They'd told me the monster I'd be hunting was an incubus, but no one had told me that he would be the most beautiful man I'd ever laid my eyes on.

They'd given me the walking definition of sex. Definitely on purpose. Can't say I've ever been popular with the angel bloods. If not for our shared heritage, they'd have casted me out ages ago. I guess my loose tongue is getting grating after twenty-one years.

My sable hair is curls artfully around my face, blue contacts hiding the swirling golden irises beneath them. The skimpy red dress I'd raided from a friend's closet clings to my body, feet wobbling in my stilt-like heels. My chest is practically spills out of the sweetheart neckline, but I think that's a good thing. Sex demons like boobs, right?

I sigh, mouth tugging into a thin line as I realize that Sinclair already has a woman on his lap, curled around him like a snake before it chokes out its prey. I huff a wry breath at the irony of it all. Little does she know, she sits atop the city's most notorious monster.

With a quick reassuring pat to the black purse that hangs to my hip, I force a sultry smile onto my mouth and a sway to my hips and hope I don't look as idiotic as I feel inside.

They're making out now. God help me. Her fiery hair is draped over his face, manicured nails twining through his thick head of somber hair. He's dressed in a shirt the color of night, the sleeves rolled up to his elbow to showcase the lean muscle. A tattoo runs along his olive skin, the end of a winding serpent scribed along the uncovered section of his toned forearm in black ink. Black jeans hang upon his legs sinfully, and the girl straddling him grinds against his crotch with a fierce desperation.

My nose crinkles in distaste before I can stop it. I have no godly idea how they both manage to stay balanced upon the bar stool, or how it could be even remotely comfortable. But to each and their own, I suppose.

I push through the drunken dancing bodies around me, making my way to the bar until I stand a few feet away from their passionate bodies. I clear my throat, leaning my hip to the side.

The noise gets lost in the murmuring crowd that surrounds us and the music so loud that it makes my ears ring. With an exasperated sigh, I half-shout, "Sinclair?"

Still nothing. Oh god, if anything, they're only going harder. She's trying to unbutton his pants and shove her hand inside.

I don't know what the hell I'm doing when I grab her arm, giving it a sharp tug of warning. She startles, shooting me a look of bewilderment. Smears of crimson lipstick mar her cheeks.

"What the fuck?"

"I can take it from here," I say, leaning forward so that my boobs practically fall into her face. Her gaze narrows on them and then creeps back up to my face, indignation lighting across her features.

"Fuck off, skank," she hisses, whipping her arm away from my hand.

I'd love to flash some fear into her right now, but pulling anything remotely violent would ruin everything I'm working at, so instead I wave my fingers at her like she's a pesky fly buzzing around my head. "You heard me. Shoo."

The man sitting under her chuckles. The sound brushes over my skin like dark satin and I find myself wishing to wrap myself in it. "Go on, gorgeous. I'll find you a little later."

I blink. Well, that was easier than I thought.

She looks at him, the exasperated look across her face comical. She shoots me a glare that tells me she'd tear me down if not for the handsome man sitting underneath her and then pulls away from him, sauntering into the crowd that surrounds us.

I nearly startle at his face up close. Dark stubble lines his sharp jaw, a stray piece of hair falling across his face from where his woman had jostled the strand out of his dark bun with her roaming fingers. Stormy eyes stare back at me, the same color of steel. He has a strong nose, large and straight, and somehow purely masculine.

Oh god, this is going to be harder than I thought. It always is when they have a pretty face. His eyebrow quirks as his gaze slithers down my body, seemingly unimpressed. It doesn't surprise me. People have always told me I have a sweet face, one more fit for a cherub than seducing men. "Do I know you?"

I flash him a smile, stepping closer to him so more cleavage flashes into view. "Don't remember me?"

His eyes skim over my body before settling back onto my face. Boredom and slight male fascination glimmer in his gaze."I think I'd remember a little vixen like you."

I make an affronted sound and press my shoulder into his chest, searching his dark eyes. Smiling, I reach up and trace the line of his plump bottom lip. "Should I be offended?"

He grunts, taking my fingers in his warm grip and pushing them away from his mouth. "Maybe."

Isn't he a demon that thrives off of sex? Maybe I'm not his type. Who knew that monstrous scum could have preferences.

"Well that's not nice," I frown, summoning my best ditzy displeased look. "Maybe this will remind you." Before he can protest, I push his lips against mine.

He sinks into the kiss, responding immediately. I bite his lip gently as he growls against my mouth, sweeping his tongue against mine.

I pull back, my head spinning. It's not my first kiss, but certainly the best. Not that I have much experience in that department. Being of angel descent also means I can't enjoy sins of the flesh. At least, not if they're without divine blood. Have to keep the line pure, I guess.

His eyes glint as they stare at me. He snorts. "Definitely haven't fucked you."

"What makes you say that?"

"You can't kiss for shit," he says.

I blink, chagrin burning my cheeks. If I weren't trying to seduce him he'd be getting my knee to his balls. "Then why did you act like you liked it?" His arm is snaked around my waist, hand squeezing my ass.

He stares at me for a moment and I finish the thought for myself. He'd likely been feeding off my energy. Damn leech.

I try to rein in the need to slap him in his annoyingly hot face and instead flash him a pretty smile. "Teach me?"

"No."

I pause, smile turning icy. "What?"

"I don't fuck virgins."

"You don't—what? Who says I'm a virgin?"

"No one needs to say it, angel. It's as clear as day."

I stiffen at the nickname, glancing down at my arm. Sure enough, the large gothic cross inked onto my forearm marking me as an angel blood is covered by the small off the shoulder sleeve of my dress. I force myself to take a small breath and calm my thundering heart.

Gritting my teeth, I rack my brain for a different plan. I need to get him away from the crowd. Somewhere that we're both alone.

"Maybe you can show me on your lady friend," I purr, trailing my finger along the skin revealed by a few open buttons. My stomach tightens at the thought of leaving my duty unfinished. To say they'd be pissed would be the understatement of the year.

He cocks his head, watching me like a cat with an eye for its prey. Silence stretches between us.

"Well," he says, mouth quirking as his eyes drift to whatever stands behind me. "Can't say I'm interested, angel, but he might be willing to take you for a ride."

It's then I notice the body heat that settles over my back, the breath that fans over the side of my neck as whoever hovers behind me puts their face to my ear.

"You're a cute little thing," he says, his voice smoothing over my skin with the same richness as dark chocolate. I note the goosebumps that rise on my arms at his presence, the magnetism that beckons me to lean against him.

Another incubus. Great.

I smile tightly, swiveling my head to look at him. Eyes paler than ice stare back at me, framed by a strong brow and high cheekbones. Short blonde hair sits atop his head, a stray piece flopping into his eyes. I can see how others could be drawn to him—he's as handsome as they come, as pristine as a Ken doll, so different from the ruggedness of Sinclair Black. But something feels off about him. Cold. I know I can't be picky when it comes to demons, but there's something distinctively unsettling about this man.

"Hi there," I murmur, trying my best not to shift away from where his chest presses to my shoulder.

"Why don't we take her with us, Sin?" he says, his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Won't hurt aside from a little extra fun."

Sinclair's jaw ticks as he considers me, and although something desperately screams at me that this is a terrible idea, I know this will be my only chance.

"I won't cause trouble," I say, flashing a sweet grin as he raises his eyebrow. I'm not sure if he entirely suspects me, but I know he can tell something doesn't seem right. "Not much, anyway," I finish teasingly.

He takes another moment to study me, sighing as his gaze settles on the man behind me. "Fine," he says finally, "but don't get carried away this time."

With that, they uproot themselves, heading toward a small dark hallway absent of people. Everything inside of me screams to run away, but Ken doll tugs me along mindlessly as he intertwines his arm with mine. As I glance behind us, I notice that the read head has joined Sinclair's side once again, trailing her fingers over his arm and broad shoulders as they follow behind us.

As we push past the grinding bodies, my stomach twists into a tight knot. My fingers absentmindedly drift back to my purse, smoothing over the dark leather as if I can feel the cold steel that hides under its surface.

I should be excited. Happy that I won't be punished for leaving my divine duty unfulfilled. But somehow the only emotion I can seem to muster is a dull sense of dread.