The Devil You Need Read online

  The Devil You Need

  Sam Cheever

  Book 6 in the Dancin’ With the Devil series.

  Astra Q. Phelps was stripped of her magic and the experience has understandably changed her life. While she’s no longer a slave to the constant sexual demands of her Settling, she’s now powerless and emotionally bereft.

  The über-sexy Dialle, king of the Royal Devils, is also in trouble. He’s lost his anchor to the light and dark forces are threatening to pull him under.

  Through it all, deadly forces battle to keep the two lovers apart, plaguing them with doubts of their future. Is Dialle really the devil she needs? Is Astra the devilish miss he wants? They’ll have to decide if their love is worth the risks…or if they’d be better off letting it slip away.

  A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  The Devil You Need

  Sam Cheever

  The Devil You Know

  The Devil you know may break your heart, be cold and without soul.

  But acquaintance makes the Devil you know, more friend than deadly foe.

  The Devil you know might stain your soul, its motives ne’er do well.

  But comfort lies with the Devil you know, tho’ it damn your soul to Hell.

  The Devil You Want

  The Devil you want is sometimes slow, to recognize your heart.

  But the Devil you want is sure to know, that he can tear your world apart.

  The Devil you want can warm your bed, and promise he will stay.

  But the Devil you want may turn your head, then push your love away.

  The Devil You Need

  The Devil you need fulfills your dreams, his love a promise bright.

  But the Devil you need may lose his way when darkness clings too tight.

  The Devil you need must first survive, as blackness fills his soul.

  For the Devil you need can’t cling to life, when death asserts control.

  Prologue

  The Devil you need fulfills your dreams, his love a promise bright.

  But the Devil you need may lose his way when darkness clings too tight.

  My name is Astra Q. Phelps. Don’t ask me what the Q stands for because that little piece of info will go with me to the crematorium. I’ve had all printed documentation of the name destroyed and, though a lot of my enemies have tried to suss it out, no one will ever know what it stands for. A girl has to have some secrets. Especially when the truth would cause her some serious embarrassment.

  I run a business called the Angel Network, which is the only devil-and-demon-locating-and-destroying business in the universe. In other words, I kick serious evil butt for a living. I’m a Tweener. What exactly is a Tweener you ask? A Tweener is a nonhuman. We have neither wings nor horns, but generally have both angel and devil in our family forests. Which is probably why we enjoy a higher sensitivity to spectral influence than regular human people.

  Recently, my life has been especially challenging, with my Settling and all. But it’s about to get much worse.

  What? Oh you don’t know about a Tweener’s Settling? Well, in a nutshell, it’s a process we go through to determine whether we’ll favor the dark side of our natures or the light. My Settling has been rocky because I hang out a lot with dark-world types. It has been a concern for me. But it’s not anymore.

  I was recently magic-raped by a nasty bitch who had designs on my boyfriend and his power. I’ve lost all of my magic. All of it. I’m an empty vessel whose cells throb and pulse with the need to fill with energy. And, despite all my attempts to repack my battery…so to speak…nothing has worked.

  I currently find myself at loose ends in a world where I used to be one of the most powerful creatures I knew. I’m now arguably the weakest. If I didn’t have powerful friends I’d probably already be dead.

  I’m not sure why they haven’t given up on me by now. Despite a truly phenomenal family tree, it now appears that I’m the weeping willow in the woods.

  To add to my stress, my longtime friend and partner Emo has completed his celestial anger management, brought on by his own Settling, and I’m waiting to hear if he came out on the light side of his nature or his dark. One would mean we could remain friends and business partners…the other would probably mean an end to our lifetime friendship, which would be a massive blow that, along with everything else, would probably do me in completely.

  So that’s where I am. Weak, helpless, and unsure of my future. If you know me at all you know I don’t do any of those things well. I’m a small woman with a big attitude and my very survival depends on being able to back that ‘tude up with something bigger than my mouth.

  In other words, I’m in deep shit.

  This should be really interesting, right? Yeah. You have no idea.

  So let’s get started…

  Chapter One

  One Hell of an Offer

  When friends reach out and offer aid, beware the promised boon,

  The solution might seem ready-made, but leave you howling at the moon.

  “Don’t be such a baby, Astra.”

  “Shut up, Darma!”

  “You’re not even trying.”

  I couldn’t even respond to that absurdity. Trying was all I’d done in the weeks since I’d had my magic forcibly and painfully stripped away. What I hadn’t done was succeed.

  In even the smallest way.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, holding it to keep from spewing the worst kind of hate in the form of a response toward my evil spawn of a sister. I clenched my fists at my sides and turned my mind to the mantra I’d been using to avoid wrapping my fingers around her scrawny throat and squeezing.

  She’s trying to help…she’s trying to help…she’s trying to help…

  It didn’t work. I still wanted to thrash her to within an inch of her death. I might not have magic anymore, but I still had a certain amount of strength and a lot of rage to give it legs.

  I was standing in the middle of my office, dressed in the special armor that had become necessary since I’d lost the ability to protect myself from an army of enemies, and my head throbbed with the effort to draw magic into my core and hold it.

  My skin was slick with sweat, my hair stuck to my neck in lank, wet strands, and my breath heaved in my chest. We’d been working for over an hour and I’d yet to grab more than an ion of energy and hadn’t been able to hold it at all.

  The air shifted and my eyes shot open. A cold tube of water appeared in front of me. I sighed, letting go of as much of the frustration and anger as I could, and took the water. “Thanks.”

  Darma dropped into my visitor’s chair. “I think you’re getting stronger.”

  I nearly choked. If Darma was trying to make me feel better I was screwed. Completely and totally screwed. “It’s no use.”

  Her ten-second reserve of kindness spent, Darma’s pretty face darkened. “Don’t be stupid, Astra. Nobody ever said this would be easy. You’re being tested. Are you just going to sit back and fail because it’s hard?”

  I grabbed the drying spray from my desk and spritzed my face, neck, and arms with it. “Yeah. I think maybe I am.”

  She hit me with the mother of all dirty bombs. “You’ll lose Dialle.”

  Frunk me to the lowest circle of Hell. “You bitch.”

  Her perfect, pink lips tipped upward, knowing she’d pressed my “engage” button again. “I have to go. Slayer and I are going to take down that flashing demon at Twenty-First and Park. Keep practicing and you can fill me in on your progress later.”

  That would be flashing as in showing his secret parts to passersby. Not flashing like a neon sign. I was secretly glad I was too pitiful to take on that assignment.

  She st
arted to shimmer and then caught herself, looking suddenly uncomfortable.

  “Go ahead, Darma, space-shift. I hate it that everybody walks on dragon egg shells around me.”

  My sister glared at me. “It’s called kindness.” And with those snotty words dancing on the air between us, my older sister glided toward the door like a royal princess and exited my office the old-fashioned way.

  I knew she would leave the magical way as soon as the door closed. It was like not keeping score at a child’s solar football game. Nobody who was involved was fooled. Even if a score wasn’t recorded, somebody was still the winner and some poor schlub was still the loser.

  I dropped into my chair and laid my head back, staring at the ceiling and fighting tears. As if it weren’t bad enough to have lost my own powers, now nobody around me would use theirs where I could see for fear I’d curl into the fetal position in a corner and drool on myself.

  It was beyond humiliating.

  The door opened and I guiltily swiped tears from my cheeks before turning to find one of my office mates standing there looking unsure about entering. Ralph Peters was one of the owners of Werever…Whatever, which specialized in shape-shifter justice. Like his partner Bob, Ralph was a werewolf. He had longish, curly black hair and the most amazing hazel eyes with long, thick lashes that most women would kill for. I rented my office space from them and considered them friends.

  “Hey, Ralph.”

  Since the loss of my magic, Ralph’s smile had dimmed to more of a soft grimace filled with pity. It was so painful to see that I’d learned to hate it when he smiled. “Hey, Astra.” He moved into my office and sat in my visitor’s chair, his sexy hazel eyes locked onto my face. “I want to make you an offer.”

  Whatever it was it appeared serious. “I’m listening.”

  The eyes staring into mine turned gold, lost some of their humanity. Under times of great emotion the weres tended to drift more toward their animal natures. Apparently finding that a more soothing state. “I know you’ve been trying to regain your magic…”

  I suddenly couldn’t hold his gaze any longer. I looked away. “Yeah. It’s been pretty ugly.”

  “I understand. Bob and I have…felt…your frustration.”

  Yeah, I’d just bet they had. “Sorry.”

  He shook his head, scowling slightly. “Not your fault. We have total empathy for you. I can’t even imagine what I’d go through in your situation.” His frown deepened. “Anyway. We’ve been talking and we think we might have a solution for you.”

  I tried really hard not to get excited. But given the frustrating morning I’d had, it was nearly impossible. I felt my eyes go wide. “Really? What did you come up with?”

  He nodded, took a deep breath, and seemed to be trying to talk himself into moving forward. That was my first clue that I wasn’t going to like his proposal.

  My next clue came in the form of his kick-off.

  “Magic is magic, right?”

  My gaze held his. “I guess.” My lack of conviction throbbed on the air between us.

  His stare intensified. “I can turn you.”

  I blinked, pretty sure he’d stopped in the middle of his sentence. I can turn you into a lean, mean, fighting machine. Or… I can turn you on if you want a distraction. I shook my head, lifting my hands in question.

  He frowned. “Into a werewolf.”

  My heart sped up as panic slipped through me. My fingers clutched the edge of my desk. My vision swirled. I realized I wasn’t panicking because I was afraid I’d refuse Ralph. I was panicking because I was terrified I wouldn’t. “I, um…”

  “I know this is a surprise. I don’t blame you for being shocked. It isn’t generally known that we can do this. In fact, usually we can’t. The magic I would give to you requires a certain type of vessel. A vessel that has the ability to contain strong magic.”

  I frowned. “And you think because I used to hold magic I would be able to retain it once you passed it to me?”

  “Yes.”

  I nodded. “Not that I’m thinking about doing this, mind you.” I lifted an eyebrow and he nodded. “But how exactly would you do it?”

  “It’s a fairly extensive process involving purification of your body and meditation. The physical training would be easy for you. You’re already trained in the fighting arts. But weres…think…differently. We see things differently. And you’d need to be acclimated to that before—”

  “Cut to the chase. How would the actual change happen?”

  His gaze slipped away and I knew his response wasn’t going to take me to my happy place. “Just spit it out, Ralph.”

  He sighed, tugged at a hole in his jeans, and scratched his chin.

  “Ralph.”

  “The magic is passed on through the carnal act.”

  I blinked. Frowned. Swallowed. “By carnal you mean what exactly?”

  “Sex, Astra. The old horizontal two-step. The hubba hubba rumba. The delicious dance of decadence—”

  “Okay. I got it.” Shaking my head, I stood up. “Thanks for the offer, Ralph. I can’t go there.”

  He stood too and nodded. “I figured that’s what you’d say but I wanted to make the offer. You could do it with Bob instead if that would make you happier.”

  The absurdity of the thing suddenly washed over me, spurring a strange sort of mania. I started to laugh, feeling my face heat in an embarrassed blush. “It’s not you. I’m… I just can’t go there. I’m not sure I could do my job in that form anyway…” My voice trailed away as hysteria bubbled in my throat. “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “It’s fine, Astra. I understand. I just want to help.” He stepped close. “You’ll ask, right? If there’s some way I can help?”

  I nodded and he reached out, touching my cheek with an impossibly warm finger. He held my gaze for a long moment and then turned away, pain etched deep into his handsome face.

  I watched him leave, feeling responsible for that pain and for the pain of everyone around me. It was exactly what I didn’t need. More pressure. More guilt. More reason to succumb to bone-deep sadness.

  It worried me how comfortable I was becoming with that sadness.

  Not for the first time it occurred to me that I should just leave. Go away. And let the people I loved go on with their lives. It was nearly impossible for them to heal with me hanging around. A constant reminder of what we’d all lost when the evil bitch Crisanne had magic-raped me.

  Expelling a breath in frustration, I dropped back into my chair and considered where I could go if I left. Olympus was a possibility. The dragons would welcome me there. And I could still function as a warrior if I had dragon brawn to help me fight.

  Then I thought of Slayer and that option slipped away. He used to live on Olympus. For all I knew he still did. I knew he wouldn’t let me hide out. He’d pester me.

  I couldn’t go to another dimension without the help of someone with the power to shift. Maybe off planet somewhere. That thought had possibilities.

  The air beside my chair shimmered and a delectable scent tickled my nose. Despite my dire thoughts, the sight of a long, leanly muscled form dressed in tight, black leather pants tucked into high black boots, and a swashbucklingly sexy white shirt made me smile.

  As the air stopped shimmering a beautiful pair of clear-blue eyes, rimmed in midnight lashes scoured me with heat. A perfect pair of lips tipped up in the corners and the overhead light silvered the smooth length of thick black hair hanging just past a square, bristled jaw.

  Dialle.

  “Hello, my love.”

  With those simple words, need slammed through me. Breath stalled in my lungs. My thighs tightened and my nipples peaked. “Hey, yourself.”

  He leaned close, placing a hand on either side of me. Long, elegant fingers wrapped around the arms of my chair and lowered his lips to mine. As soon as we touched an inferno flared between us, built from the embers of an always-smoldering fire that needed only the merest encouragement
to rage unchecked. The soft kiss quickly turned to a frenzied mating of lips. My hands lifted, twined in the heavy silk of his hair, and he reached beneath my thighs to lift me out of the chair.

  The heat of his body called to mine, creating an answering lust that coiled hotly in my lower belly. My hands slipped down his throat, reveling in the bristled warmth beneath my questing fingers, and flattened over his smooth, golden chest. I pressed my palms into the hard buds of his nipples, enjoying the soft growl of encouragement my touch incurred.

  With a thought, he removed his clothing and mine, leaving only the thinnest wisp of air between our straining flesh. He settled my butt on the edge of my desk and stepped between my splayed thighs, nestling the rigid heat of his thick cock at my entrance.

  My sexual core pulsed with anticipation, my belly tightening under the building need. Dialle’s hands slid from my knees up my thighs, and branded my hips with his scalding touch. His mouth slanted over mine, our tongues tangling with desperate need.

  I groaned as he bit my lower lip, just hard enough to draw blood, and sucked the coppery essence away. “I need you, my queen. My body craves your touch.”

  His cock pressed harder against my entrance. Stark lust drove a whimper from between my lips.

  His lips and tongue forged a trail of sensation down my throat to my aching breasts. He suckled a rigid nipple into welcoming heat, and I arched into the delightful touch.

  My head dropped back and my hands found the cluttered surface of my desk, anchoring me there. My waist-length auburn curls danced along my arms and fell over the surface beneath me as Dialle’s hungry lips skimmed across the swollen mound of one breast and pulled the other nipple deep.

  I moaned as pleasure speared through me, opening my legs wider in a silent plea.

  Dialle didn’t disappoint, He tucked his hips and drove the thick length of his rigid cock into me, slowly pressing himself deep. I cried out at the exquisite pleasure, reveling in the way his body stretched mine so completely. I wrapped my calves around his deliciously firm buttocks as he began a slow, measured invasion of my pulsing sheath.