Touch of the Angel (Demons of Infernum, #3) by Rosalie Lario

designs on Amara.
    Keegan gave a defeated shake of his head. “If we’re not turning her in right away, I don’t see any other option.”
    “Well, this should be a barrel of laughs.” Taeg stomped over to the bar and grabbed a beer out of the mini-fridge. “Can’t wait ’til this job is over.”

Chapter Seven

    Daybreak was almost upon them, and Amara had yet to bring him Lucio’s essence. She should have returned by now. Knowing the consequences, would she dare fail him yet again?
    Asmodeus gritted his teeth and stalked from his main chamber to the balcony that lined a good portion of the third floor. At times he didn’t know why he bothered with Amara. She was the strongest-willed of his six succubi, often finding ways to thwart his authority. Beyond annoying, she was. He would have destroyed her long ago, but she was still useful. Given her willful streak, he hadn’t trusted assigning the bounty hunters to her, but she’d been good at collecting backup men. Just in case he couldn’t retrieve the brothers’ essences in time.
    The dark elf Asmodeus had assigned to Amara was a perfect specimen. Powerful. Successful. A good find. Not the brothers Belpheg had ordered him to get, but a close second, one he hoped he wouldn’t need. Amara should have been able to seduce Lucio.
    So where was she?
    His succubi were the best of their kind. Intelligent. Beautiful. Capable of luring in countless prey. None more so than Amara. He loved them all, the way any master should love his prized pets. And if they disobeyed...the punishment was always severe.
    The first few tendrils of light snaked up along the horizon, like coils of lightning shooting off the neighboring rooftops. Almost daybreak, and still no sign of her. He stroked the gold band around his wrist, the one linking him to each of his succubi. Where was she?
    With a muttered curse, he pushed off the iron railing and walked inside. He left his opulent chamber and wound his way through the quiet hall, with its walls painted in terra-cotta that matched the exterior. Then he stepped down the curved staircase to the second level.
    The door to one of the rooms opened and a bare-chested Gofrey stumbled out. He rubbed his bleary eyes. “Master, is there something I can do for you?”
    “I’ll let you know.” Asmodeus swept past him without another word. He rounded a corner, entering the wing where his succubi slumbered, and passed Amara’s empty room. Solara’s chamber was next to hers, and he threw the door open. Even though it banged against the wall, she didn’t wake. She lay in the bed under sapphire silk sheets with her long, dark hair splayed across the pillows. She’d discarded her dress on the floor next to the bed, and as the dark shadows under her eyes attested, she’d only recently arrived from her evening’s escapades.
    Did the stupid whore even know Amara hadn’t returned?
    He stopped at the side of the bed and tore off the sheet.
    “What the—” She sat up with a start, and he wound a hand around her hair, yanking back on it so her startled eyes could meet his.
    “Where. Is. She?”
    A glimmer of fear sparked in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Amara. She hasn’t returned from her mission.”
    “She hasn’t?” When she glanced toward the heavy curtains, a hint of concern replaced the fear on her face. “I have no idea where she is.”
    Was the bitch lying?
    Asmodeus jerked on her hair, forcing her to her feet. Her full, bare breasts bounced as she rose. Even though it had been less than an hour since he’d slaked his lust with one of the other succubi, and though he was still shaken from his last meeting with Belpheg, the sight of them awakened his interest. Solara had always been a beautiful woman—almost as beautiful as Amara. Even though she was twice Amara’s age, she only appeared a few years older. She had sex demon biology to thank for that. Outward appearances of aging ceased around the age of