Wicked Whispers Read online

  Praise for

  Wicked Fantasy

  “If you need a good laugh, then grab this one… Engaging and fun, filled with surprise twists and turns around every corner. I truly look forward to finding out what trouble the cosmic troublemakers will cause next.”

  —The Eternal Night

  “A sensational read full of humor and romance. You’ll be burning through the pages while you follow… all the hijinx and scorching sex. Wicked Fantasy is a great read, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Nina Bangs has created a story with outrageous and hilarious characters and a romance that will make you wish for your own fantasy at the Castle. It goes on my bookshelf as a keeper. Enjoy!”

  —Night Owl Reviews

  Wicked Pleasure

  “Wicked fun from start to finish… [A] side-splitting, sexy tale that dazzles and delights.”

  —The Best Reviews

  “Another terrific Nina Bangs humorous action-packed paranormal romance… Readers will enjoy this wicked tale.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “A delightful comedy.”

  —The Eternal Night

  Wicked Nights

  “Paranormal romance filled with humor and sex… and with the right touch of suspense… Action-packed. Readers will enjoy this wicked tale and look forward to novels starring Eric’s siblings, a demon and an immortal warrior, that will surely sparkle with fun.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Intriguing.”

  —The Eternal Night

  … and the novels of

  Nina Bangs

  “Sinfully delicious.”

  —Christina Dodd

  “The key to Ms. Bangs’s clever… novels is the cast never does what the reader expects. [She] combines vampires, time travel, and… amusing romance that will lead the audience to read it in one enchanting bite.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Bangs puts a… darkly brooding hero together with a stubborn heroine; adds an amusing cast of secondary characters… and then mixes in several different paranormal elements and equal measures of passion and humor to create… [a] wonderfully creative, utterly unique romance.”

  —Booklist

  “A witty, charming, sexy read.”

  —Christine Feehan

  “Sensuous and funny… [A] true winner.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “A sizzling story… With steamy love scenes and touching characters, Ms. Bangs brings readers into her world and sends them away well satisfied with the power of love.”

  —Karen Steele

  “I know I can always count on Nina Bangs for an exceptional read! A pure stroke of genius.”

  —The Best Reviews

  Berkley Sensation titles by Nina Bangs

  WICKED NIGHTS

  WICKED PLEASURE

  WICKED FANTASY

  WICKED EDGE

  WICKED WHISPERS

  Anthologies

  MEN AT WORK

  (with Janelle Denison and MaryJanice Davidson)

  SURF’S UP

  (with Janelle Denison and MaryJanice Davidson)

  eSpecials

  “Color Me Wicked” from MEN AT WORK

  “Hot Summer Bites” from SURF’S UP

  Wicked Whispers

  Nina Bangs

  BERKLEY SENSATION, NEW YORK

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) • Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England • Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) • Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) • Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India • Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) • Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Copyright © 2012 by Nina Bangs.

  Cover illustration by Julia Kolesova.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  BERKLEY SENSATION® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / October 2012

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Bangs, Nina.

  Wicked whispers / Nina Bangs.—Berkley Sensation trade paperback ed.

  p. cm.

  ISBN: 978-1-101-61178-4

  1. Demonology—Fiction. 2. Fairies—Fiction. 3. Imaginary places—Fiction. 4. Imaginary wars and battles—Fiction. 5. Immortality—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3602.A636W55 2012 2012025601

  813’.6—dc22

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  ALWAYS LEARNING

  PEARSON

  To Dianne Byrd.

  Thanks for suggesting such a wonderful title.

  Love it!

  Table of Contents

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  Epilogue

  1

  The music pressed against the inside of his skull, a melodic migraine pounding out a deadly rhythm in his head. Murmur resisted the urge to just let go, to free his songs, to stop their ice-pick notes from jabbing at him. Pain-free seemed like a good place to be.

  He clenched his teeth against the agony. “I need to do a pressure release before my head explodes. I don’t think vacuuming up demon brains is part of the maid’s job description.” Even pacing this hotel room would work off some of the tension buzzing in his brain, but moving hurt too much, so he simply sat as still as he could in the chair facing Bain.

  “Control it. If not, they’ll kick you out of the castle, and I need your help.” Bain leaned back in his chair and watched his friend from hooded eyes.

  Murmur took a deep breath. “I never lose control. So to keep my record intact, I’ll have to take my show on the road. Where can I go to defuse?” The castle/hotel might specialize in fantasy role-playing, but Murmur didn’t think they were ready for what he’d deliver.

  Music was his power, but it was also his weakness. If he kept it captive for too long, the pain crippled him. And at some point it might even drive him crazy. What the world did not need was a mad music demon.


  Bain shrugged. “It’s late, so I’d try the beach. No one there to hear you. But if some of your music does creep back into the castle, no big deal. Remember, I saw you in action here a few weeks ago. You pissed me off with that compulsion you laid on everyone, but we all danced and had a good time. No harm.” He shrugged. “And sure, you were a little scary in the final showdown with Ted, but all demons ramp up the terror.” His grin promised he could take scary to a whole new level. “It’s what makes us beloved by all.”

  No harm because I stopped the dance in time. But I didn’t want to stop it. I wanted it to go on and on and on… Murmur knew his smile was bitter. He winced. Damn, even that small use of facial muscles upped the agony. “Don’t be an ass, Bain. You know what would happen if I lost control, so don’t act as if it’s nothing.” He stood and walked slowly to the door, each tortured step sending new vibrations rattling around inside his aching head.

  “Fine. Do your thing.” Bain’s tone said he still didn’t get it. He glanced at Murmur’s music system. “This is a pretty fancy setup for just a hotel stay. Maybe you should turn it on and relax with some mellow tunes instead of dragging yourself to the beach.”

  “I have a ‘fancy setup’ because I need the music.” He and the other demon had been friends for millennia, but that didn’t mean they knew squat about each other. Demons weren’t social creatures, and being friends simply meant they didn’t try to tear each other apart when they met. All right, so Bain and he were a little closer than that, but Bain had only experienced Murmur’s music on a small scale. He’d never really seen what happened when Murmur got serious.

  Bain heaved an exaggerated sigh and rose to follow him. “Then I’ll leave you to your midnight concert. I’m due for my last fantasy performance of the night in about ten minutes. Give a shout if you need me.” He paused before heading for the winding stairs leading down to the great hall. “And thanks for sticking around. I appreciate it.” Then he was gone.

  Coming from a demon, Bain’s words were the same as a big hug and a sloppy kiss from a human. Demons didn’t display emotions. Most of the time, they didn’t have any to display. Okay, so maybe there were occasional outbursts of rage leading to mass destruction. But that was about the limit to their softer feelings.

  Murmur took the elevator. No way would he survive the explosion of pain as each foot landed on those stone steps. From there he staggered out of the castle, his hands over his ears, trying to block all those human voices adding to the din in his head.

  He stumbled across Seawall Boulevard and down the steps leading to the beach. This was all Bain’s fault. The other demon had asked Murmur to help with some as-yet-to-be-explained plot. That had been a few weeks ago. Since then Murmur had been stuck on Galveston Island, unable to find a place far enough away from people to free his music.

  Sure, he could’ve abandoned Bain. But Bain was a friend. His only friend. And wasn’t it pathetic that Murmur actually cared? Not a positive demonic character trait. He’d have to shore up his I-don’t-give-a-damn wall of indifference.

  Right now, though, he needed to stop the pain. When he’d put some distance between himself and the Castle of Dark Dreams, he glanced around. Not far enough away from humanity to cut loose completely, but he could at least siphon off some of his music and relieve the agony for a while.

  A moonless night, but there was some light filtering down from the streetlights across the road. No one on the beach. That’s all he had to know. The pain was almost to the point of exploding from him. That would be a bad thing for everyone in Galveston and for him. He wasn’t ready to leave the castle yet.

  Drawing in a deep breath, he allowed his music to escape in a slow, controlled flow of sound. It mirrored his mood of the moment—dissatisfied, confused, and even a little sad. Murmur let the intertwined melodies build to a crescendo of angry frustration. Why the hell was he feeling these emotions now after so many thousands of years?

  He closed his eyes at the remembered bliss of times long past. Times when he released the fury of his songs on entire villages, watching as everyone within the sound of his music died screaming. Or, if he was in a more playful mood, they’d die dancing, unable to stop until their puny human hearts gave out.

  Murmur hadn’t done that in a long time. He wasn’t ready to examine the reason why.

  Ivy stepped onto the beach and wandered toward the waterline, where gentle waves lapped at the sand. The Gulf was quiet tonight. The lights from the street didn’t do much to help her see where she was going. Symbolic? Maybe. Because three days ago she’d made the first impulsive decision of her adult life.

  She’d taken a job at Live the Fantasy, an adult theme park where people could unpack their dreams of being more than they were, dust them off, and play the part for a half hour. Tomorrow she’d meet her boss for the first time. Ivy glanced back at the castle. Still time to run.

  Before she could begin to obsess about the insanity of accepting a job as the personal assistant to someone named Sparkle Stardust, she heard the music.

  It came from everywhere and nowhere. The melody wrapped around her, tendrils of compulsion that seeped into her soul and made her—she widened her eyes—want to dance.

  Ivy didn’t dance. Ever. She had no rhythm. But she was okay with that. Dancing didn’t further her life’s goal—a solid, well-paying job so she could build her own white picket fence around a home in suburbia. She’d never depend on a man to do her picket-fence building.

  But suddenly, for no apparent reason, she wanted to dance, had to dance. Without her permission, her feet began to move with the throbbing beat. Closing her eyes, she let it happen. If she really concentrated, she could almost hear words—of futility, frustration, need.

  Ivy realized she was dancing farther and farther away from the castle, but she didn’t seem to care. All that mattered was the music. Its bass pounded out an ever-more-frenetic message of anger and so much need that brought tears to her eyes. She swirled and leaped on waves of emotion, even as the Gulf’s waves curled around her ankles before retreating.

  The person she’d always been—logical, grounded in reality—screamed, “What the hell are you doing?” But nothing mattered. Everything she was floated away on the compulsive rhythm urging her to dance and dance and dance…

  And then she saw him. He stood in the darkness, waiting as she danced closer and closer. At first he was only a shadow among many shadows. But as she drew nearer she saw him more clearly. Tall, elegant, with broad shoulders and a body that she imagined would be powerful and lean-muscled beneath his black boots, black pants, and what looked like a black silk shirt, open at the throat. All that unrelieved black only served to lead her gaze upward to…

  Her heart was a frantic drumbeat, her breathing a harsh rasp in her throat, and it had nothing to do with exertion.

  His face. She gathered all of her willpower and forced her body to still while she studied him from only a few feet away, too close for safety.

  Shining blond hair fell in a smooth curtain to halfway down his back. He watched her from eyes framed by thick lashes. She couldn’t see the color of those eyes in the darkness. The angles and planes of his face cast shadows highlighting male beauty that seemed impossible, but obviously wasn’t. Her gaze drifted to his lips, full and so tempting that…

  He smiled. Ivy felt that smile as an ache that started in her chest but moved rapidly south. This was not good. She glanced away and tried to recapture her sanity along with her breath. “I wonder where that music is coming from.”

  He ignored her comment. “Dance with me.” His voice—husky, compelling, but with a harsh rasp of some emotion she couldn’t identify—hinted that unspeakable pleasures awaited anyone who danced with him.

  No. She didn’t dance with strangers she met on the beach. It absolutely wasn’t going to happen. “Sure.”

  And so they danced. Together. Touching. Not what she thought she’d ever enjoy, because with his arms around her she’d have to follow his lead
. Ivy knew from experience that she couldn’t match her steps with a partner, not in any aspect of her life. But she did.

  It was like floating. She swayed in time with her silent partner as he swept her into the dance. Everything seemed more intense, more… everything. The sand felt deliciously cool beneath her bare feet. When had she kicked off her shoes? The water sparkled. There was no moon, so how could it sparkle? When she tipped her head back to allow her hair to float in the sudden breeze, she saw a sky filled with millions of glittering stars. Not real, couldn’t be real. But the impossibility of all those stars didn’t bother her. Only the man and the dance mattered.

  He’d pulled her close, and she felt the realness of him as surely as if he wore nothing—the hard planes of his body, the pounding of his heart where her head rested against his chest. And when he cupped her bottom to tuck her between his thighs, she had proof that the dance was affecting him in the same way it was her.

  Desire clenched low in her stomach. Shock made her miss a step. She drew in a deep, calming breath and tried to recapture the magic of the dance. But she couldn’t. This wasn’t her. Ivy didn’t go around wanting to throw men to the ground and then ride them until a screaming orgasm shattered her. She pulled away, and it was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

  The music stopped. Ivy just stood there breathing hard. Exertion or hyperventilating? Didn’t matter, the result was the same. She felt lightheaded.

  “Thank you.” His words were cool, his tone distant. He turned and disappeared into the darkness.

  Ivy stood staring at the water that no longer sparkled. When her dizziness finally passed, she found her shoes, and then walked slowly back to the Castle of Dark Dreams. Aptly named, as it turned out. If anyone qualified as a dark dream, her unknown dance partner did.

  She felt strange, all shiny and new, younger. But that was impossible. Ivy was twenty-seven, and a brief dance with a stranger shouldn’t make her feel nineteen again. Go figure.

  She decided to wait until she got back to her room before thinking about what had just happened. There was always a logical explanation for everything. Except when there wasn’t. Ivy pressed her lips together. Of course there was an explanation. She just had to find it.