The days blurred as we traveled from one club to the next, feeding on the kama in the atmosphere. True to her word, we didn’t screw a single person—but as the days went by, I was itching to. We were still very much in transition, and while she seemed to be able to control it, the brief moments I had peeked through only resulted in…small catastrophes…or miracles. It really depended on how you looked at it.

Eugene McGee was the only demon whose soul I healed, but he was far from the only odd case of magical output. On the first night in the Lotus, she ended up so high that I slipped in momentarily and ended up turning Bandit’s hair blue. Not that he seemed to mind being ringed in black and blue. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he thought he looked rather stylish. He certainly seemed to be flaunting himself more, but that may just have been the steady diet of fresh fish Eugene was bringing him. The rubrum seemed to feel that he owed me a life debt, and no request the beast made, no matter how outlandish, swayed him to thinking otherwise. He’d decided our well-being was of the utmost importance, and while I could almost find it sweet at times—the hero worship didn’t sit well with me. Not to mention how the Horsemen would react when they did catch up.

Red lights pulsed through the club, lighting up the stage and casting the strippers in a dark glow. The Devil’s Dancers was packed tonight, filled with naked demons of both sexes, catering to all tastes. The kama that the audience was putting off was keeping us fed and alert. Her body tingled against the colored particles that pressed against her skin, slowly slipping beneath it. It kept us calm, but the need for sex was beginning to heighten, and the beast wasn’t happy the Horsemen hadn’t gotten their shit together yet. I mean, how hard could it be for them to find a blue-haired she-demon dressed in a stripper’s get-up? In New Orleans? The answer was it was like finding a needle in a haystack.

She leaned back, crossing her legs where the thigh-highs stopped. She’d asked Eugene to bring her clothes at some point and he came back with an itty bitty dress, complete with thigh-highs and hooker heals. While it garnered more attention than necessary, it also made it easy to get into the demon clubs he brought us to. Everyone was dressed kind of sleazy and it was often difficult to distinguish the strippers from the guests.

The beast looked on, ignoring the sweltering fever that made her body slick with sweat. Her skin clung to the vinyl chair, uncomfortably so. Not that anyone could tell when they saw her. Where the heat had driven me to violent extremes, she was able to take it all in stride.

Her stare was unflinching as she examined the crowd before her. Demons were fickle creatures. One moment they could be partaking in an orgy without a care as to who watched them. The next they could be ripping each other’s throats out while still balls deep in one another. It was a gut-wrenching sight, filled with savageness and primal instinct. Humans called us evil. I could see where that notion came from. We were not of this world. Me. The beast. Any demon or Fae. We didn’t come from here.

We didn’t belong here.

That was a thought that seemed to be running through my head more and more as of late. Maybe it was because of the fire in my veins, or the quite literal desire to start burning shit. Maybe it was because I was beginning to harden further to the world, sinking deeper into the monster I was becoming. Or maybe the more I looked, the more savageness appealed to me in a way that human conventions never did.

While I’d run from the demons on earth before, I was never really normal. I never blended perfectly with the humans. The slew of stalker exes and my mile-long rap sheet were proof of that. I was only ever biding time.

Similar to how the beast was now.

“I’m not biding my time,” she grumbled. Her moods were already crappy enough. This game wasn’t making them better.

“You’re waiting for the Horsemen to find us,” I snorted.

She grimaced outwardly while Bandit stretched out on her lap. He wore a tiny cone-shaped party hat attached by a stretchy string. Where he got it, neither of us knew, only that he insisted on wearing it.

“I’m letting them learn an important lesson,” she replied. I suppose that was one way to look at it. “One that you agreed with,” she continued.

Now it was my turn to grumble inwardly. That put a smirk on her lips.

“Yes…no…I don’t know. You haven’t exactly put us in an easy situation and it’s not like we’re doing much.” I muttered the last bit. Not like that kept it from her. She knew every thought and feeling I had, as much as I knew hers in return. So when the strange combination of humor and annoyance swirled in her chest, I found myself dreading what would come next.

“You’re bored,” she said pointedly.

No. Maybe…I tried to squelch down any reaction and it only served to intensify her emotions more.

“I was pissed at them in the beginning, but I got over it,” I started, mentally fumbling when I could feel her growing agitation. The truth was that I was mad. Now I wasn’t, and we were in a city crawling with demons, with no back-up if and when shit went sideways—apart from Bandit. While my raccoon was awesome…he wasn’t from Hell. He didn’t have powers. He just knew how to bite the shit out of someone while I started burning things up.

“You’re being emotional about this,” she replied coldly.

Emotional? The beast wanted to talk to me about being emotional?

“Says the person who is running all over the city in some fucked up game of hide-and-seek because they got a bit controlling after we threw Laran through a wall,” I quipped back at her. She seemed to consider this for a moment, slowly stroking her fingers through Bandit’s thick fur while watching an orgy taking place in front of us.

“You agreed,” she settled on eventually. I sighed, wanting to shake my head at her, but I wasn’t in control.

“Yes, and I don’t regret that. I’m just saying we could be doing more than sitting around and waiting to get abducted…again.”

The beast snorted. Yup. Actually snorted. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t known with absolute certainty. Just like that, her anger was gone, replaced by mild amusement and weary agreement.

She arched forward, and a smacking sound filled the air as the vinyl that had been sticking to her back released. Sweat clung to her skin like a layer of clothing, insulating the heat within. The burning was beginning to get out of control, but the beast hadn’t cracked. She wouldn’t. While the sweat may be annoying, she was a creature of the flames confined by a mortal body. Soon to be more. The heat within didn’t just come from her. It was her.

So, suffer I would, and I counted my lucky stars she was taking the brunt of it instead of me.

She hauled herself out of the armchair, waving down Eugene with a single look. He caught her watchful eye and nodded, pushing his way through the orgy to come to her.

“Ruby, what is it?” he asked, a slight frown forming.

He’d been nothing but attentive to her every demand since we’d healed his soul. I wonder if he realized exactly who he was dealing with, or if he just didn’t care. I was leaning towards ignorance given the lack of fear, but that could just be because she saved him, and he thinks he’s safe.

No one was safe. Not unless you wore her brand.

“I’m bored. Find me somewhere more interesting.”

To Eugene’s credit, he kept his face neutral and didn’t balk at the unreasonableness behind her request. We both knew why she was bored.

She didn’t want to be in a dingy bar watching other demons fuck.

She wanted to be fucking our mates. Of course, getting her to admit that was like getting Bandit to eat brussels sprouts. Not fucking happening.

“There’s a—”

A scream rang through the air, cutting him off. Her muscles tensed. That wasn’t just any scream. It was a banshee’s scream.

Adrenaline surged within her as she searched for the source. Bodies pressed in around her. Their slick skin brushing against hers as she pushed her way through the crowd, quickly growing impatient. While most people possessed a sense of fight or flight, the beast only contained one mode and limited emotions, extreme as they might be.

She elbowed a male demon in the stomach that stepped too close for our liking, letting out a threatening snarl. Another bout of screams erupted to her right. Her head whipped around, and her muscles trembled as she took in the scene before her.

The banshee wasn’t Moira. Thankfully.

They all might have died if it was.

While she shared her scream and dark green locks, their faces looked nothing alike. Moira burned like the fire inside me. This she-demon was completely and utterly terrified of the two males that had her trapped. Blood leaked from both their ears, dripping down their shoulders. Despite the damage she’d inflicted on them, one stood at her back, using his arms to cage her while he painfully squeezed her bare breasts. The other stood in front, flush against her body, playing with something between them…

Thick and dangerous, rage wrapped around our chest when we saw the shredded panties in his hand.

The banshee let out a raspy scream. Her voice broke as the demons around us watched with lust in their eyes. She writhed in their arms, throwing her head back in an attempt to smash her attacker’s nose. He dodged last second, leaning forward to bite her neck in warning.

The beast didn’t hesitate where all other demons did. She walked forward with vengeance in her eyes and fire at her command.

“Help me!” the girl cried, meeting our eyes over his shoulder. Up close, the tears running down her face were making an awful mess of her make-up, but without all the gunk on her face, she looked young.

The beast’s face remained impassive as she reached out, wrapping a burning hand around the male’s shoulder. He let out a roar, throwing his weight back in an attempt to break her grip. She wasn’t having any of it.

The beast turned her finger’s claw-like, digging into his leather skin. He groaned in pain as she shredded through the muscle and tendons, crushing him straight to the bone.

“You like to gang rape unprotected demons?” she asked him. At some point the club had quieted so only labored breathing and “Sweet Dreams” could be heard. “Because I like to hurt those that deserve it.” She wrenched him down to eye level using the unnatural strength I never could get under control. “Do you deserve it?”

He gave a grunt of pain and black spikes popped out of his skin. Chupacabra.

“Listen, bitch, I don’t know what—”

She slapped him so hard his neck cracked.

“Wrong answer.”

That blow would have killed a human, but instead it left his head hanging at an odd angle as his body rapidly tried to heal itself. She threw him ten feet, his back snapping as he hit the stage at a bad angle. One of his spikes shot from his skin, aiming for her chest. She caught it in one hand and turned, slamming it into the remaining rapist’s shoulder. His arms convulsed around the small banshee as the poison instantly started to spread.

“You…you…” His words faded as his veins turned black beneath his paper white skin. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he stumbled, his legs now struggling to hold him. The young banshee looked between us, unsure if she had traded one danger for another.

The beast turned her eyes back on the chupacabra. His pain turned to rage as he looked away from his friend’s steadily weakening form and back to the beast.

He didn’t use words before he came at her, moving faster than she expected with his body broken. Still, that didn’t stop her. He swiped an arm in her direction—letting loose three spikes. She acted without hesitation, summoning a wall of hellfire to extinguish the poisonous spikes before they could touch her.

That was when the screaming started. Not from the banshee beside her, but the monsters standing on the sidelines. Not many things could kill a demon flat out, but the flames of Hell were one of them.

Quickly tiring of the games, she strode forward through the fire, relishing how it licked at her skin. The chupacabra didn’t run. He didn’t fight. He simply watched the fire behind her, knowing that if she wished him dead, there was nothing he could do to stop her.

“Who are you?” he whispered, swallowing hard as she approached him. She grasped his naked cock as it hung limp between his thighs like a broken toy.

“Evil’s executioner.”

There was a wicked glint in her eye as she castrated him by fire. He was curled into a ball of agony when she moved onto the demon lying comatose from the poisonous spike she had impaled him with. He didn’t even have time to beg before his appendage was removed by flame.

And then it was finished. Well, Bandit ran up and pissed on him for good measure, but the damage was done.

All she was left with was the wide-eyed she-demon she’d saved, Eugene McGee’s troubled expression, and a roomful of demons that fell to their knees. They were bowing…to their queen.

The banshee blinked twice before dropping onto her knees. This didn’t sit right with me, but the beast didn’t seem to care. At the very least, they were showing the respect she felt she deserved.

Selfish cunt.

Of course, before she could say anything to the lot of them, two very familiar faces stepped out of the shadows.

Rysten…and Julian.

They’d come for her. For us.

Finally.

Unfortunately, this little turn of events had her blood pumping. The beast rather liked taking a more proactive role in getting scumbags off the street. Doling out punishments as she saw fit. If they had come not ten minutes earlier, she might have gone.

But now… now she had plans. Ideas.

If the Horsemen couldn’t catch her, she had every intention of following them through. She let out a whistle and Bandit scurried across the stone floor, leaping halfway up her body and climbing the rest of the way. He perched on her shoulder, growling at them on principle. They weren’t Laran. This didn’t surprise me.

“Ruby,” Julian growled under his breath. The look he gave her…it made me shiver. If he caught her, there was no way he was letting her go. Over his dead body, and considering I was pretty sure he couldn’t die…

“Death,” the beast purred with the voice of a siren. The vein in his temple bulged as he took her in, skimpy dress and all.

“Come now, love. We’ve won the game. Time to go.” Rysten prowled in the shadows of the room, jumping from spot to spot, slowly getting closer to her. She threw her head back and let out a wicked laugh.

“You’ve found me, Pestilence, but you’ve yet to win.”

She turned to Eugene McGee and nodded once. He took two steps.

Rysten needed three.

But they were already gone, falling through the floor beneath them.