Silver-Tongued Devil Read Online Free Page B

jazzy lounge sound. Sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t call the title to mind.
    In the shadows, Pussy Willow’s silhouette rushed across the stage to take her place. A few seconds later, a single spotlight illuminated the piano. The faery draped across the top like a mink stole. She wore a long, blue-sequined gown and Lana Turner waves spilled over her shoulder.
    She lifted the microphone to her bright red lips like a phallus. The first words were something about making it through the wilderness but not knowing how lost she was. I frowned. Where had I heard this song before? The words were familiar but the bossa nova beat threw me off.
    But then she got to the refrain. With her false-lashed eyes groping the audience, she sang, “Like a virgin, touched for the very first time.”
    A snort escaped my mouth. I couldn’t help it. Adam bit his lip. Giguhl shot a glare over his shoulder.
    It’s not that Pussy’s singing was funny. She actually was doing a pretty good job. But her choice of song was hilarious. I had to give her some credit, though—she was a pretty sexy woman… for someone with a penis.
    I looked around to gauge the audience’s reaction. The crowd at Vein was used to screaming for blood at Demon Fight Club. But I was pleasantly surprised to see most of the patrons enjoying the performance. Especially the nymphs, who gathered in a clutch near the back of the bar. The nymphs usually didn’t take kindly to other hot chicks getting male attention on their turf. After all, they made their living seducing Slade’s patrons. But that night a few of them even sang along with the changeling.
    As I watched, Marty approached Tansy, one of Slade’s most popular nymphs. She was known for providing services to more adventurous johns, like a certain Mischief demon who shall remain nameless. Marty spoke to her briefly and handed her something I couldn’t see. She palmed what he offered and took his hand to lead him to the back rooms.
    Dismissing the exchange, I started to look back at the stage, but a familiar auburn-haired male near the bar caught my eye. My stomach did a little dip. “Shit.”
    Adam turned and followed my gaze. “What’s wrong?”
    Crap. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
    “Oh, nothing.” I shook my head. He’d already seen who caused my reaction so there was no use in lying. “Just surprised to see Slade. I thought he was still in California.”
    Adam shrugged. “Cinnamon said he got back this afternoon. It’ll be interesting to hear what news he has about how Tanith’s doing as Despina.”
    I nodded absently. As much as I wanted to know what was going on now that Tanith had taken over the leadership of the vamp race, I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear it from Slade. Ever since we’d returned to New York, I’d managed to avoid much contact with him.
    My avoidance had less to do with his personality and more to do with our shared, very personal history. As far as Adam knew, that history was old news. I’d told him about how back in Los Angeles in the late ’70s, Slade and I had partnered on a case that went south. And when I say “partnered,” I mean in more ways than one. But what Adam didn’t know was that Slade and I had repeated history just before Maisie was kidnapped. It was only one night and the mancy and I weren’t together at that time, but I’d kept that mistake to myself because I knew it would hurt Adam. Okay, it would hurt me to tell him, too. Regardless, I tried to avoid Slade as a rule to avoid any chance the truth might come out.
    Unfortunately, Slade hadn’t gotten that memo. Because he saw me looking at him and headed our way. I tensed. I couldn’t very well escape the booth with the show going on. Besides, I couldn’t think of a way to justify avoiding Slade that blatantly to Adam. So I just sat there and prayed I didn’t look as uncomfortable as I felt.
    By that point, Pussy Willow had moved on to an acoustic version of “Papa Don’t Preach.”