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  He gave Poison a sultry smile and raised his glass to her. Blood thumped through Poison, making her already hot skin hotter.

  Stay focused.

  Lisa moved away from Iron Man and headed for two dark barn doors next to the bar. She slid them apart then quietly slipped inside. Every instinct told Poison this was it. Lisa had to be going for the evil board.

  Poison glanced at the clock. Less than two hours. Great.

  She glanced back at the bar.

  “Hey, Sarge, come sit by me.” Iron Man pointed to where her pirate had been sitting. “I’ll buy you a beer.”

  Poison scanned the room, but there was no sign of her swashbuckling pirate. How had he moved so fast?

  Disappointment crowded in on her logic and squeezed her lungs. Loneliness swept over her as if part of her was missing. Strange. Why would she feel that? She hadn’t even talked to the pirate.

  Get your head back in the game.

  She shook her head and made her way toward the barn closet doors. Humans jostled into her. A pudgy male furry werewolf stopped in front of her. His costume had bald spots and the brown fur was matted together. It looked like he was molting. The black paint on his pointed nose was smeared.

  He swayed on his feet. “Hey, Sarge?” He slurred his words and then belched.

  Beer breath hit her face. She gagged, wrinkled her nose, and waved the stench away. “Gross. Excuse me.”

  Blazes, he was way worse than Iron Man.

  “What’s your hurry Goldilocks? Don’t you know you shouldn’t piss off the big bad wolf?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re in my way.” She couldn’t hide the anger in her bored voice.

  “Dance with me.” He jiggled his body, doing the white man shuffle, and splashed beer onto the floor and his meaty hand.

  “No, thanks. If you’ll excuse me.” She headed toward the closed doors.

  “I don’t think so.” He grabbed her wrist with his burly hand.

  She lifted an eyebrow. If the idiot knew who she was, he’d shed the rest of his fur.

  “I see you’re a real hit with the ladies, aren’t you?”

  “They beg for me.”

  She pushed on his hand. “You mean they beg for you to let them go.”

  He pulled her to his broad chest, knocking the smirk off her face. “Give me a kiss, Sarge.”

  She turned her head as he bent down to kiss her. Zeus, she wanted to use her powers and knock this balding fat werewolf to oblivion, but Michael forbade them revealing their powers.

  She’d have to rely on human feminine maneuverability of ducking-fat-stupid-drunk guy.

  “Let her go.” A deadly voice sent shivers swooshing down her spine.

  She glanced over her shoulder. The pirate was back. His broad rim hat cast a shadow over his mask. He towered over the wolf, who was too stupid to obey. Instead, he elbowed the pirate. “Hey, she wants to be with me.”

  The pirate seized the wolf’s arm and twisted it behind his back, forcing the wolf to stand on his tippy-toes. He immediately released Poison.

  “Hey, let go, man.” The wolf dropped his bottle of beer and it shattered on the hardwood floor. Bits of glass and beer flew into the air.

  “Ow!” A belly dancer grabbed her lower back. She turned around, anger shooting out of her eyes.

  “Hey guys.” A vampire clasped the pirate on his shoulder. “Come on buddy, let him go.”

  “Fine.” The pirate sent wolfie flying. “Stay away from her.”

  Poison’s heart thumped nonononono from her chest to her quaking legs. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t him. Not now. Not here. That voice she didn’t want to remember, but couldn’t forget.

  Her lungs forgot to move. She stared into the eyes that haunted her in her dreams.

  Her forbidden fruit was back.

  Chapter 2

  Ringmaster stared into Poison’s huge beautiful silver eyes. He’d never forgotten her––her short blond curls, her firm body, and those luscious red lips––and had dreamed of her sweet face every night since they met on the Poseidon. Her kiss had changed him. But he’d stayed away. It was better that way. Safer that way.

  “Geez, buddy. I was just having fun.” The stupid drunk human squirmed beneath Ringmaster’s hand.

  He immediately released the fat werewolf who fell to his knees, rubbing his arm. He glanced up at Ringmaster with glassy eyes. “Didn’t know you wore your label on her.”

  “Got that right, asshole.” Ringmaster shoved him aside and pushed his way through the crowd to get to Poison.

  She stared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “You? What are you doing here?” Her icy tone would have frozen hell.

  He winced. Not the response he wanted. But what did he expect? She was an angel and he was a demon.

  “You remembered me? And here I thought you forget all about me.” He stepped closer. He inhaled her heavenly smell of gardenias. Just like that night, her scent set his blood on fire. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

  “Well, I haven’t given you a second thought.” But there was a tremor in her voice. She was lying. Interesting.

  “You’re trembling.”

  “No, I’m not. I asked you what you were doing here?” She lifted her chin, and his defiant soldier angel was ready to battle.

  “I’m on a mission.” He cast his gaze over her body, melting his cold heart. He smiled. “And you?”

  She narrowed her eyes then grabbed his arm, hauling him to a corner away from curious glances. “Did Balthazar send you?” Warmth spread through his arm at her touch, but his gut tightened at the venom in her voice.

  Balthazar left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth.

  “Of course. He’s my boss. Just like Michael’s yours.”

  She released him. “Let me guess. You’re here for the board and Lisa Givens.”

  His arm turned chill where warmth had been. He shrugged. “Maybe. Is that why you’re here?”

  She shoved him. “I was here first. You need to leave. Because of you, I’m in deep shit with Michael.”

  “Really? I’m shocked.” He put his hand on his chest. “Who would have thought he’d be so upset over an angel kissing a demon?”

  A lovely red blush brushed over her cheeks and neck. How far down did it go?

  She straightened her shirt and pushed back her blonde curls. “That was a mistake. A moment of weakness. It won’t…It won’t happen again.”

  Ringmaster’s mouth ran dry, his throat closed up, and disappointment choked off any hope of him tasting her lips again.

  “You need to leave. Now.” She lowered her voice. “Before Michael finds out.”

  He shook his head and found his voice. “No way beautiful. I won’t go back to Balthazar empty-handed.”

  Not unless he wanted Balthazar to use his guts for garters.

  She gritted her teeth. “Yes, I remember his charms.”

  He avoided her gaze. Heat flared over his ears and down his neck as he remembered that day on the Poseidon when Balthazar had cursed her. He wanted to smash his fist into Balthazar’s smug face for making Poison heave up her guts. “That wasn’t my fault. I told him to stop. He gets off on humiliating people, angels, even demons. I ought to know. He’s done it to me more than once.” He was spurting out excuses, but couldn’t stop.

  She clasped his arm. “I remember.” Her voice softened. “I never told you thank you.”

  He jerked his head up. “No, you didn’t.” He couldn’t pull his gaze away from her parted mouth. He wanted to kiss her. No, let’s face it. He wanted more than a kiss.

  The werewolf flipped off Ringmaster, and he narrowed his eyes, ready to rip the bastard’s soul right out of his flabby chest.

  Poison blocked his path. “No. Don’t. He’s not worth it.”

  “Still playing by Michael’s rules?” His fingers twitched, his body ached. Finally, he gave in and ran his fingers through her short blond curls. If it was up to him, he would have skinned the
wolf alive.

  “Don’t.” She jumped back and wet her lips.

  He dropped his hand. “Why do you care about the stupid werewolf? The man’s already signed up for heart attack central.” Frustration and anger rippled through his voice. And dare he say it––hurt.

  She tilted her head toward the grumbling wolf. “Because his name’s not in the Book.”

  “Ah, yes. Mr. Tight-Ass forbids anyone dying––unless it’s written in his little black book.”

  “I’m a Dark Angel. And yes, I follow Michael’s rules. Unlike you.”

  “True. In hell, there are no rules. It’s every demon for himself.”

  She rolled her eyes, but didn’t make a comeback.

  He walked around her, admiring the strength in her body and imagining the firm legs locked around his hips. “Balthazar wants this job done. He doesn’t care how. Failure isn’t an option. Not unless I want a ten foot red hot poker shoved up my ass.” He caressed her arm. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  She didn’t flinch this time. Maybe he was making progress. She glanced at the bar. “How about we discuss this over drinks? Someone was supposed to get me a beer and never did.” She edged closer. “Care to get me one?”

  His eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” She put her finger on his lips. “Please.”

  “Stay right here?”

  “Of course.”

  Like an eager new beau, he hurried over to the bar to fetch her a beer. He turned his head to find out what kind she wanted––he’d only turned his back for a second––but his sweet little dark angel had vanished.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  He ran his hand through his dreadlocks, nearly knocking his wig off. Cursing underneath his breath, he quickly secured the damn wig. Did he really think she’d settle this over a drink? Time to make a bargain and this time, it wouldn’t be over drinks.

  Balthazar wanted the Spell Board and Lisa’s soul by midnight. Easy enough to do, but instead, he played knight-in-shining-armor to an angel of death who didn’t want his chivalry.

  He smiled. He had other tricks up his sleeve. After all, he was Ringmaster.

  He inhaled and smelled gardenias. He followed the scent to the closed dark mahogany doors and half smiled. His sweet little angel was on the other side. Good. Show down.

  He glanced over his shoulder. People sitting at the bar and dancing were still staring at him uneasily and whispering. Their fear was intoxicating.

  He bowed slightly then snapped his fingers and vanished behind the doors. His shoulders slumped and he hung his head. He thought for sure his angel would be there waiting for him, ready to do battle, but she wasn’t there.

  Human minds were so easy to wipe out. They’d never remember the fight or him. The music blared, laughter grew loud, and drunken slurs made him smile. Nothing like people indulging in debauchery.

  Now back to his angel. They had a deal to make. One that she couldn’t refuse.

  He turned around. Lisa’s oak desk was next to the French glass doors that led out to the patio. A gold desk lamp cast a soft glow onto the laptop computer on the desk, but Lisa’s high back black leather chair was empty along with the matching classical traditional loveseat and two flared arm chairs. Books filled the tall oak book cases. Flames flickered in the gas log fireplace. Shadows filled the room. Where was his angel?

  One of the French doors creaked opened by itself to a small cement patio with two wicker chairs and a glass table. Lisa sat on one of them. Her fat butt cheeks hung over the side. She stared at his Spell Board––his own special creation. He grinned. One of his more ingenious ideas.

  All Lisa had to do was write something on the paper or rub her hand on the board and ask for her desire. The request shot through to him. No matter where he was, he heard. His creation was ten times more powerful than an Ouija board.

  A piece of paper was on top of the board. Lisa pulled out a pen and started writing. Like always, the words called to him. She wanted him to make the pirate fall in love with her. Him. Foolish woman. This would be way too easy. One kiss and she was dead.

  He had granted all of her wishes. Or at least, she thought he had. He wasn’t called the Ringmaster for nothing. Compelling humans to do tricks were his specialty. Lisa was no exception, but this would be her last one. Time to pay the Ringmaster.

  “Lisa,” he whispered.

  She jerked her head up and put her pen down. “Is someone there?”

  Tingles swept over him as he put all of his power into his voice. “Lisa. Come to me.” His husky tone was alluring, enchanting, mesmerizing.

  Lisa stood and turned around in her chair. Her eyes had turned dull and her mouth slack. She rose out of the chair, then marched toward him like a stiff robot.

  He slipped back into the parlor. “Time to die.” He held out his hand to her as she raised hers.

  Suddenly, Poison materialized beside Lisa. His heart quickened, pumping blood down between his legs. The moonlight highlighted her blond hair. He swore she had a halo over her head, but the outline of her large breasts and slim waist made him forget the spell.

  Poison held out her arm, blocking Lisa from moving. “What are you doing?”

  He met those beautiful silver eyes that promised death. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m collecting my prize.”

  She pulled a vial from her pocket, filled with glittering blue liquid.

  He glared. “Sleep. Really? How cliché.” He waved his hand and Lisa sat on the loveseat. She stared straight ahead, drool dripping down her mouth. “Sorry, gorgeous, she’s mine.”

  “Uh-uh, right.” Poison shook the vial, turning blue sparkles black and then walked toward Lisa.

  Ringmaster darted forward and grabbed her wrist. “No.”

  She pulled on her wrist “Who do you think you are?”

  “Me? That’s a strange question.” He half smiled. “Tonight, I’m a pirate.”

  Poison smiled sweetly. “I could come up with another name.”

  “Oh, I’m so hurt.”

  She glared. “Back off, Demon.”

  He pointed his thumb at his chest. “Lisa belongs to me, sweetheart.”

  She yanked her wrist free. “Don’t call me that. And you’re wrong. Not according to Michael.”

  She edged around him as if she thought she could outsmart him, but he easily blocked her path. “You’ve lost this one, Angel.”

  She cocked her eyebrow and vanished. He whirled around in circles. Lisa still sat alone on the couch. The air crackled. The French doors closed by themselves. Chills whisked down his back, and tremors shook his confidence.

  A bright light formed in the middle of the room, forcing him to shield his eyes. Poison re-appeared but this time, she clutched the Spell Board. His lungs froze up. He lowered his hand. His mouth fell wide open, but his shock slowly turned into a surly grin. He exhaled. A wild ache formed in his belly. Desire flowed through his veins like a sizzling spark on a fuse.

  “I’ll say this––you’ve got tenacity.” God, this angel broke his every resolve.

  “Admit it. You lost.”

  He glared. “I’m not a good loser. Give that to me.” He reached for the board, but she jerked it out of his grasp.

  Tightness spread across his chest, stretching his nerves. His thumbs twitched, and he chewed on his cheek. What if she discovered the connection between him and the board? He’d put part of his power into that board, a part of himself. It would be disastrous. Being summoned by a dark angel––even a Venus di Milo––would totally suck. Balthazar would throw a pitchfork right through his black heart.

  She rubbed her hand over the face of the Spell Board and the board awakened with a loud whoosh.

  She frowned. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” He trembled. Her light caress on the piece of wood felt as if she were running her fingers down his naked chest. He broke out in a hot sweat. His cock grew hard and full, aching for her. He shifted on his feet. God, he
wanted her. If she just asked, he’d bring her to a rapture that would rock both heaven and hell.

  But she held all the power. Crap, he was so screwed.

  Chapter 3

  Poison stared at Ringmaster. He was dashing in that pirate outfit, and his hooded eyes made her squirm. She should run away. His scent was intoxicating––burning wood crackling in a fireplace. She wanted to fall into his arms and breathe deeply for hours. What was happening? Why this lust? She had to know why she was attracted to him. Had Balthazar done something to her besides making her sick? Zeus, what would Michael say?

  “Why are you here, Demon?” She wrapped her arms around the board, hugging it to her chest. “And wearing that ridiculous outfit?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? It’s a Halloween party. Don’t you know? Halloween is a demon’s favorite holiday.” He raised his eyebrow. “The bigger question is why are you still here?”

  She straightened. “I told you. I came for the board and Lisa.”

  “Oh, you think so.” He held up his hand. “I snap my fingers, and the bitch dies.”

  Poison’s heart stuck in her throat, but she remained perfectly still like Michael had taught her. His words rolled over in her mind.

  Show no fear to demons or you’ll be at their mercy.

  She ran one shaking hand over the board again, and it vibrated as if it were alive. The hair on the back of her neck, her arms, and on the top of her head, stood straight up. She held it in front of her with both hands. Strange red cursive symbols were written in the middle of the board. In each corner, there were what looked like wooden masks––a dragon, a lion, a wolf, and a serpent. “What is this thing?”

  Skrrkrreeeeeeoooooo

  Thumpty-thump-thump-thump––her heart jumped to a hundred on the fear factor scale and chills streaked down her back. She whirled around. “Zeus, what…what…what was that?” She’d broken Michael’s rule––she hadn’t kept the terror out of her voice.

  Lisa sat on the loveseat, her face frozen, and her body rigid. It wasn’t her.

  Ringmaster sucked in his breath and his face turned ashen. Was it her imagination or had Ringmaster lost his cockiness and was scared?