a greasy spoon breakfast place, Vik crammed against him and Kiana shooting them both suspicious glances from across the table. At five a.m. in Vegas, their appearances didn’t attract the first stare. Of course, the guy at the grill, tattooed to look like a lizard, with implanted bumps on his forehead, raised the weirdness bar pretty high.
Hmmm…Hadn’t Vik seen him once on level seven?
Kiana tapped an orange-taloned fingertip against her chin. “Anything I want?
“Anything.”
She glanced right and left, then took a bite of beaten, scrambled, mauled, or whatever hash browns. After a few bites and much Mmmmmmmmming, she finally came up for air. “Well, I certainly don’t want to spend my life chasing Vik’s little demons.” She shot an apologetic glance Vik’s way. “No offense, Highness.”
“Hey!” Most demonesses would be honored to chase Vik’s spawn around. If he chose to have any.
Kiana scowled. “Right, like you’re in a hurry to do what your mother wants.”
“Okay, you non-love birds.” Dillon drummed his fingertips against a scarred tabletop. “We need to focus here. Kiana, what do you want to do with your life? Really want to do.”
“I want to be a Victoria’s Secret model.”
Really? Wow! Vik could have been married to a model—and he would have gone for it if Mom offered him Tyson Beckford or Marcus Schenkenburg. Maybe.
“How good are you at glamour?” Dillon held up the cover of Sports Illustrated’s Swimsuit Issue.
Kiana took and held a deep breath. Her eyes crossed with her efforts. Slowly her skin tones faded to tan, and her hair to strawberry blond. Even her horn nubs disappeared. She looked up and smiled, the perfect image of an attractive human female.
Nice. Too bad Vik couldn’t glamour his own appearance so easily.
Dillon cocked his head to the side and regarded Kiana. He tilted her face this way and that with one index finger. “Close enough.”
“Can you really make this happen?” The demoness bounced on her chair, far more excited than she’d been about the prospect of being tied for all eternity to Vik. Should he be hurt?
“An ex sets up photo shoots for several retail giants. Victoria’s Secret is a client. He can get you right in.” Dillon snuck a piece of potato off Kiana’s plate when she wasn’t looking.
Vik did a double take. “This is the third or fourth ex you’ve mentioned. Exactly how many men have you been with?” Vik was hardly a virgin himself, but pride dictated that a lord of the underworld—a centuries-old lord of the underworld—have more sexual conquests than a mere twenty-something human.
“Don’t sweat it, big guy. All in practice for you.”
Damn, but Dillon had a way with words.
Vik managed to conjure up the illusion of a dungeon in his apartment. He couldn’t let Tazlina have the upper hand, even if he didn’t know how to use all the spikes, spears, axes, Uzis, et cetera, he hung from the walls.
“We’ll try those out later.” Dillon nudged Vik’s side, winked, and nodded toward a Saint Andrew’s Cross and cat o’ nine tails in the corner.
Oh no! That image needed to leave his mind before their guest arrived. “Can’t we change the appointment to later?” A lot later.
Dillon sighed. “Sadly, the clock is ticking.”
A knock sounded on the door.
“You sit,” Dillon said, pointing toward the couch. “Remember your rank. Use it if you have to.”
Dillon opened the door. Even somewhat prepared, Vik gave an involuntary shiver as Tazlina ducked through the door.
“Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.” Dillon managed to keep his normal high-energy thrumming to a minimum.
Tazlina attempted to sit down on the couch, as far away from Vik as possible to still occupy the same piece of furniture. Her armor clinked, stopping her midway. “I think I’ll stand, if it’s all the same to you.”
Vic stood too. If she’d attacked…
Dillon was doing well, so Vic kept his mouth shut. Why ruin a good thing?
Dillon said, “The reason we brought you here—”
Tazlina splayed her palm toward Dillon’s face. “No need to tell me. Mommy Scariest announces she wants her little boy”—she hiked a thumb at Vik—“to settle down and have kids. Then she throws me under the bus. I’m not happy about it either, but she’s the boss, what can I say?” Her sigh wafted out a two-foot .
Suddenly Vik felt sorry for a demoness as trapped in this situation as he was. “So, you really don’t want to get married.” Whew! Maybe if he told his mother…
“Let’s face it. No, offense, Vik, but I don’t want to spend eternity in your