The Last Temptations of Iago Wick by Jennifer Rainey

Author:Jennifer Rainey [Rainey, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-02-19T00:00:00+00:00

VIII.

Shortly after Iago had first arrived on Earth, he became tangled—literally and figuratively—in a fiery woman by the name of Heloise, who was very fond of binding her lovers. A splendid project was Heloise, a deliciously foul-minded human who truly appreciated every turn their sordid relationship took. She was terribly proud of her demon lover. She kissed him like a harlot but walked alongside him like a queen.

It was commonplace for Iago to find himself tied to the bed she usually shared with her husband, a prominent and dim-witted man who hadn’t the faintest inkling of her escapades. She was a firm but affectionate mistress. By the time her demon was through with her, Heloise’s life was a great sinful mess. Damnation was secured, and Iago was utterly satiated.

In a grand and sumptuous bedroom, Iago woke to the realization that he was, once again, tied up. He recognized the room from his earlier investigation of the home. Coarse rope bound his wrists to the arms of a plush chair that might have been quite comfortable had he not been affixed to it. Extra rope tied his ankles to the chair legs. His mind ached hideously.

Iago focused his gaze. There was a large bed complete with swooping canopy and a dozen pillows. The fireplace in the center of the far wall was flanked by two enormous paintings of members of the Ackle family whose heavy brows and frowns indicated they were so important that a lighter demeanor not only couldn’t be afforded, but would have been downright insulting to the gravity of their positions.

And in front of Iago was a man, also frowning, in a ratty blue suit. He had half a dozen crosses around his neck. A cigar hung from his mouth, and he chewed on it like a cow on its cud. Iago took note of his left eye, which was a strange and filmy marble lodged in braces of gold and tanned leather. A couple of lenses on tiny mechanical arms protruded from the device, providing, he assumed, the same effect as monocles of varying strengths. The eye rolled about quite unnervingly, as though it not only had a mind of its own, but a bulleted agenda of everywhere it wanted to look.

To his right, the Conjures stood side by side, looking upon him with even blanker stares than usual. Abraham Pauley was similarly tied up, squirming and proclaiming through a mouthful of rags that he had business to tend to. A scrawny man in a hide vest gripped his shoulder. Who in their right mind, Iago wondered, would wear a hide vest to a séance?

“Well,” Iago managed, “judging by the ropes around my wrists and your bizarre and unfashionable apparel, I’ll venture a guess. I’ve encountered a duo of demon hunters, haven’t I?”

The one with the false eye did not answer but continued to chew on his cigar. It didn’t even appear to be burning anymore, and still, he gnawed incessantly.

“Charming,” Iago muttered.

“You’re right,” said the man to the right, nervously flicking a pistol about.

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