A Job From Hell (Ancient Legends #1)

reality, until their
victims turned into mere carcasses of their previous selves. And the most
spectacular results were displayed on Layla’s ceilings. Most of those who knew what happened to a succubus’s lover thought
they could escape that fate. Just one last touch and it’d be the last. It usually
wasn’t until realization came too late.
    Clutching the whip until my knuckles
cracked, I bit my lip and forced myself to endure their touch. Under other
circumstances they’d feel the sting of my whip, but not today, not until I
swayed Layla in my favor. Tongues licked my skin as a
succubus whispered in my ear promises of pleasure. Listening to the sighs and
groans of the low demons made me feel soiled and unworthy of Amber, but I controlled
the rising anger inside me. When would Layla tire of
this humiliating show? It could take minutes, hours, even days. I could only
hope she was in dire need of conversation, because I didn’t have days to spare.
    “You may rise and approach,” Layla said eventually.
    With the slightest groan of irritation, I
jumped to my feet and walked over to her golden throne. She had her back turned
on me, long black hair thrown over one shoulder to reveal her glorious tattoo
of living snakes. The snakes under her alabaster skin slithered, tongues
pointing out, mouths opening and closing. Layla ran a
manicured hand over her lean thigh and pulled her sheer flowing dress up a few
inches until it rode just below the hips, revealing flesh I didn’t want to see.
And then she turned.
    Green, cat-like eyes met me, cunning
wafting from her. A thin black sheet of fabric barely covered her breasts, but I
wasn’t tempted. I knew too well what she was: a succubus deity of the higher
kind with a strong need for blood and torture.
    I bowed, more to hide my annoyance than to
pay my respect, and lowered myself to her naked feet and painted toenails. The
snakes slithered down her leg toward me. I inched away, watching her face
carefully, taking in any sudden changes in mood.
    “What? No gifts today, dearest?” Her voice
betrayed a sharp edge. The snakes hissed.
    Damn. In all the chaos from the last days, I’d
forgotten how much she liked a gift. I peered at an approaching cobra, ready to
kick the thing if it came closer. “Sorry about that. I’m here to see you with an
urgent matter.”
    A frown formed between her thin brows as she
caressed the snake’s head. “This better be an emergency. I’ve killed others for
much less.”
    I hesitated, considering my words. I
figured she might be easier to sway in my favor if she thought her rules were
broken. “It concerns you.”
    Layla bore her green gaze into me, irritated. “I’ve had my share of bad news
for the day, but proceed.”
    Still clutching the whip, I stood to pour
wine from the carafe at her feet into a dainty goblet and handed her the glass,
a gesture that always pleased her. As usual, she smiled at me. I kneeled to her
feet again, aware that I had to start my pledge soon before she lost interest. “I
failed to win the prize in your race,” I said.
    She shrugged. “You know I cannot grant you
Sight unless you’ve earned it. Wait another five hundred years and then try
again. Maybe your brother can teach you how to loosen up a bit in the meantime.”
    I gritted my teeth at her insinuation. “My
brother’s reckless. And you know I can’t wait five hundred years.”
    “Centuries of feeding on animal blood has
made you cranky. Kill a few virgins and treat yourself to a real drink. Trust
me, time will fly by.” Her smug grin irritated me. I needed to get a grip
before I lost it.
    “I’m not complaining about your rules.” I
forced myself to grab her hand, my fingers closing around hers, before I
released them quickly as temptation washed over me. Amber was the one. There’d
never be anyone else. A snake slithered up my arm, onto my shoulder. I clenched
my teeth, focusing my thoughts back to my plan as I said, “I’m worried about
what’ll happen when the others find out you let a mortal win the race.”
    She flicked her hair back, impatiently. “I
don’t care what anyone thinks. This is my race and I’ll run it the way I see fit, just like my mother before me. You see,
I’m not in the least biased, dearest. So long the rules are followed, the prize
is well earned.”
    I knew breaking that wall of century-old
indifference might prove a hard if not impossible task, but I wasn’t ready to
give up just yet. “But don’t