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Raze wasn’t just doing a job for a paycheck. Clearly, he enjoyed helping others. And just as clearly, Slake thought sourly, Raze had never been in the real world. Anyone who’d seen as much as Slake had lost their sense of empathy.
    Raze fiddled with a dial on a machine next to the female’s bed and then peeled off his gloves as he exited the cubicle. He waved at someone down the hall, but the moment he saw Slake, he came to an abrupt halt.
    “What the fuck are you doing here?” he growled. The grumpy ass.
    “A bouncer at Thirst told me you were working here today,” Slake said, leaving out the part where he’d had to threaten the bouncer with the loss of vital organs if he didn’t cooperate. His threats had probably gotten him banned from Thirst, but whatever. They’d worked. “You have two jobs?”
    Raze shrugged, one powerful shoulder rolling under green scrubs embroidered with the Underworld General caduceus symbol, a blade with stylized bat wings circled by two serpents. “I started here a while back, but I work part-time at Thirst. A few of us do both.”
    A stunning dark-haired demon with arm markings similar to Raze’s exited the Harrowgate, the name Eidolon stitched onto his white lab coat. Almost simultaneously, another impossibly handsome demon with matching tats came through sliding doors that appeared to lead to an underground parking lot. Although the newest guy wore jeans and a black Star Wars T-shirt, he strode through the place like he owned it, whistling to the tune of Johnny Cash’s “Ghost Riders in the Sky,” his shoulder-length blond hair brushing against the glyphs on his throat as he walked.
    “Damn, there are a lot of you here,” Slake said, unable to hide the appreciation in his voice. “Which begs the question . . . what are you?”
    The blond newcomer slowed, smiled wide enough to reveal fangs, and slapped Raze on the back. “We’re Sems.”
    “What?”
    “Seminus demons,” he said. “Incubi. We’re kind of awesome.”
    Raze wheeled away to toss his gloves in the trash. “Thanks, Wraith,” he said flatly. “You’re always so helpful.”
    Slake looked between Wraith and Raze. “You’re sex demons?” The reason for their model-handsome good looks suddenly made a lot of sense, and so did Slake’s intense attraction to Raze.
    “Yup. Cool, huh?” Wraith gestured to the Seminus demon with the short dark hair. “That’s my bro. Raze is related to us somewhere down the arm.”
    Slake blinked. “Somewhere down the . . . arm?”
    “It’s really not important,” Raze muttered, but Wraith shouldered him out of the way and gestured to the sleeve of tats that began on his right hand and extended all the way to his neck, just like Raze’s did.
    “It’s called a dermoire . The glyphs are a paternal history, and we each have our own symbol.” Wraith fingered the hourglass symbol just below his jaw at the top of his dermoire . “This one is mine. The one below it is my father’s. The one below that is my grandfather’s. Keeps going. See, this skull glyph belongs to my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, who happens to be Raze’s great-great-great-grandfather.”
    Slake eyed the two braided tribal rings around Wraith’s neck. “Why do you have a glyph around your neck, but Raze doesn’t?”
    Wraith grinned. “Means I’m mated.”
    “So there are females of your species?”
    “Nope. We reproduce with the females of other species, but our offspring are always purebred Seminus males.”
    Huh. Slake glanced over at Raze, who seemed extremely engrossed in opening a box of surgical masks. From this angle, Slake couldn’t see Raze’s personal symbol, but now he wanted to know what it was.
    “And you guys are sex demons,” he mused. Wasn’t that curious. He’d never heard of sex demons that went for their same gender, but he knew damned well he hadn’t read Raze’s signals wrong. He certainly hadn’t read the kiss wrong. “So . . . you do males