The birds were chirping. The bees were buzzing. It was Saturday morning, and I didn’t have work. The pounding in my head served as a reminder for the bad choices I made the night before. Like letting Laran take me to a demon bar, and getting felt up on some creepy imp’s lap. Oh, and let’s not forget how I finished the night off by throwing myself at Allistair.

Yeah. Last night was a shit show by anyone’s standards.

I wanted to yell at Laran and blame him for putting me in the situation to begin with, but he didn’t really make me go. He didn’t make me high. I’m also equally sure he didn’t make me seduce Allistair. All of which meant that as much as I wanted someone to blame, this was all on me, and it fucking sucked.

Being a demon and having lowered inhibitions wasn’t always fun, compared to what people might think. At the end of the day, or really, the next morning, we still had to wake up and deal with the consequences.

“I’ll have four orders of bacon and a cup of coffee. Thanks, Martha.”

Yep. My consequences were me hiding in Martha’s Diner and treating myself to bacon while I sat at my usual booth and stewed about the bad life choices I’d made. I liked to pretend it was a pre-reward for when I chose to do the right thing next time, but honestly, it was just another Saturday morning, and that meant this booth was the only place my ass would be.

The jingle of the bell on the front door pulled me from my inner rambling. Please don’t be Kendall. I was not in the mood to deal with her shit today. By the time my head swiveled around to check the door, the shift in power that was seeping through the room left little guesswork about who it was.

Golden eyes bore into mine and the sinking feeling in my stomach became an anchor tugging me to the linoleum floor. I wanted to evaporate on the spot, but not even disappearing would save me from the embarrassment of last night. I straightened my spine and kept my head high.

“I went by your shop, but you’re closed on Saturdays,” he stated. He wasn’t loud, but he projected enough that I heard him from across the diner. Devil damn him. Between Allistair and Kendall, the Saturday crowd would not be happy with me. I chose to ignore him, but I knew he wouldn’t go away. “What kind of tattoo artist are you? That doesn’t make a lot sense.”

“It’s the one day I have off, and it has been that way since I started taking care of myself. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” I let me voice trail off, making it abundantly clear that I wanted him to leave. Silly me, thinking one of the Horsemen knew how to take a hint.

“Rather limiting, don’t you think?” he continued, crossing the diner in smooth, measured steps. I growled under my breath, but shoved down the urge to throw a salt shaker at his head.

“If someone wants a tattoo, they can come in the other six days of the week. I’m not staying open until two in the fucking morning on a Saturday for drunk rejects to stumble in and get something they’ll regret in the morning. That’s not how I run my business, and it’s a great way to tarnish your name.” I leaned back in the booth and crossed my arms over my chest.

“If you say so,” he said when he reached the table. He placed a hand on my shoulder and I slapped it away instantly, like he was an annoying fly and not someone whose every movement I was keenly aware of.

“What do you want?” I snapped at him. Allistair grinned at me, like he knew exactly where my thoughts had been going.

“You,” he said bluntly without having the decency to keep his voice down. The fucking audacity. I swallowed hard, pleased that the vixen inside me was stomped on by a sizzling anger racing through me. I opened my mouth to tell him off, but he put a finger to my lips in the most publicly sexual way possible. “Now, now, Ruby. No need to make a scene. It is my turn after all.”

I considered biting him just to prove a point, but the coughing behind him and the smell of bacon brought me to a halt. Allistair stepped aside and took the seat across from me as Martha sat down my pile of bacon and a cup of steaming black coffee.

“There a problem here, Ruby?” Martha asked. Her sharp brown eyes cut towards Allistair. It wouldn’t have been the first time some jackass wouldn’t leave me alone. If only Allistair was a stalker. He wasn’t though, and even if Martha threw him out, I know he would just find me later. Better now in a public setting where he couldn’t try any funny business.

“I’m good, Martha. Thanks,” I said. She watched him for a moment longer before turning to me.

“If you need anything, just holler. Ol’ Ben keeps a baseball bat in the back just for the persistent ones.” I choked on my sip of coffee, silently waving her off. She threw Allistair one last look of disdain before leaving us.

“The old woman thinks you need protection from me,” Allistair noted as I took a swig of my coffee.

“Do I?”

Allistair’s eyes flickered with something akin to amusement, but that wasn’t all that was lurking there. The onyx flecks swirled around the iris; mesmerizing, but deadly. Allistair was the Horsemen of Famine, and as far as I could tell, the strongest incubus I’d ever come across. He said he was here to protect me, but my hazy memories from the night before didn’t lend to that. There was a darkness in his eyes, something so sharp and painful, but in the most pleasurable of ways. A predator. I had no desire to be his prey.

“You have nothing to fear from me. I make no guarantees for the rest of this world, but I would never harm you,” Allistair said.

“Because you think I’m Lucifer’s daughter?”

Allistair narrowed his eyes and replied, “You are his daughter. I have no doubt about that.” His smug voice and cold arrogance was off-putting. I pursed my lips, taking another sip of coffee.

“My birth certificate is hardly proof,” I scoffed. I’d always hated having the last name Morningstar, but in a world full of humans, most people didn’t know how odd it was to be a demon named after the king himself. Not once in my almost twenty-three years have I ever questioned there being more to it, and given my lackluster abilities, I wasn’t about to start.

“Your birth certificate is just what we used to track you. We didn’t need it to prove who you were. We know who you are. We’ve always known. We were there the day you were born. We were there when Lola smuggled you out of Hell. Rysten’s the one that made your birth certificate while Lucifer placed his mark on you. You grew up invisible because we needed you to.” The controlled passion that lay beneath that smooth, honey-like voice silenced me. I didn’t know how to reply, because I didn’t know if he was telling the truth. He sounded like he was sincere, but I wasn’t dumb enough to trust my instincts. Demons lie. They cheat. His abilities alone could probably make me believe the sky was yellow if I gave him the chance. There was also a hole in his story…

“I don’t have a mark.”

Allistair’s eyes dropped to my chest and back up. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was checking me out. I opened my mouth to tell him where his eyes belong—

“Ruby!”

Fuck me. I knew that voice. It belonged to the only person in Portland that could make me cringe out of both pity and annoyance.

“Kendall,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes. I took a long drink of my coffee, hoping she would see I was with someone and leave. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

“What are you doin’ here? You should be banned from comin’ here after what you did to my car,” she sneered as she stomped toward our table.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I feigned innocently as I schooled my face into a bored expression. Her brown eyes sparkled with hatred until they turned to the person sitting across from me. I didn’t know if it was because Allistair exuded sex appeal, or if she really couldn’t stand to see any man near me, but her eyes roamed over his designer suit and dark hair, turning more lustful and jealous by the second. Oh, boy. Here we go.

“Who might you be?” she inquired, waiting for his name. There was a subtle coax to her voice that I think was meant to be alluring, but instead made her sound desperate. Allistair tore his eyes from my face to give her a dismissive glance.

“I’m a friend of Ruby’s,” he said coldly. I wasn’t sure whether I was supposed to do a little clapping dance in my head, or be concerned by the venomous glare she turned back to me.

“I’d be careful keepin’ company with a girl that has her record. She’s goin’ to find herself in such trouble one day that even the Lord can’t save her from it,” Kendall said. Her words were meant to be chilling, but her implied threat didn’t worry me.

“You can’t save someone that’s already damned,” I muttered under my breath.

“Are you admittin’ your indiscretions?” Kendall said tersely.

“Only if you admit yours.” She blanched on the spot and I cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” she said stiffly. I munched obnoxiously on a piece of bacon because I knew it annoyed her.

“Isn’t that my line?” I shot back, hiding my grin behind the lip of my coffee cup. She narrowed her eyes, smoothing over her yellow dress. Always so prim and proper in front of people.

“I have no idea what Josh ever saw in you,” she said snidely.

“Self-respect and pure fucking awesomeness,” I deadpanned. Kendall’s mouth set in a firm line, and while it was mildly amusing to push her buttons, I wanted her to leave.

“My lawyer will be in touch,” she said grimly. She started to turn away when Allistair thrust out his hand. She froze mid-turn and glanced back.

“Be sure to give him my card. I’ll be representing her from now on,” Allistair said in a voice devoid of any warmth. I was a bit shell-shocked myself, given that I didn’t think he was a real lawyer, or would be suitable representing me for a damn parking ticket, much less arson. I wasn’t going to say that in front of her, though.

Her perfectly manicured nails, extending like claws as she took the card and turned those hateful eyes on me.

“I’d be careful who you sleep aroun’ with for favors, Ruby. By the looks of him, I think you’ve bitten off more than you can chew,” she said with a cunning smile.

“Thanks for the concern, but I think I’ll be just fine. A little whipping never hurt anybody,” I snapped. The words were out of my mouth before I could think about it.

Kendall’s face flamed red as she turned and marched out of the diner muttering “Satanists” under her breath. The diner went oddly quiet as the other customers pretended to be absorbed by the daily news or a speck of lint on their shirts. Even up at the counter, Martha was taking her time ringing up orders, albeit with a grin on her face. I drained the rest of my coffee as Allistair let out a chuckle under his breath.

“You know, I’m not one for whipping, but I’m sure Julian would be happy to oblige if you—”

“Stop talking.”

“Is there something else you would rather do?” he asked, the wicked glint in his eyes making my stomach clench.

“Not with you.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” he mused. I pinned him with a hard glare even though I felt dirty inside. Dirty because I liked what I remembered. I liked it a lot, but neither of us were in our right minds when we did it.

“That won’t happen again. You can thank Laran and the Black Brothers for that one,” I muttered.

Allistair watched me for another moment. “Perhaps. But we have an eternity together, and I look forward to every minute of it once you realize that.” His words sent shivers down my spine, both good and bad.

I should have heeded my own warning about playing with fire.