Soul Surrender by Katana Collins Page A

miles away.
    I nudged him with an elbow, and he shifted his eyes to me without moving his head. Offering him a little smile, I squeezed his hand.
    He grunted before turning his attention back to the stage. But not before the lines at the corners of his eyes softened slightly. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.
    The show passed in a seamless array of glitz and glamour. Literally glamour—considering Buckley was using his glamour magic to look like an entirely different person: the made-up twin brother of his biological son who had died in Salt Lake City.
    The audience was entranced by his performance and the way he wove together his legitimate magic with his flair for showmanship. Each trick escalated into something bigger and bigger until the audience was in an uproar, on their feet, clapping and shouting for more.
    The “angels,” as he called them, danced around the stage. A demon’s job on Earth was quite different from a succubus in actuality. Demons had pretty simple paper-pushing gigs. They were in charge of getting humans to sign their souls over to Hell before death in exchange for material things.
    I mean, sure . . . my job was bad. Taking part of a human’s life and slowly corrupting them. But to condemn a soul to Hell for eternity? That was way worse. I examined the women onstage. Their talent was limited and consisted of simply walking around the stage in their flimsy costumes. The brunette was the curviest. Her smile was blindingly bright and yet, behind her eyes, there was barely a dull light. What could have happened to them that they’d lost their humanity so quickly? It had been a little less than three centuries since I was an angel—and yet I still felt that tug of conscience each time I had to take a life.
    â€œFor my final trick”—Buckley’s voice boomed through the theatre—“I will need a volunteer!” He levitated off the stage and floated into the aisle. Hands shot in the air, a tribute to how well he could fool people. Or perhaps a tribute to what fools people can be.
    The beam of light followed him as he floated up and down the aisle, finally slowing in front of our row. The entire aisle of my people hissed, glaring up at him as his eyes fell onto me. They seared through to my soul. A pop sounded through the air and another spotlight flashed on—directed right at me.
    â€œYou’ve got to be fucking kidding me, right?”
    His smile twitched, but he didn’t dare break character. “I’m sensing reluctance.” He spun to the rest of the audience. “Let’s give this beautiful young woman a warm welcome, huh?”
    The crowd exploded into clapping. When I looked back to the “angels” onstage, their smiles were sadistic and twisted into a look that should have been terrifying to anyone not glitzed by their fancy clothes and stage charisma.
    My teeth gnashed into each other. “I don’t have a choice here, do I, Raul? ” I grumbled under my breath.
    His eyes sparkled, and even though he was glamoured as Raul, for a flash I could see the Buckley that I knew and hated behind the mask. I braced my hands on the armrests and moved to stand.
    Lucien’s arm darted out, and before I could lift up he was on his feet, sliding out into the aisle. “Not a chance,” he grumbled.
    Buckley actually looked taken aback for all of a moment before he gained his composure once again. “I was actually talking to the lady, here.” He gestured at me once more, sliding a greasy smile in my direction.
    â€œWell, ‘the lady’ won’t be going onstage tonight.” Lucien folded his arms across a very broad chest, which puffed out even more with his inhalation. “It’s me or no one.”
    â€œLucien.” I touched his elbow, and his gaze snapped down to me. “It’s okay. I don’t mi—”
    â€œIt’s either me or no one from my group,” he