Ask the Oracle (3 page)

red with the fire within. “Demons do not try to corrupt or harm the everyday human in

hopes of claiming their souls. We tempt those with evil souls in an effort to push them over

the edge, into damnation. Those souls have no place in the mortal world with regular people.

Torment of the innocent would be pointless to us. It would be a tremendous amount of work,

with very little benefit. Only damned souls can sustain us.”

“Oh, I know plenty about a Demon’s purpose,” Gray responded, rage welling within

him, fighting to be set free. “I’ve seen the aftermath with my own eyes. Tell me, Andreo

Demos, what kind of evil act an eight-year-old boy could be guilty of that would put him in

the sights of a Demon’s version of
justice
? What could he have possibly done to deserve being

beaten within an inch of his life before finally—mercifully—having his throat cut and his

small, broken body discarded like yesterday’s trash? Please—tell me again about your

purpose
!”

His chest heaved and his stomach rolled as Gray fought back the waves of nausea that

battered him. The memory, nearly ten years past, was once again fighting its way to the

surface.

A gentle breeze had been blowing, cutting through the oppressive humidity that had

been plaguing the city for weeks. Gray remembered the rusty scent of blood in the air and

the sound of water dripping on the ground—only it hadn’t actually been water. Gray wished

it had been something that mundane.

He had cut between two buildings, hurrying to make it home before the orphanage

locked its doors for the night. Little had he known that the alley he found himself in

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wouldn’t lead him home, but into a nightmare in the form of Henry Allen Fuller’s bled out

and brutalized body.

The one thing that had terrified his fifteen-year-old self more than the poor boy’s

exsanguinated corpse, had been the monster responsible for it, still hunched over the boy’s

prone form. Whether he had just completed the act when Gray had happened upon them, or

if he had stayed to admire his work, Gray had never found out. What he did know was that

no matter how long he lived, he would never be able to erase the face of the murderer, or the

hellfire that had been burning in his eyes, from his mind.

It had been in that moment, faced with the aftermath of such Demonic depravity, that

Gray had decided that Demons were evil beings that were beyond redemption. It was for

that reason that no Demon would enjoy the advantages that came from the use of Gray’s

services. In his opinion, they had lost the right by allowing such a creature to roam the

streets, undeterred. There had been no punishment handed out—no justice served for Henry

Allen Fuller. Little by little, the world had moved on and forgotten what had been done to

the poor boy. Gray, however, had never forgotten and he would never forgive. Every day he

went out into the world, striving for justice in the name of a boy he had never even known.

With arms crossed over his chest, Dreo watched him in silence. The directness of his

stare was unnerving and Gray fought the urge to squirm under the weight of it. He couldn’t

understand the effect the other man had on him. Andreo Demos’ presence filled him with an

odd combination of apprehension and arousal. Neither was an emotion Gray felt comfortable

with in regards to the Demon.

When Dreo prowled towards him, it was all Gray could do to keep himself from

backing away in answer. With the Demon’s body in such close proximity, Gray’s heart sped

up and his body heated in response. Boxed in as he was between his desk and the

approaching Demon, he knew there would be no escape for him.

“Grayson.”

Dreo’s voice was rough, like he had spent the night shouting out his pleasure. Gray

licked his lips, his mouth gone dry at the picture that was now burned into his mind. He was

shocked at how easily he was able to bring forth an image of himself, on his hands and knees,

on display for the powerful Demon. Dreo’s hard body mounting Gray from behind. His

strong fingers digging into Gray’s hips as he ploughed forcefully into Gray’s hungry hole,

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while Gray loved every second of it. Gray became so lost in the image, time no longer had

meaning. It could have been seconds, or hours, later when Dreo’s deep voice brought him

back to reality.

“While I am truly sorry for the horror that you witnessed, to paint all Demons with that

same brush is grossly unfair. Should I judge all humans by the actions of Hitler or Manson?”

Gray almost choked on his retort. While he hated fighting, what he disliked even more

was when the person he was arguing with actually had a valid point. It sort of took the wind

right out of his sails. He folded his arms over his chest and pinned the man with his most

fearsome glare, the one that usually sent annoying detectives and nagging reporters running

in the opposite direction.

Unfortunately, Andreo Demos appeared to be immune to Gray’s anger. Possibly a side

effect from all that time spent in hell? A wistful smile teased the corner of the man’s mouth as

he took one last step into Gray’s personal space. The movement connected their bodies from

chest to thigh and sent an electrical sensation jolting through Gray. He felt like he had stuck

his finger in a light socket. His skin practically crackled everywhere they made contact. As he

stared at the Demon’s sinful mouth, the urge to press his lips against Dreo’s, to close that

final distance, was almost more than Gray could fight.

As his resolve crumbled, Gray leaned in, prepared to throw caution to the wind. A loud

bang and a muffled curse sounded out from the lobby and dragged him forcefully back to

reality. At the realisation of what he had almost done, he jerked back, desperate to put

distance between them so he could clear his head. A knowing smile curled Dreo’s lips, but

he, thankfully, said nothing. Slowly backing away, he allowed Gray the space he was so

desperate for.

Taking a calming breath, Gray dared a glance up at his dark seductor. The man’s eyes

were smouldering, flames made of hellfire flickering in their dark depths. Gray was

surprised to find that, in the case of Andreo Demos, the hint of hellfire that he normally

found so repulsive only served to make him hotter for the man. The evidence of the Demon

within and all his barely leashed power was intoxicating.

“Point taken,” Gray murmured, trying to focus his attention back to their conversation.

“So, what’s the other part of the job?”

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Dreo met his gaze, his raised brow a clear challenge that set Gray’s heart pounding in

his chest, but he did his best to ignore it. “The second is just a small matter of succession. For

Demons, there is no clear line to the throne. Under normal circumstances, there would have

been a challenge announced and a fight to determine who was the strongest and best

equipped to rule. In this case, however, no legitimate challenge was declared. From all

appearances, someone drugged our king and slit his throat while he slept. Therefore,

whoever is responsible will be facing murder charges and will have no claim to the throne.”

Gray frowned. “Didn’t your king have a family or children that are old enough to take

over in his place?”

Dreo shook his head, his expression sombre. “It is rare for Demons to breed through

natural means. We are able to create biological children if we find our destined mates. Until

that time, we are completely sterile. That being said, some make the decision to sire new

Demons, feeling that it is an acceptable alternative.”

“You mean—turn a human into a Demon?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“I had no idea you could turn someone into a Demon. I thought that was just a vampire

thing. Is it difficult?”

“It involves a ritual, Demon magic and, of course, a blood exchange. Only the oldest of

us dare to attempt it. The ritual takes a great deal of power. If the Demon attempting it is not

strong enough, it can burn out both the Demon and the fledgling he is trying to turn. It is

dangerous at the best of times. In the wrong hands, it can be deadly. Honestly, I can’t even

remember the last time someone tried it.”

Comprehension flared within Gray. “Wow! You guys are like the endangered species of

the paranormal community. I guess it’s a good thing Demons live forever, huh? Now, as to

the matter of succession,” Gray continued, “how do you think I’m going to be able to help

with that?”

A smirk appeared at the corner of Dreo’s sensual mouth. “With your powers, you are

able to look into the future, at all possible outcomes, correct?”

“Yes,” Gray admitted hesitantly, unsure where the Demon was heading with his line of

questioning.

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“Then this task should be easy for you,” Dreo responded with a nod. “We need you to

See
and determine what Demon would be best to elevate to Lord of the Underworld.”

Silence filled the room while he stared at Dreo. Gray’s eyes flared wide, before he broke

out laughing. “Oh sure,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath, “easy. You’re kidding, right?”

Dreo’s brow furrowed. “I don’t see what is so funny. Why would I be kidding?”

Confusion was clear in his tone, as well as his tight-lipped expression.

Gray managed to regain control of himself and his laughter died down to an occasional

hiccup. “Let me make sure I’m understanding you correctly. You want me to not only find

out who is responsible for murdering the previous Lord of the Underworld, but also

determine who should be next in line to over the position?”

“Yes, you understand quite well. I do not see the problem.”

“Of course you don’t,” Gray huffed, no longer amused. “Well, thanks for the offer, but

my answer is
no
.” Turning away, he focused his attention back to the disaster that was his

desk. That being the case, he totally missed Dreo’s quick shift across the room until the

Demon had him pinned to the wall with a hand around his throat. While it wasn’t cutting of

his air supply—yet—it did render him immobile. Surprised, Gray looked up into eyes gone

black, burning with barely controlled hellfire.

“This is not a joke, Mr Muir. This is an extremely serious situation that is going to

escalate rapidly if it is not resolved soon.”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” Gray shot back, too angry to act rationally.

Grasping the other man’s hand at his throat, he tried to peel away the offending fingers but

found he would’ve had more luck trying to move solid stone. Andreo Demos wouldn’t be

going anywhere until he decided he was ready to go. Gray’s feeble attempts for freedom did

nothing to improve his situation, while earning him a dark scowl from the other man.

Dreo’s answering growl resonated through Gray’s body and settled in his groin,

bringing his cock quickly to life. Gray desperately tried to bite back the groan that was

building in his chest, but wasn’t sure he was successful. The look on Dreo’s face said that he

wasn’t doing a very good job hiding his attraction to the gorgeous Lust Demon.

Expecting his handsome captor to lash out at him again, Gray was surprised when Dreo

gently cupped his jaw with his free hand. “There are many factions in the Underworld who

would do almost anything to take over leadership,” he responded, with a calm that belayed

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20

his previous actions. “If we cannot announce a successor soon, these factions will rise up and

blood will flow in the streets. Many innocents, both human and para, will die in their bid for

power. That is not something any of us wish to see happen.”

“If the Demon Counsel sent you, you must be a pretty powerful guy. Why don’t you

step up and take the throne? Problem solved.”

The laugh that resonated from Dreo was a deep, rich sound that did funny things to

Gray’s insides. “No, Grayson Muir. The throne is not meant for me. I can do more for my

people as a free man than if I was tied to that chair. No. There are others much better suited

for the responsibility that comes with being the leader of the Underworld.”

Dreo continued to observe him, waiting for him to make a decision. Gray remained

frozen under the power of the other man’s stare, watching as the banked flames in his dark

orbs swelled, once again evolving into a raging inferno of sweltering hellfire.

Leaning forward, Dreo placed a chaste kiss on the corner of Gray mouth. The action

was completely at odds with the heat Gray saw building in the other man’s eyes. With shock

rendering him paralysed, the lip lock was over before Gray even had a chance to react. When