Page 92 of Stone Cold Touch

“Layla?” he queried softly.

Something else occurred to me then. Zayne would lock me in a room to keep me safe if he thought there was even a hint of danger in the air. Roth...yeah, he’d tried to get me out of the way, but he wouldn’t shelter me. He would...he would just let me be.

“Okay,” I said finally. “I’ll be here.”

“Good.” He smiled and then disappeared back into the crowd.

I swiveled around, frowning as I told myself I totally had this. I was cool. Totally cool.

I fidgeted with the edge of the bar, keeping my eyes down. I doubted making eye contact with anything in this bar would be a smart idea. If there were succubi in here, what else could there be? I thought of the handsome demon in the corner playing cards.

Was the demon a dealmaker—a special kind of Duke that could be summoned from Hell to make deals? Back in the day, they were commonplace topside from what I knew, but just like other dangerous demons, they’d been banished to Hell by the Alphas.

God, if the Wardens knew that this place existed, they’d have a field day down here.

“She says I need a better job. That if I can’t pay my own bills, then how can I pay hers?” said a man a few seats down from me. He was dressed in a drab gray suit. It looked like a knockoff you could buy at an outlet. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t lose her.”

My gaze shifted to the bartender, and my mouth dropped open. It was Cayman! He glanced at me and winked as he topped off the man’s glass from a clear bottle. His ice-blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and he wore a black dress shirt that was rolled up to the elbows.

So on top of being an infernal ruler and Roth’s wingman, Cayman was apparently also a bartender.

Odd.

He set the bottle down between them and leaned his hip against the counter. “Women are such trouble, Ricky. That’s why I prefer a good, honest man.”

That he liked men wasn’t news to me, but I seriously doubted he preferred agood,honestman.

Ricky ran the back of his hand over his forehead, blinking. “You’d change your mind if you met Angela. She’s an angel, as angelic as her name. I love her.”

“An angel that wants you to pay her bills?” The gleam in his honey-colored eyes brightened. “Doesn’t sound like a heavenly creature to me.”

“She’s so beautiful. Heaven ain’t got nothing on her.” Ricky lowered his head to his hands, and, for a moment, I thought the dude would start crying. “She won’t return any of my phone calls or emails. Not until I can prove I’m financially stable.”

Cayman sighed. “What would you do for this gold-digging angel of yours?”

Ricky’s head lifted, his eyes wide and sort of glazed over. He was drunk. “I’d do anything.”

“Anything?” asked the demon. He leaned forward, eyes latched on to the mortal’s.

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach.

“Anything,” Ricky agreed vehemently.

“What do you think you need for this wonderful specimen of womanhood to stay with you?”

“Money,” answered Ricky. “I need to win the lottery.”

Cayman grinned wolfishly, topping off the man’s drink again. “Then one more drink for good luck, my friend.” He raised the bottle up.

My stomach sank even further.

Ricky tapped his glass off the bottle, then downed the glass. He slammed it down and the glass shone an unholy red for a brief second. A deal had just been struck.

Love in exchange for a soul.

Ricky stumbled from the bar after a few minutes, and I hoped he didn’t accidentally get on the wrong elevator or something. I turned an expectant look on Cayman.

He laughed as he made his way over to me. “Care to share your worries?” he asked smoothly.

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