If you summon this demon, he's guaranteed to come!
With a killer succubus leaving a trail of desiccated corpses around town, Detective Lars Thornsson knows he shouldn’t be falling for a suspect, but a hot little piece of demon tail like Rael is impossible to resist.
Sexy male succubus Rael has an insatiable appetite for men that can get him into all kinds of trouble. And he's just found his favorite flavor: a hunky blond detective. When those cool Nordic looks combine with Rael's smouldering dark charms, all Hell could be let loose!
I absolutely fell in love with Rael and Lars and would love to read more about them. JL Merrow has created two unforgettable characters everyone should have an opportunity to meet - Delane, Coffee Time Romance
Merrow’s cheeky turns of phrase and rapid-fire plotting kept me grinning all the way to the sweet, explosive climax. - Lee Benoit
A re-edited and expanded version of a story previously published in the Torquere anthology The Care and Feeding of Demons.
A CALLING FOR PLEASURE
J L MERROW
© 2012 JL Merrow
Cover art by Lou Harper.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Prologue
The rush of the summoning fizzled out of Rael’s brain, leaving his mood switched to high and all his senses buzzing. He’d materialized in a small room with the drapes drawn—a teenager’s bedroom, he guessed from the weird-ass posters on the walls and the eau de socks perfuming the air. There was a raggedy salt circle messing up the carpet around him, and thirteen stubby, smoky little candles he was just itching to snuff before they made the whole room reek like rancid fat. Damn, someone’s mom was going to be mad about this little stunt.
A pimply-faced kid sat on the bed with his jaw hanging open. As Rael watched, a grimoire slipped from slack fingers and fell with a thud to the carpet.
Rael gave the sebum king his best slow smile. “You called?” he breathed, feeling the vibes as his powers rippled right on out through the air.
“You’re... you’re not a succubus!” the kid croaked. “You’re a man!”
Rael raised an eyebrow. “You know, there are laws against gender discrimination in the workplace.”
“In Hell?”
“We’re not in Hell now, are we, honey?” Rael leaned forward, fixing the kid right in the eye. “Now, why don’t we get me out of this circle, and I’ll show you what a real demon can do for you?”
Ψ Ψ Ψ
Detective Lars Thornsson of the Paranormal Enforcement Agency felt the iron bands of an incipient migraine tighten around his forehead. “Another one already?”
They’d been on this case for three weeks now, and were getting nowhere fast. The succubus they were after had put, at last count, thirteen men in the morgue, their souls literally sucked out through their dicks. Just contemplating it made Lars simultaneously wince and think damn, what a way to go.
Lars’ partner, Rochelle, frowned, although that was kind of a default expression with her in any case. “Maybe; maybe not. This one’s still alive. Morton Meers, age eighteen. Found by his parents. He’d called a demon into his bedroom, would you believe it? Salt circle a fucking fairy could have gotten out of, and the candles damn near set fire to the drapes.” She snorted her disapproval. “Amateur.”
“Successful amateur,” Lars reminded her. “Even if he did get more than he bargained for.” He had a grudging respect for anyone who actually managed to get magic to work for them—his own Talent level rated slightly lower than your average tabby cat. As the half-human son of an Immortal, it had been a source of acute embarrassment all his life. “So what was the damage? To the kid, I mean.”
Rochelle shrugged. “Usual. Massive dehydration, exhaustion, localized skin abrasion. Only not fatal, this time.”
“So either our serial killer draws the line at kids, or we got us a whole different demon—this one with a conscience,” Lars mused.
“Guess so. Or it was real grossed out by the kid’s acne.”
Lars smiled despite himself. “Doesn’t sound like our girl, but I guess we’ll have to check it out. Has the kid made a statement?”
“Oh, yeah. Doesn’t remember a damn thing, he says. Can’t explain how the salt got there, just lit the candles because he thought they were pretty, and no, ma’am, he’d never seen that grimoire in his life.” She laughed. At least, if it was anyone else, Lars would have called that sound a laugh. Rochelle wasn’t exactly known for her sense of humor. Unlike her parents, of course. Actually, come to think of it, being christened Chelle Rochelle probably went a fair way toward explaining why she didn’t have a sense of humor.
“So, do we know if he had the brains to command the demon to get its ass back to Hell after it had done its thing?” he asked without a lot of hope.
“Actually, we pretty much know he didn’t. The window was broken from the inside—left glass all over the front yard. Our demon must have leapt out after it munched on the kid.”
Fantastic. So now it looked like they had two rogue succubi running loose in the city. Lars sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. “Hell. We have to get a description out of this kid, put out an APB. Just because Meers got lucky doesn’t mean the next victim isn’t going to wind up dehumidifying the morgue.”
Ψ Ψ Ψ
Morton Meers was perched on the edge of his hospital bed swinging his heels and looking a hell of a lot younger than eighteen. Maybe the hospital gown covered in teddy-bears helped some, but Lars reckoned the fact that he was a scrawny little runt with a face you could play connect-the-dots on probably had more to do with it.
Lars dragged up an encouraging smile. “Mr. Meers? I’m Detective Thornsson, this is Detective Rochelle. We need to ask you a couple of questions about the night you were attacked.”
The kid blanched. “I told you guys already, I don’t remember anything,” he whined.
“That was the regular cops, son. We’re the Paranormal Enforcement Agency. We understand you might not want everyone to know exactly what happened that night.” He grabbed a chair and sat down, hoping it’d make him look a little more approachable. At six foot four, he knew he tended to intimidate people. “Maybe you’d prefer to talk to my partner?” He looked hopefully at Rochelle, who was leaning against the wall with her arms folded.
Apparently not too big on maternal instincts, Rochelle scowled at Lars briefly before directing an insincere smile at the victim. “You know, you’d hardly be the first young man who’s looked for supernatural assistance in finding a girlfriend.” Her tones, Lars guessed, were meant to be sugared, but they came out more like they’d been gritted.
“It wasn’t a girl!” the kid blurted out, clapping his hands to his mouth afterward, presumably scared what else might slip out.
Well, that put a different slant on it. “I’m sorry, Mr. Meers,” Lars said, getting up. “I guess there’s been a misunderstanding. We’re on the hunt for a succubus that’s a serial killer. But if you called up an incubus—”
“No! I’m not like that!” Meers looked even smaller in his desperation.
Lars felt sorry for him. “Son, there’s no shame in being gay. I’m that way myself—”
The kid backed away a little, his hands disappearing behind him like he was trying to hold his hospital gown closed at the back. “I’m not! I wanted a girl, okay, but this, this man turned up, and he... oh, fuck, he...”
“Blew your brains out?” Rochelle’s tone was sardonic.
Lars looked at her in resignation.
“Oh, God!” The kid collapsed on the bed and put his face in his hands. “Am I going to turn into a fag?”
That migraine was coming along nicely now. “That’s generally not how it happens,” Lars said, as kindly as he could.
Ψ Ψ Ψ
“So, do you think it’s our demon?” Rochelle asked bluntly as they got back into their squad car.
Lars shrugged. “Hard to tell. Hell, I didn’t even know you could get male succubi.”
Rochelle fixed him with a speculative look. “Lemme guess, Thornsson, your teenage years would’ve been one helluva lot more interesting if you’d known.”
Lars coloured, his thoughts having been running along pretty similar lines—especially if it had been this particular demon. They’d had to prise a detailed description out of Meers with a crowbar, but it sounded like this guy was hot stuff. Smooth dark skin, slender, graceful body, mischievous eyes and a mouth that—well, Meers had gotten kind of incoherent at that point, but Lars had a damn good imagination and he figured he could fill in the gaps.
“We need to re-examine the files of the previous victims,” he said, pressing on with business. “See if there’s anything to suggest they were bisexual or homosexual.”
Rochelle chewed her lip reflectively. “Or, we could try a scrying. Get me those pieces of glass from the kid’s window—a dollar will get you twenty that demon left some blood on one of them when it busted outta there.”
“Good point—if it did, that could be our big break in this case. Odin knows we’re due for one. Okay, C, you’re the expert here. Fire up that bowl of yours and let’s see what you can get.”
Ψ Ψ Ψ
Licking distractedly at the scratch on his hand, Rael wandered through the darkening city streets with a big old happy grin on his face. Damn, it had been way too long since he’d last been topside. What was it, a century? Two? The population seemed to have exploded since then. Main Street was like a frickin’ smorgasbord. A cute young man in jeans so tight he had to have made a deal with the devil just to get them on that perfect, round ass sauntered on by then stopped, spinning on his heel. He tipped Rael a wink and handed him a flyer.