Abby Angel doesn’t always enjoy her job, but she excels at it. Deporting unruly demons back to Hell is her specialty. Her personal life, on the other hand, could use a little work. The virtuous gene seems to be missing in this particular Angel, getting Abby into more trouble than she likes to admit. To date, her biggest vice has been Siméon Keller, a half-demon/half-human, who effortlessly managed to seduce Abby five years ago. She’s avoided him ever since but can’t seem to knock the bad reputation the blunder has branded on her.

Now the threat of a demon rebellion has Angels, Inc. overwhelmed and Abby must trust Siméon to help her find the fiends threatening to destroy Earth’s only salvation. Staying out of Siméon’s bed is the least of her worries as she fights for the lives of all Angels and humans everywhere.

“Have a seat, Abigail.” His crisp silver eyes flickered over my body briefly as he stood.

Suddenly I became acutely aware of what I was wearing as I dropped down into one of the leather chairs. I hadn’t dressed up for the occasion but it was somewhat nicer than my usual. Instead of a t-shirt or sweatshirt, I wore a forest green fitted v-neck sweater and replacing my faded jeans was a pair of dark stretch jeans. And, naturally, I had on my Nike running shoes. I was going to work soon, after all. Who was I trying to impress anyway?

He followed my lead and sat back down. It gave me the chance to assess his duds. Charcoal leather pants and a ribbed white sweater that clung to his lean muscles. Yep, more alluring than any full demon I’d ever laid eyes on.

“It’s good to see you again.” His voice was as smooth and pleasing as I remembered. “It’s been too long but I’m afraid I’m confused by the nature of your visit. I don’t believe I’ve done anything lately to require your presence.” He grinned toward the last part. Red, soft, powerful lips.

“No,” I blurted out. “I mean, that’s not why I’m here.” I leaned toward his desk and noticed his eyes dip to my chest. I should’ve worn a t-shirt. An extra large one.

Slowly, deliberately, he met my eyes again. “Why then?”

I could feel my entire body heat up. I probably looked like a big red freak of nature.

Get a hold of yourself, Abby. He was evil. A demon. Not worth the provocative thoughts dancing through my mind.

“I’m looking for someone you used to employ. His name is Peter Piper and last night he escaped a second warning.”

“And?”

“And I hoped you’d be able to give me some information about him.”

He cocked his head, braced his hands on the desk and bowed toward me to look at my bruised cheek. It couldn’t have been too noticeable. With MOG’s medicine and my healing power, it should be mostly gone.

“Did this Peter Piper hit you, Abigail?” He went on to examine the rest of my face and down farther.

“No,” I said, thankful there was a large piece of furniture between us. Afraid I’d be in his lap right then if there wasn’t. “No, he didn’t touch me.” His buddy did but Siméon didn’t need to know that.

He sat back down. “What happened to you then?”

“I fell.” I was such a bad liar. Judd was right.

Siméon smiled, showing me a perfect set of teeth and a dimple on his left cheek. “Aren’t Angels bred to be honest and noble?”

“I am those things.” Most of the time.

“Really?” He tsked. “That’s disappointing to hear. I thought you were different.”

I didn’t ask what gave him that idea. I already knew. I also knew the half-breed sitting before me was the devil in disguise and was being very good at avoiding my purpose for coming here.

“Peter Piper. Would you mind?” I pointed to his computer monitor. “Unless you know him personally. I’ll take any information you can give me.”

Truth was Siméon didn’t have to share any of his knowledge with me. Angels didn’t have the authority to force a presumably innocent demon to do anything they didn’t want to. When male Angels had worked on the streets, they’d blatantly ignored that rule. Just another reason why they were forced to work behind a desk. Me, however, I wasn’t as aggressive.

Siméon pressed a few buttons on his keyboard and then stood again. I could hear his printer zipping out papers from a separate table in the corner. He collected them and then came to sit by me. I scooted back in my seat and crossed my legs and my ankles. It wasn’t going to happen again. You could only call something a mistake if it happened once. Two times and I’d be validating what every Angel at Demon Control thought about me. Forget that.

“Here’s what I have on him,” he said. “I like to keep a detailed file on whoever I work with.” He sifted through the stack of papers in his hands, scanning down each page. There must have been at least a dozen pages of type. But I resisted leaning in and trying to make out the print. If that was his goal then he failed.

Several minutes passed before Siméon looked up from his reading. He gave me a warm grin and plunked the pile of papers on his desk. It was sorely obvious he was teasing me and it irritated me to no end.

“Well?” I asked, grinning back, hiding my annoyance. “Are those for me?”

“I’d love to know more about how you were hurt.”

“Going to keep a file on me too?”

“Will I be working with you?” His eyes did a quick scan of my body.

I thought maybe he was kidding but his expression showed no signs of it. “No,” I said. “I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I get what I came for. Now, can I have that file?”

Not waiting for an answer, I reached for his desk where the papers sat. But he blocked my path by leaning toward me. Just as quickly, he slid his hand to the outside of my thigh. His caressing touch was warm even through the denim of my jeans.

“That doesn’t seem fair,” he said. “If I give you something what do I get in return?”

I thought I stopped breathing then. He was too close. I avoided eye contact in case he really did have some sort of mystical control over me. But it was becoming sadly obvious his pull on me was the fault of my own weakness. I was attracted to him.

Evil or not, I craved his touch, his taste, his body.