My Demon Saint (Shifting Reality 2)

Chapter One

Boredom was a worm burrowing in his head, playing Perry Como’s greatest hits as it went. Or was that Hell? Saint would have to ask next time he ran into the sperm-donating incubus he liked to call Dad.

The penthouse apartment that had been his haven until now was mocking him with a silence that jarred his spine and set his teeth on edge. No thoughts but his own. No company but his own. As scintillating a conversationalist as he could be, it was saying something that he was at loose ends. But there it was.

It had been like this ever since Thomas had moved into Margo’s place. It seemed he was trying to set new records for how many times a cat shifter could claim his mate without coming up for air. And Mac? He’d made a sudden decision to go on one of his I-live-for-eternity-and-I’m-so-alone walkabouts to God knew where before he had to deal with the repercussions of his decision.

The film. He still couldn’t believe Mac had agreed to do it. It was his gift to Thomas and Margo, he knew. But Saint had to wonder about the fallout for Mac with the elder vampires. No one loved to keep a secret more than an old, thin-skinned blood sucker.

Saint sighed. Putting off Margo’s boss, the conniving Darcy Finch, and the producers who wanted to start filming Shifting Reality: The Movie had been easy. He was good at manipulating people. Especially greedy people. But without any new distractions, he was having a harder time restraining his dark side, the part that was restless. The part that wanted to create the kind of havoc his human mother had spent her short, harried life trying to keep him from.

He walked to the windows, looking down at the city below. Hollywood. A demon could get into an endless amount of mischief in this town. Even a half demon. A man with his talents could own it all.

But then, that sounded boring too. He chuckled. His desires didn’t lean toward consumption, just the occasional chaos. It was a craving usually satisfied by the RPG game he’d created, Demon Saint. Thousands of minds connecting him to what it meant to be human, even as they chose avatars that were anything but. His creation had taken on a life of its own, but it was a life he had total access to, and total control over. It was where he got to play.

If only it were still enough.

He should go search out Mac and find a way to fuck with him, the same way he’d messed with Thomas. Of course, it might turn out the same way too, with Mac finding a woman to do more than nibble on. Then neither of them would have any time for their roommate. And there would be no one to keep Saint out of the dark.

Despite that possibility, Saint wasn’t sorry. Not that he’d gotten Thomas hooked on vlogging, not that his roommate had decided to tell the world about himself, about shifters and vampires and demons through the online weblog, Shifting Reality. Damn fools thought it was a show. An act. The same way they thought his game was just a game, instead of a piece of him.

His own global therapy session. That fact tickled him to no end.

His online world was, for the most part, a recreation of one of the darker times of his life, when he was flung from his normal existence and tossed into a testing ground where time and space kept changing, and only sin remained. Demon trials. He supposed it was an evil version of finishing school. And it had not been pleasant. Luckily the humans couldn’t seem to get enough. And through their experiences, he’d made a modicum of peace with it as well…with a little help.

If he hadn’t come across Mac, how long had it been, a hundred years ago?—then he may have been lost to temptation. It was Mac who showed him he didn’t have to fall prey to either side of his family tree. He had a choice. He could take his own path.

And then, much later, Thomas had come along and the two roommates had given Saint a feeling of family he’d never had before. He owed them. Which was why he’d helped Thomas with Margo. She was one classy number, perfect for his cat-shifting friend.

Hell, between the three of their sorry, supernatural asses, one of them deserved to be loved. The errant thought made him gag. He wasn’t a romantic. He was the devil’s imp. He needed to do something bad to make himself feel better.

He heard the floor creak and smiled. An opportunity. “For a wolf you’re acting a lot like a nervous Chihuahua, Liam. I was wondering if you were going to chase your tail in the lobby all night.”

When no quick response was forthcoming, Saint turned around and grimaced. Liam wasn’t holding up that well. “I heard it was worse for canine shifters, but I had no idea. You’ve got it bad, don’t you, puppy?”

Liam bared his teeth, but Saint knew it was more frustration than threat. He could sense the repressed desires inside him. And he knew exactly what the shifter wanted.

Julie Wu.

She’d been a contestant on Shifting Reality’s big finale, brought to the castle in Scotland to meet the “cast” along with Margo and a few other fanatical humans. Liam had agreed to play cameraman, but as soon as he’d seen the petite Asian beauty he’d been worthless. Apparently he still was.

Liam nodded, his jaw clenching. “I need your brand of help, Saint.”

Saint raised an eyebrow, inwardly baffled. “My brand of help? Why don’t you sniff her out with your super snout? Or look in Thomas’s computer. He has all the personal info and addresses of the contestants. Better yet—” he smirked, “—read one of her dirty books. That might give you a little insight into how to sweep gun-shy Julie off her feet.”

Liam started to pace—his large, muscled body rippling with repressed power. “I can’t. She’s so fucking small, so fragile, and I don’t trust myself. I just need to know where she is right now, if she’s okay. What, or if, she thinks about me. Please, Saint. You did it for Thomas. And I’ll owe you one.”

Saint sighed. “Matchmaking? Well, it is something to do. Not the something I wanted of course. And you will owe me. I’m not a damned Cupid. Those morons act like they have velvet-tipped arrows up their tutus.”

Even as he said it he reached into the pocket of his jacket for the Blackberry, his fingers caressing the screen and connecting. This was his gift. All demons could read inner desires, and there were a few species he could sense that traveled the spidery trail the way he did, but he liked to think no one did it better.

He could connect to any technology, move through the numbers and codes and find whatever and whomever he wanted in a heartbeat. The rush of it was exhilarating. When he was connected, there was nothing he couldn’t do.

“She’s in San Francisco. She purchased groceries about an hour ago, her cell GPS had her on the move, not toward home, somewhere else.” Saint chuckled. “On a side note, if her recent online purchases are anything to go by, you’ll have your hands full when you finally do get up the nerve to find her.”