My Soul to Play (Games People Play Book 2) Read online

  "May I ask why you are looking here for her?"

  "She was last seen entering this club." I provided a few more details.

  "This is a missing person's case?" she asked, surprise in her voice. She retrieved my card and looked at it. "Why Detective, you are being very naughty."

  "I'm a family friend," I said. "I said I'd look into it. I thought perhaps you could check the old schedule and see who was on duty. Maybe you'd let me talk to them. I'd like to know if anyone remembers her. Maybe they saw her leave."

  The woman drummed her fingernails on her desk several times then smiled. "I am fairly certain you will require a warrant before I am obligated to provide that information."

  "Ms. Marsh," I said. "Her family is worried."

  "I imagine they are. But you have been naughty, Detective." She smiled again. "If you ask for a warrant, I imagine you will earn yourself quite the official spanking. I wonder perhaps if you wouldn't prefer the sort of spanking I might deliver."

  She said it quite simple, but even so, I shivered at her words. "Yes, please," my body said. "Down, girl!" I muttered to myself.

  She leaned back, still watching me, and I found I couldn't take my eyes from her. She was quite stunning. Quite stunning. And so far out of my league, we didn't even play on the same planet.

  I found myself staring into her eyes. They were quite odd, I thought, almost pure black. I couldn't tell where her pupil ended and her iris began. It was as if she had a pair of very, very wide pupils. The effect was disconcerting.

  But I couldn't stop staring.

  She leaned closer, and closer still. I found myself mirroring her. Soon, we were separated only by a few inches, and I couldn't tear my gaze from hers.

  "You will take your search elsewhere, Detective," she said in a commanding voice. "There are no answers for you here."

  Then I felt a push against my mind.

  And my mind pushed back.

  Her eyes widened, and she reared back. And I swear, her eyes flashed red at me.

  "What are you?" we both asked at the same time. Then we both froze.

  She broke the spell first. She laughed. "Tell me, Detective. Are you good at your job?"

  "Yes."

  "And yet you arrived here without looking into the owner of this club. I am not impressed." Her smile faded. "What are you?"

  "A police detective, hoping to find a missing family friend."

  She left me flustered, but I knew one thing: the good Ms. Marsh wasn't entirely human. I wondered what she was, but my first thought was simple. Vampire.

  The thought made me nervous. I blurted out, "I called in before I entered the club. The place will be filled with cops if I don't check back."

  "Oh my," she said. "Detective, I would never give the police of this fine city a reason to bother me. I am meticulous in running a good, clean business. You are far safer inside my office than you are crossing the street outside."

  "What are you?" I asked.

  She leaned back in her chair, smiling again. Sexy again. "I propose an exchange of information. I'll show you mine if you show me yours, shall we say?"

  "I have no interest-"

  "Oh please," she said. "You are quite interested. But that's not what I meant. This time. What are you, Detective?"

  "You tried to glamour me."

  "If you were a normal police officer, you wouldn't have noticed. Detective, you are crossing department boundaries. This case is not yours. And so you have little weight to throw around. Furthermore, as I already said, I am meticulous in my business dealings. I could open my books to you and let you dig all you want, and you won't find so much as an underage delinquent successfully buying a beer from one of my bartenders. If you want any information at all, there will be quid pro quo, and you get to go first. Now, I won't ask again. What are you?"

  I looked at her for a while, not answering. "I don't know," I said finally. "There might be a little fae blood. I really don't know."

  She tapped her lips.

  "I know that's not the answer you wanted," I added. "It's the best I have. What are you?"

  She continued to tap her lips for a minute, then she smiled again, and she was radiant. "You haven't guessed?"

  "No."

  She shimmered, and her appearance changed. She went from being a drop dead gorgeous woman to being a...

  She had horns. And was that a tail? The tail snaked out from around her chair and waved around behind her. It was long and slender, and the last foot or so was forked, the two branches appearing to wave independently.

  Her skin was different as well. It was scaled, very fine iridescent scales, gold with a red tint. She flicked her tongue at me. It was long, very, very long, and forked, like a snake's.

  I stared at her.

  I should have been horrified, but if she was distractingly sexy as a human, she was even more so in this form. I stared, and I stared. And then she shimmered again, and the human was back.

  "Illusion?" I asked in a quiet voice.

  "No."

  "You're beautiful."

  "Thank you. Do you know what I am?"

  "Demon." I gulped.

  "Relax, Detective," she said. "I'm a bit of a free agent. I don't work for..." she looked at the floor. "You're soul is perfectly safe. And I wouldn't hurt a hair on your head, unless you begged me to."

  I stared. "You're a demon."

  "Yes. Do you know what happens if you tell anyone?"

  "I get locked up in the psych ward."

  "Yes." She leaned forward again. "Where I have friends." Then she leaned back. "But I want us to be friends, and friends don't share each others' secrets."

  "You're a demon."

  She smiled. "Let me know when you've caught up to the conversation."

  "I-" I managed to look away. "I wouldn't suppose you're going to tell me what you did with the girl."

  "Who said I did anything with her?" she asked.

  "If you know where she is, and you don't tell me-"

  "Wait. Don't tell me. Hindering a police investigation, right? Except this isn't an official police investigation, is it?"

  "I can send Sergeant McCullum back here."

  "Go ahead." She smiled. "I don't think you want to do that, though. You want me to answer your questions."

  "Is she alive?"

  She tsk-tsked at me. "Really, Detective." She got up from her chair. I couldn't take my eyes off her as she walked around to sit on the desk, looming over me. "Do you want me to answer your questions?"

  "Yes, Ms. Marsh."

  "I will make a deal with you."

  "A deal with the devil?"

  "Demon, not devil, and I already told you I have little interest in your soul. I won't even try to corrupt you. That's not my style, anyway. If you want me to answer your questions, you will play a game with me."

  "A game."

  "Yes. If you agree to my game, then whether you win or not, I'll answer your questions. I will answer every question you ask, at least about the girl, but you will also answer my questions."

  "I'm not interested."

  "Oh, but you haven't heard my entire offer." She smiled and leaned forward, now truly looming over me, and I leaned back in the chair. But there was nowhere to go. "If you win, nothing happens. You have won. If I win, then I. Get. You." And with that, she reached out and tapped my nose.

  "You can't be serious."

  "Only for twenty-four hours, darling," she said. "I won't hurt you. Oh, you might be a little sore afterwards." She grinned. "Oh, who am I kidding? You'll walk funny for a week. But it will be the best twenty-four hours of your life."

  "I'm not playing your game, and I'm not answering your questions."

  "Pity," she said. She slipped from her perch on the desk. "Let me show you out."

  "Wait!" I said. "Please, Ms. Marsh. The girl-"

  "You've heard my offer, Detective," she said. "It's the best offer you're going to get from me. But you're not interested. I thought perhaps you might be."


  "Like you would really answer my questions."

  "Of course I would," she said, "each and every one. Oh, not on tape, of course. But I would answer, and I would answer honestly." She smiled, and I almost melted, staring at her lips. "Perhaps you'll think about it, Detective. Let me show you out now."

  She didn't wait. Instead, she stepped to my side, collected my arm, and lifted. I found myself rising. She let me collect the photographs from her desk, but she kept control of my arm.

  And if I were being honest, I'd have to say I didn't mind. With her standing this close to me, her scent was intoxicating. Even knowing what she was, my traitorous body wanted her. And I'm sure she knew it.

  She pulled me from her office, laughing lightly. As we walked towards the front door, she laid her head on my shoulder, acting for all the world as if we were best friends or new lovers. Heads turned to watch us, but I didn't care.

  Reaching the door, she turned me to face her. I found us practically nose to nose. "It has been lovely, Detective," she said, her voice a gentle purr. She reached with a hand and caressed my cheek. I let her. I shouldn't have, but I let her. "Perhaps you will allow me to give you something special to remember me by." I didn't answer -- I couldn't answer. She laughed lightly again. "A kiss."

  "No."

  "One kiss." She caressed my lips with her thumb. "It will give you very, very good dreams tonight."

  I pulled away from her. It was hard, but I pulled away. "No."

  She stuck out a lip, pouting. My eyes dropped from hers to the lip. It was a kissable lip, a very, very kissable lip.

  And she knew it. Of course she knew it.

  "A kiss might help you find the girl faster," she said.

  "Just how is a kiss going to help my investigation?"

  "One kiss, and you won't stop thinking about me. You'll be ready to play my game so much sooner. And then I'll answer your questions."

  I stepped one more step further away, my hand reaching for the door behind me. "I don't think so," I told her. "You're dangerous."

  "I'm a pussy cat, Detective. I wouldn't harm a hair on your head."

  "You're still dangerous," I said. "You get into someone's head, and soon, that's all she can think about. She keeps coming to you, over and over, until you're her entire life. You're dangerous."

  "Why Detective, it sounds almost as if you have personal experience."

  "I'll find Rachel," I said. "If you've hurt her-"

  "Oh Detective," she interrupted. "I'm a lover, not a fighter." She blew me a kiss. "If you think about me while touching yourself tonight, I'll know."

  At that, my composure began to flee me, and so I fled from her. Once safely on the sidewalk, I stopped.

  "Fuck!"

  Off-Duty

  Walking back to my car, I called in.

  "The Captain is looking for you, Detective. His words were, 'Where is that damned St. Claire?'"

  Damn it. "All right. I was heading there next, anyway. Half hour."

  "I'll tell him."

  A demon. A fucking demon. Just what I needed. And Rachel had material in her apartment about demons. Fuck. None of this was coincidence.

  Officially, none of the supernatural creatures existed. If I breathed the word 'demon', I'd find myself investigating cases that have been cold for twenty years, and I'd never climb out of that again. Nope. There were no demons. No witches. No fae. No werewolves. Evidence? Evidence disappeared. If someone was particularly pushy about it? That person would find herself an unwilling guest of one of the more secure treatment facilities, where she would rot for a very, very long time.

  Fuck.

  At this point, I could play this three ways. I could give up. I could continue doing this the police way, well, with the little twist that it wasn't my case. Or I could do it the demon's way.

  There wasn't coming back from that path, but I wasn't one to give up, either.

  I spent the rest of my drive going around and around in circles, wondering what I was going to do.

  * * * *

  I entered the station with a certain amount of dread. If McCullum had complained about me, then I was about to get called on the carpet. But I closed cases, so at least my career wasn't at stake.

  I made it to my desk with no one derailing me. I sat down to collect my messages and check email, but I hadn't been there fifteen seconds before the captain's booming voice drew my attention.

  "St. Claire. Get your fucking ass in my office, and bring that busy-body nose of yours with it."

  Yep. McCullum had complained.

  I rose from my desk. The captain was glaring at me. As soon as he was sure I was following, he turned. I followed him through the station to his office. He held the door as I stepped past him, and then, as if I didn't already know he was pissed, he slammed the door, shaking the windows in the process.

  "Hey, Captain."

  "Shut the fuck up." He moved to his side of the desk, but he hadn't told me to sit. So I stood at attention, waiting. "What the fuck are you doing, St. Claire? We don't have enough cases to investigate? You have to take them from other units?"

  "Captain, I can explain."

  "No, you cannot. I just got my ass reamed, and now you're going to experience what it is like." And then he spent the next ten minutes doing just that. And while, of course, he never touched me, physically I felt as if he had.

  I waited until he wound down before I said, "Captain, I found her."

  He stared at me then said, his tone still harsh, "So I presume you have returned her to the warm embrace of her family."

  "Not exactly."

  He pointed to the chair. "Sit." I sat across from him and he stared at me again. "You found her."

  "More or less."

  "So you didn't really find her."

  "In a half day, I made more progress than McCullum did in the week and a half he paid attention to the case. I have a pretty good idea what happened to her. Two minutes. Give me two minutes, Captain."

  He gave me the two minutes. I laid out what I had found, omitting any mention of demons or games demons play. When I was done, he watched me for a minute, his hands folded together, the knuckles just touching his lips. Finally he set his hands on his desk, still folded together, and leaned forward.

  "Give everything you've got to McCullum and get back to your assigned case load."

  "They stopped looking."

  "And now you're going to stop looking! This is not your case."

  "But-"

  "St. Claire!" he bellowed. "Think about who has the authority to ream my ass." The list was short, very short.

  "Her family deserves to know-"

  He slammed his fist on his desk, and I shut up. We glared at each other. And then I made a decision.

  "I have some leave coming."

  He leaned back, deflating. We both knew what I was saying. I wasn't going to drop it, but if I worked it on my time, it wasn't his problem.

  "Girls disappear every day-"

  "I know her, Captain."

  "Fuck."

  "Not well. She's the cousin of someone I used to know well."

  "She's been gone six weeks. Either she took off on her own or she's dead. Is it worth your career?"

  "I don't think she's dead, and I don't think she took off. I think she's in trouble and needs help. My help."

  "Fuck. God damn it, St. Claire!"

  "Do you want me to let her rot, Captain?"

  "It's not your case, St. Claire."

  "I have leave coming," I repeated.

  He shook his head. "You can't use department resources."

  "I'll just wrap up what I'm working on," I said. "The Minsky case. Then I'll take a few days."

  "Officially, you are off-duty. What you do in your own time, I don't know."

  "Of course, Captain," I said.

  I stood up and had my hand on the doorknob before he said, "St. Claire." I turned back to face him. "One week. After that, you drop this."

  "But-"


  "If you haven't found her in a week, the only thing you're going to find is a body. And I will not have a search for a body destroy your career. We've seen officers, good officers, who have let a single case consume their lives. One week, and you're done. No late night investigations. No stopping by this club every few days to remind them you're still looking. No stalking. None of that shit. Do you hear me?"

  I nodded. "Yes, Captain."

  "Good. Get out of here."

  "Thank you, Captain."

  He was one of the good ones.

  * * * *

  I spent what was left of the afternoon doing research. There wasn't anything to do on the Minsky case -- I'd updated the report last night. It was one of those cases that was going to drag out, and if it didn't get any attention from me for a few days, well, Mr. Minsky wasn't going anywhere.

  I dug into Ms. Evaline Marsh. The available information was sparse. She had a driver's license, but a background check unearthed not so much as a parking ticket. Without a warrant, I couldn't dig into her finances, but I searched what I could. There was little to find. She owned a home in an affluent section of suburbia. I pulled up Google Maps and my eyes bugged out at the size.

  I turned my focus to the club. It was owned by Red Tail Enterprises. So, Ms. Marsh had a sense of humor. Red Tail owned not just the club, but the entire block the club was on. They also owned a variety of other properties around town, and when I dug deeper, I discovered they were all associated with some sort of public establishment. Ms. Marsh, it appeared, owned three nightclubs, four restaurants -- two of which I liked -- several coffee shops, and an upscale gift shop.

  I wondered if the demon owned Red Tail outright or if she had partners. I did a search, but it was a privately held company, and I would need to throw more weight around than I currently had to dig deeply.

  Police reports against the clubs yielded something interesting. Most drinking establishments had occasional visits by police offers responding to a variety of disturbances. When you mix alcohol and testosterone, the effects are readily predictable. But the reports against the Red Tail clubs were sparse, really sparse. They'd had a few calls for medical assistance. There weren't any heart attacks listed, but there had been a few choking incidents, one person experiencing a severe allergy reaction, and one worker hurt through his own negligence while working on a remodel to one of the clubs.