I overheard the conversation Sylver had with Val.
I’m sitting on the porch, watching her pace at the edge of the clearing the house is in. Sometimes she steps a little too far and winces from the pain. She’s not going to break the compulsion. Xeres’s compulsion magic is the strongest in all of Hell. There’s no way a weak half-demon like her can do anything.
Val—I’ve even given her a nickname. I shouldn’t. It causes too much intimacy, and intimacy makes one ineffective. I’m supposed to go scouting around for danger, in case Xeres slips up again and gets careless. He’s always like that, getting me do the dirty work, but it’s what I thrive on. Helping behind the scenes, making sure everything is in order. The Nightshade clan would fall apart without me.
And although I have better things to do, I’m drawn to the lavender-haired girl in front of me. She serves as the perfect distraction. I think she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but I don’t know why. Maybe she’s just really my type. I can’t stop thinking about the contract Sylver mentioned, and how nice it’d be to have her under my control.
Sylver dragged me into this. I had no plans of making a blood contract with her. That’s his idea and his alone. But I like him better for it. A contract makes it less emotional. More businesslike.
Sylver told me about the things he’d like to do to her. He did that when he was perched over my thighs, doing what he did best with his tongue.
Valerie has gotten all three of us riled, but she doesn’t know it. I haven’t talked about it to Xeres. I don’t talk to him much. But we care for each other, even though we don’t shout it from the rooftops. We did grow up protecting the same clan, after all.
It’s entertaining to watch her struggle. She kicks a pile of dust into the air and shouts curses at the forest while flipping it off. I laugh, before catching myself. I don’t laugh often.
She curses under her breath and tries one more time. Maybe I should stop her. She’s only hurting herself.
I decide I don’t really care to. It’s more fun to watch her squirm.
She’s got plump lips and full, round breasts—not obscenely large, but big enough to give her an hourglass figure. She’s on the thin side, with a small waist I want to wrap my hands around. I don’t particularly like my girls too thin, but she’s the exception. She knows she’s beautiful. She struts around with a confidence that only a self-aware girl would have.
I’m thinking of ways she could pleasure me as I watch. I could use her. I use people, like how I use Sylver. Zrako treated me like their tool, their weapon, for as long as I can remember. It’s hard to see my relationships in a different way—use or be used. That’s how it works in the three realms.
But if I’m not serving another’s purpose, it makes me uneasy. I enjoy seeing the clan succeed. Fuck Zrako and how he’s made me. He’s my adoptive father. My mentor. A memory I try to shake, because he was harsh with the way he treated me. He left me scouring the darker regions of Hell just to procure his items and rewarded me like I was a good dog. If I didn’t do his bidding, his punishment was dealt swiftly. I miss him. It’s fucked up that I do, but even though he often made my life hell, I long to see my mentor and father figure back. There was no other like him, with his imposing presence and larger-than-life personality, but the angels got him, using Xeres as hostage.
Xeres changed after that. He used to smile more.
We all did.
Val gives up eventually and paces back toward the house. When she’s a few feet away, I flash her a mocking grin. “Going somewhere?” I ask her. I should leave her alone and do my job, but I find myself longing to steal more moments with her.
“No, apparently,” she replies. She does this thing where she puckers her lips when in thought. I wonder what expression she’d make when I’m pressed on top of her and fucking her senseless.
“It’s boring around here, but we’ll be in Hell soon. There’s lots to see there. Volcanoes that spew lava constantly. Demons throw their peers in there all the time. Beasts hunted for game and spiked for display in the Nightshade courtyard—”
It feels like it’ll be a long time before we head back to Hell. The sun’s still high up. It’s only midday.
Val rests her hands on her hips—hips I want to trace my lips over. I’ll dig my fingers into them, using those hips as support as I bury my length into her. How does she sound when she moans?
“Sounds interesting,” she says dryly.
“And I could show you to my chambers.”
She tilts her chin up and snorts. “You’re despicable.”
“Oh?”
“First you appear out of nowhere like some creepy stalker—”
“Creepy stalker? You were looking at me all night in Club Sin. I wasn’t sure who was doing more of the ogling, me or you.” I pause, grinning. “On second thought, I’m pretty sure it’s you.”
She waves my comment away. “Then you break into my house, destroy it, kidnap me and my brother. Torture my brother. And now you’re hitting on me?”
“Bargaining with you.”
“What the hell is your problem?”
I have many. Living indefinitely takes a toll on the mind. But I’d rather have my head severed than admit any of that to this little wench.
Why am I so attracted to her, anyway? I like my women willing. It’s easier. There are plenty of them in Hell, ready to throw themselves at my feet. Curvier, more salacious, more fuck-able.
But Val’s got me riled up. She’s still more beautiful than the rest of them.
Maybe I’ve been looking for the chase and just didn’t know it. Or maybe it’s the way Sylver and Xeres also look at her. I like the challenge. It makes things more interesting.
I honestly don’t have the slightest clue.
“Whatever.” She sweeps her lavender hair from her face. I like how it complements her pale skin. Her earrings, too, add an edge to her that entices me. “I don’t care for your stupid bargain or contract or whatever. You can keep me close with your compulsion magic, but I don’t intend to make this easy.”
“Xeres could compel you to like him.”
Her eyes widen. “No.”
“What?”
“Just no. I’ll gut him if he tries.”
“I’d like to see you try and gut him.” I like her spunk, even if it’s coming from somewhere empty.
She sits beside me and props a leg up on a step. I lift a brow at her. Her sweet scent hits me when she comes close. I suppress a growl, pushing back the inner beast who longs to fuck Val, to claim her with my scent.
“So, what are we? Jared and I?” Val asks. “Demons? Humans? You guys didn’t have a good answer when Jared questioned you.”
“Truthfully? We’re not sure. Can’t say until your powers awaken. But we think you’re half-demon. You smell like one.” I study her features up close. They’re elegant yet dainty. And her eyes are huge. Her nose thin. But the hardness she carries doesn’t match the feminine quality she possesses.
“You think,” she says.
“We’re not sure yet. Unless your powers fully awaken, we can’t figure it out.”
“My static?”
“Static?”
Without warning, she reaches out and touches my arm. The demon in me flares, and I’m filled with images of her lips on mine. An uncomfortable spark on my forearm wakes me from my urges.
She lets go. “What is that?”
I blink, wondering where that need came from. “It’s probably dormant blackfyre. You know, this.” I summon my blackfyre and let it flicker in front of us. Her pink, succulent lips part as she watches my fire dance before her. I extinguish the flame. “It’s fire, but hotter, able to melt through steel like it’s butter, and you can summon it at will. It’s a demon ability. Once it awakens, you’ll be able to use it.”
“Like you do?”
I snort. “Not like I do. Xeres and Sylver, probably. All higher demons have gifts. We call demons with human forms ‘higher demons,’ while lesser demons come in all shapes, most grotesque. Some gifts are common, some aren’t. Xeres is gifted with compulsion, Sylver with his pheromones. Me, with my greater control of blackfyre. Most can phase—that thing you see with us moving around quickly—and many can form illusions. Most also have blackfyre, but I’m the only one who can make it do awesome things.” I wink. I’m boasting a little, but it’s fun.
“So that’s two you have? Phasing and blackfyre?” Curiosity flares in her eyes.
“And a little control over illusions. There’s no limit on the number of gifts a demon can have. Technically, you can be blessed with all of them, but the only person I’ve ever heard of having that is Lucifer.”
“So I’ll have blackfyre.” Valerie looks down at her palm. She fists it and opens it again.
“Maybe. Maybe static is all you have.” I lean back and rest my weight on the porch.
“And those tiny demons flying around have gifts, too?”
I wave my hand in front of my face. “Nah. They’re the lowest of lesser demons. Kind of like animals, but not really, because they have a conscience. ‘Weak and useless’ is how I’ll put them. There’s a ton of different kinds of lesser demons. Beelzebub loves them.”
“Beelzebub. He’s real?”
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know, pretty.” And there are lots of things I’ll want to show her.
She continues tostare at her fist like it’s a bomb. “I just want to figure out why I’m—”
A loud scream interrupts her. At first, I worry it’s from Xeres or Sylver, but I recognize the voice as Jared’s.
Valerie pales. She pushes herself to her feet, climbs up the steps of the porch, and runs to her brother.