Chapter Six

Dakata

“No sir, the paperwork has not been filed.”

Everything was turning to shit, and Dakata couldn’t see how that might change anytime soon.

He laid the blame squarely at the feet of his sister's very expensive shoes. He should never have listened to her and gone to the club.

She brought us to Silas.

His demon was like a broken record or worse, like a bad act in the recording booth, repeating the same lyrics over and over again, sounding worse with each run through.

Dakata’s back molars were getting a pounding with how often he was grinding them. Only the threat of visiting their own realm to fuck got his demon to shut the hell up, since they had gone to the address that Christa and gotten for him. What they’d found drove him demon, once more, to lose his shit and emerge, threatening to tear Branson a new asshole when he found the address he’d been given belonged to a bear shifting taxi driver—the one on the piece of paper Christa had given him.

He’d turned up at Branson’s home, because it was clear the manager had lied, and Dakata wasn’t going to take that lying down. Branson had to know where the wood spirit lived. He had to. It took considerable time and hunting through the house for his demon to recede, leaving Dakata apologizing—something he hated doing—about the destruction his demon left behind.

The man was lucky to be alive. But Dakata didn’t dwell on that too hard. His battle with his demon side was actually a little less intense than it should have been, especially when a part of him hated the thought that Silas was sleeping with the bear, or the manager—for reasons he didn’t examine too closely.

Now, five days later, Dakata lacked any real concentration. All his usual techniques that helped him feel calm were useless. None of them were working.

He eyed the smartly dressed demon in front of him with barely constrained annoyance. “What do you mean, the paperwork didn’t get filed with the tax office?” he asked with icy contempt.

His personal secretary, Scott, a blond-haired demon who had balls of steel when he had the audacity to meet Dakata’s stare. Scott had worked for him for ten years and clearly learned that showing weakness right then would make matters worse with his next words.

“Sir, you didn’t finish the paperwork. You advised me on Monday I’d have it on Tuesday. I reminded you yesterday…”

Back to grinding his molars, Dakata glared at Scott, keeping the heat of his embarrassment from filling his cheeks through sheer force of will. All the while he recalled what had prevented him from finishing the VAT return.

Fuck it all to hell!

Claws dug into his palms as Dakata nodded slowly. “Fine. Ring whoever we deal with in the tax office—and not one of the underlings—and put them through to me.”

Scott didn’t so much as bat an eyelid. “Yes, sir.”

Once Scott was out of the office and the door was shut, Dakata cursed, opening the file to see that Scott was indeed right. Not that the other man would dare to lie to him, not if he wanted to keep breathing. He diligently opened up the spreadsheets, transposing the information required to keep the tax man happy, muttering to himself at the exorbitant numbers, before saving and closing the file to send to Scott.

He got no satisfaction or sense of achievement from doing something that needed to be done. Instead, his agitation returned as did the reasons why he was forgetful and out of sorts. Without thinking, he reached for his tumbling stones. They rolled between his fingers, bringing forth their power. Their connection to the demon realm.

His eyes closed, Dakata’s lips moved silently as he did an incantation, instantly regretting his moment of weakness to call his friend, when the air became electric for a beat, and Merihem materialized.

Merihem was a giant demon known as the Red Death for his macabre sense of humor and his habit of leaving the skin of those he killed a dark red. A warning he left for all who encountered the victim. His position in the demon realm was that of ‘controller’. Basically, he was a death demon who dealt with both those in their realm and the human one, who did despicable things.

They had been friends since birth. He was the one person Dakata trusted beyond his own family. Merihem never fed him any bullshit and was the only one who never felt threatened by his demon.

Dark haired and black eyes, they could almost be mistaken for brothers, only Merihem remained in his demon form ninety-nine percent of the time. He was, as usual, naked as he strolled to Dakata’s desk and perched his ass on the corner, grinning. His enormous cock almost shoving itself in Dakata’s face. “Did hell freeze over, Daks? Did Charon forget to come and collect the souls you’ve sent to hell?”

“Can’t you ever be serious,” Dakata groused, still furious with himself for reaching out to ask for help.

“I am being serious,” he replied, eyeing Dakata with lazy interest. “I’m always serious… or so your sister keeps telling me.”

Dakata barked out a laugh despite himself. “That’s not what she says, and you know it.”

Merihem shrugged his powerful shoulders, shifting the long dark locks. “Whatever. That isn’t why you summoned me, is it? To talk about your sister?”

His gaze turned watchful and made Dakata want to squirm, a situation that was uncommon to him when he didn’t know exactly how to address his issue. “I’ve having a problem with my demon side.”

One dark brow popped up. “A problem?”

“He’s being… difficult.”

Merihem leaned forward, bringing his cock closer to Dakata. “About what?”

Dakata pushed back his seat. “Do you have to shove your cock in my face?”

Merihem chuckled, and lifted the offending length and waved it at him. “I remember a time when you were more than a little bit interested in this appendage.”

“We were fucking kids, and you were as equally interested in mine the one time you had it in your mouth,” Dakata fired back, knowing how Merihem hated to be reminded of that. They’d gotten a little drunk on witch's brew and though demons have no preference on who they fuck, Merihem at the time had become fascinated with cocks. They’d laughed about it and moved on as they’d discovered neither was interested in the other in that way.

Sure enough. “You had to go there, didn’t you,” Merihem grumbled, letting go of his cock and with a flick of his fingers he was dressed in jeans and a sweater in his human form. “Happy?”

“Much better,” Dakata muttered, suppressing his satisfaction at getting what he wanted, knowing it wouldn’t last long once he explained what his issue was. If he could explain it.

Merihem remained perched on the edge of Dakata’s desk, his leg now swinging. “So, what’s up with your demon?”

“Friday, I went to Earth Space, a club down on the strip, and…”

“And,” Merihem prompted after several seconds.

The man had no patience. “And there was a singer there, Silas. My demon wants him.” There, he’d said it.

“So?” Merihem raised an eyebrow. “That’s not uncommon. Fuck him and move on. Honestly, what’s the issue here? Unless they aren’t interested, which I find unlikely. I’ve never known you not to score when you actually try to attract someone.”

Dakata couldn’t sit any longer at the thought of having to explain something even he didn’t understand. Jumping out of his chair, he stalked to the window and looked out at the city beneath, shoving his hands into his slacks. “My demon doesn’t want to just fuck.”

“Shit balls! Has this dude created a blissful bond with your demon?”

Dakata spun around and stared wide-eyed at Merihem, his heart thudding painfully hard against his ribs. His demon chuckled, and a shiver of actual terror ran through him. Dakata had heard stories about a blissful bond, but he had never encountered anyone who’d been affected by it. Like other myths that didn’t serve him, Dakata had discarded the whole idea. He seriously thought it was a made up concept someone had come up with that explained why demons like himself and Merihem had to guard against getting close to anyone. The whole idea of being forced by the Fates to share their life with another went completely against a demon’s way of life. “It’s a myth.”

“Give over,” Merihem snorted. “When was anything they taught in demon school a myth? Everything has a basis in mythology going back millennia.” Always a fan of history, Dakata grunted at Merihem’s enthusiasm.

“Fine. Then why have we never met anyone… affected by it?”

“’Cause who’s gonna admit their demon is feeling all sappy about… about…” Merihem’s dark head inclined as he wore an expression of expectation.

“Tree nymph,” Dakata supplied through gritted teeth.

“Nice. They’re as cute as fuck. I’m sure you’ll both be thrilled with your little nymph,” he said, all gleaming white teeth.

Teeth that Dakata wanted to smash down his friend's throat right then, with how wrong—and right—he was. “No one is thrilled, and as I can’t find him and have no address, my demon is driving me crazy.” He hated asking for favors, but if Merihem was right, then he needed one. “Can you go to our realm and speak to the potion maker and get me something to break this… whatever this blissful bond thing is?”

The glint in Merihem’s eyes warned that he wasn’t going to like his reply.

“I can ask… It will cost you. But if memory serves me well—and you know I’m never wrong—there is nothing that counteracts this connection. You saw him. Your demon wants him. It’s done. Has your demon touched this tree nymph yet?”

With his insides jerking around like he was astral projecting, Dakata blocked the fucker inside of him, the one who thought the whole conversation was a giant joke. “He hasn’t.”

“Then right now, that’s your best defense. Don’t ever touch him. Don’t even go near where that wood nymph might be. Because once you’ve touched him, your demon obsession is gonna go crazy.”

Dakata narrowed his eyes, glaring at his friend. “You mean don’t let my demon touch him?”

“You can go with that ruling, if it makes you feel better.” Merihem’s lips twitched, and then his large shoulders started to shake. “You know, if you’re a hundred percent sure that if you saw the wood nymph in the street, or brushed past him in a club, that your demon side wasn’t going to dart out and grab a chunk of cute ass. Yeah, good luck with that,” he spluttered through his laughter. “You’re gonna need it.”