“Didn’t your daddy tell you bedtime stories?” I purred, grinning.
“She’s still drugged up,” the woman murmured as she struggled with my laces. I laughed and then kicked her in the jaw. I loved my boots; their chunky heels really could break a jaw. “Ah, fuck,” she said, her words muffled.
“Damn, you should have given her more of the drug,” her male companion growled.
“I gave her a full dose. Ow.” She pressed a hand to her jaw.
I shuffled back towards the headboard, then lifted myself into a crouch. “I could take you with both hands tied behind my back. It isn’t the first time I’ve said that, but this is the first time I’ve really had a chance to prove it.” I grinned.
The two shared a look and then attacked in unison. I aimed a heel at the woman’s forehead and then twisted to hook my leg around Mr. Rapey’s neck, drawing him closer. His fist slammed into my ass, hitting my coccyx, and I snarled softly in irritation.
I squeezed my leg tighter around his neck and held it until he passed out. They had both collapsed and she was bleeding, which conveniently left no one to untie me.
Growling in annoyance, I allowed my fangs to grow and lifted one hand so the rope was level with my mouth. Now would be a great time to have super strength, I thought as I began gnawing on the damn rope.
I glanced over to where I’d left the two perverts a few moments later as I studied the camera. “Well… we wouldn’t want all your efforts to go to waste.” I found my phone and called my favourite pervert. “Hey, you wanna make a sex tape?”
I blinked, and Timothy was in front of me. He tossed aside the phone he was holding and grabbed me, tossing me onto the bed. I laughed, and he glanced at the people tied up across the room.
“Exhibitionism, is it?” he asked playfully.
“They like to watch,” I said, shooting them a dark look. The woman was only just coming around and the man was still out cold.
“Well, we wouldn’t want to disappoint.” He tugged off his shirt. “Want to explain this to me?”
“They like to fuck little girls and let their friends watch.”
“Hmmm.” He strode over to the mortals. “Can I hurt them?”
I chuckled. “I’m not supposed to kill them.”
“I’m not you,” he pointed out, his full lips twisting in amusement.
I grinned. “Well… would you look at that? I believe you just found a loophole.”
He crouched before the people. “That girl is mine.” He shook his finger at them disapprovingly. “Only I get to fuck her.”
* * *
By the time the others arrived, I was laying boneless on the bed. “Jeez, did they drug you?” Rosa asked.
“Mmmhmm.” Technically, they had.
“Both of them are involved?” Jason asked, frowning at the trussed-up people.
“Mmhm, the woman picked me up and I think she’s the one who likes the whips.” They weren’t the fun whips that excited, they were the ugly kind which tore flesh. Even I had no taste for something so… messy.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, bitches do be crazy,” Jason said, glancing at me.
I grinned. “Bitches do be crazy.” Maybe that would be my new motto.
“Did you really need to cut them up?”
“Didn’t cut them.” I had watched though, and it had been fun.
“Are you lying?”
I shot him a narrow-eyed look. Why would I lie? I had no qualms about confessing to my bad behaviour. What was the fun of misbehaving if you never got caught?
He wisely chose not to press the issue.
Less than ten minutes later, I padded outside, stretching up as a yawn escaped me. Maybe the drugs were still in my system, or maybe sex made me sleepy. Either way, I could use a nap. Or more sex. Both. Both, would be good.
I paused as I noticed Timothy standing against the wall, smoking. “Oh, you’re still here?”
He shot me a dark, amused look. “Figured you could use a ride home.”
“Mmhm, how altruistic of you,” I murmured.
“Of course, you may have to come up with a way to reward my kindness.”
I quirked a brow. “Oh yeah?”
He nodded, grinning, and pulled me against him. His power swirled around me and the world blinked out before turning into a bedroom; my bedroom. Hmm, could his intended reward possibly be of a sexual nature?
Heaven forbid.
* * *
Three days later, I collapsed on the floor of the living area, shoving aside the rolled up yoga mat that I’d started to put down last week, and promptly forgotten about. Bored, I began to sing,
“Yoga mat, yoga mat,
does whatever a yoga mat does.
Is it useful? No, it’s not
I’m still unflexible…”
My voice was in tune, if a little breathless from my previous exertion.
“You know, just owning a yoga mat isn’t the equivalent of doing yoga?” a familiar voice spoke up from outside of my field of vision.
Startled, I knocked the mat under the chair and bashed my elbow against the coffee table. “I wasn’t singing!” I snapped, sitting up abruptly and glaring at the demon I’d married.
He laughed.
I scowled. “Hey, remember that time that I didn’t give you a key to my apartment, wasn’t that fun?” I shot him a sardonic look
He grinned. “I saw the news, figured you could use some of this.” He held out a glass of dark red liquid.
Bastard was probably just after some gossip but I sat up and eagerly took the glass from him anyway. “I knew there was a reason I married you.” I actually knew no such thing, having no recollection of the event. But I still downed half the glass before licking my lips and setting it aside. The liquid automatically warmed my stomach and I smiled.
He offered me his hand and pulled me to my feet before kissing me possessively.
“What are you doing here?” I murmured when he pulled back.
“I finished work early, thought I’d take my chances and drop by.” He ran a hand through my hair. I liked it when he did that.
“Well, taking your chances seems to have paid off. My roommate left yesterday. She took a bag and her laptop, so I doubt she’ll be back until next week.”
He pulled me closer. “Good. I want you to myself.”
“Unfortunately, I have things to do. Unlike somebody, I have a real job,” I informed him.
“Hey, I’ve tried to convince you to quit your job and help me out instead.”
“Peaches, you know I’m not in the market for a criminal career.”
“But you’d be so good at it. You were the one who suggested that I knock off a lot of different banks for small amounts, instead of getting one big payday. This way they get the insurance money and there’s hardly an investigation. Easy money.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s good to be able to teleport.”
“Speaking of, I’ll teleport you to work, that way you have more time to spend with me before you have to go,” he said, wrapping his arms around my waist. “And after work, you can start to move your things into our house.”
“You bought a house? Jeez, there better not be a torture chamber in the basement.”
“Of course not, I save all that stuff for the bedroom,” he teased, nipping at my ear playfully.
“That explains so much,” I retorted with amusement.
19
19 - Cupid
Nevaeh -
His grip on my neck tightened, crushing my larynx, and he shook me a little. There was a swirl of dark mist and suddenly we stood on the roof of a tall building and he was holding me over the edge. I grasped his wrist with both hands, my nails biting into his skin.
“You dare drop me and I’ll kill you… slowly!” I growled. Immortality would not protect me from the multiple bone breaks that would occur if I fell from such a height.
His dark eyes pinned me. “Give me what I want, and I won’t have to,”
he growled back.
“I will never give you what you want!” I snarled, reaching to try and grab him but he held firm, even as I yanked at his shirt.
“Just do it!” he shook me again, baring his teeth at me.
There was a brief flash of light and another figure appeared on the roof. “I told you this wouldn’t end well. Are you willing to reason with me now?” asked the new guy.
“Who the hell are you?” asked Tim, his grip on me losing enough to make my heart thud uncomfortably in my chest.
“Go away, Cupid,” I growled, clutching at Tim’s wrist.
“Come on, you have to see that this isn’t a healthy relationship.”
Tim and I shared a look. “This is a private matter,” he growled, glaring at the cupid.
“Must be real private if you’re on a rooftop shouting about it,” the cupid retorted, gesturing to the rooftop on which we stood.
He kind of had a point, but I chose to ignore it. “You have no right to weigh in on my relationship,” I murmured as I toed one of my shoes off, flicking my foot so it landed on the roof.
“What relationship? This whole thing is a travesty; a disaster waiting to happen.”
Tim narrowed his eyes at the judgemental fucking cupid. “We don’t need relationship advice from the likes of you,” he snarled.
“You think so? Then why exactly are you holding your wife over a seven-story drop?” he enquired, quirking a brow with a look of superiority.
Tim shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. “She wouldn’t watch Game of Thrones with me.”
“I won’t get sucked into that show, it’s all sex and violence,” I growled.
“That’s why it’s good,” he stated.
“You’re such a Neanderthal!” I snarled, lifting my foot up and sticking it in his face.
He jerked away unsteadily, making me regret the action, before adjusting his grip on my throat and swatting my foot away. “You make me watch all your crappy TV shows,” he retorted.
My shows were not crappy.
The cupid threw up his hands in exasperation. “Come on! Just ditch the psycho and I’ll find you a nice boy, human maybe,” he suggested, turning to me.
Ew. I rolled my eyes. “I have no interest in starting a new relationship. I wasn’t too keen on having this one in the first place.” I wasn’t really a ‘relationship’ person. On account of the fact I didn’t really like other people, and I especially didn’t like dealing with other people for extended periods of time.
“She’s mine, back off, man,” growled Tim.
“You’ll end up killing her, either that or she’ll kill you. It’s best for both of you if you get out now,” said the cupid.
“You think I’d hurt her? She’s my wife!” said Tim indignantly. Then he glanced at me, then down at the ground, and pulled me close, onto the roof.
I stepped on his toes and sucked in a deep breath as the grip on my throat loosened. “We’re demon spawn, Cupid. For us, this is like foreplay,” I informed him.
The cupid groaned. “You know what? I give up on you; both of you. You’re perfect for each other, in that you’re equally psychotic and suicidal. Cupid, out.” In another flash of light, he was gone.
“You hear that, babe? We’re perfect for each other,” said Tim with amusement as he wrapped his arms tightly around my waist.
I hooked my legs securely around his hips. If I fell, I would be taking the bastard with me. “You know, it’s so nice to have the approval of ethereal beings,” I said sarcastically.
He chuckled and tilted my chin up to kiss me. He buried his hand in my hair to deepen the kiss. It felt good. “Yeah, it’s a real comfort. Does this mean you’re going to watch GOT with me?” he murmured against my lips.
“No way in Hell.”
He growled, his expression dropping into a scowl. “Fine. Let’s go home.” He huffed in annoyance and teleported us both back home.
With the ground securely beneath me, I loosened my grip on Tim, and glanced down at my bare foot. Fuck. He definitely wasn’t going back to get it for me. Timothy nipped at my jawline, just enough to hurt. “Thirsty?”
“Only always,” I said, following him into the kitchen while carefully avoiding the judgemental look from the beast in doggy bed in the living room. I would not be judged by a creature who licked his own ass.
Timothy grabbed a beer for himself and a blood pack for me, snagging a glass from the cupboard. As I watched him pour, a thought occurred to me.
“Cupids can make love potions, can’t they?”
He glanced my way. “Of course, pretty sure they invented love potions.”
I growled softly beneath my breath. I bet the bastard also baked a damn fine chocolate cake. “We should have clipped his damn wings.” If I ever saw that cupid again, I was going to test the limits of his immortality.
20
20 - Domestic Bliss
Nevaeh -
“So, what do you think?” asked Tim.
“It’s nice,” I told him as I glanced around. “I’m surprised the walls aren’t black or grimy exposed grey stone.” The house was actually nice, if a little outdated. Luckily, I didn’t much care about interior design. Give me a comfy couch, a working fridge, and enough privacy to be able to walk around buck naked, and I was happy.
“It came pre-furnished. If you want we can put up some chains on the walls, maybe some decorative blades… bring in some torture devices just to have nearby,” he said, gesturing to a blank space on the wall. His enthusiasm was cute, even though he was clearly trying to tamp it down.
Things had been good between us since he’d given up his crusade to get me to watch GOT. Circumstances weren’t ideal with me living on campus with a roommate. The roommate wasn’t such a big deal, since she went home pretty much every weekend. The bunk bed was a bigger issue.
And there were only so many times I felt comfortable letting him teleport me to an empty hotel room. God only knew how many other people had fucked on those sheets. Getting our own place seemed like a great idea, especially since I’d have to leave campus accommodations in a week or two.
“Yes, that all sounds perfect.” I grinned. After all, when could a torture device possibly not come in handy?
“You want me to start moving your stuff?” he asked eagerly.
“Sure, but just be careful not to be seen by my roommate, should she resurface any time soon.” He might give the poor human a heart attack.
“Sure, I’ll start with your underwear drawer.”
“Don’t you dare!” I growled, but, by the time I turned around, he was already gone. “That guy’s such an ass,” I muttered as I heard the thud overhead of him reappearing upstairs.
I went to take a look at the kitchen. It was nice but small, which was fine considering the fact that I never actually ate. There was also a good-sized cupboard under the stairs, where I could lock Tim if he was bad.
Then I found the basement. The house must have been older than I’d expected. Upstairs was nice, too, and our bedroom had an en-suite. I had just stepped into the bathroom when the demon popped into the bedroom with an armful of my clothes.
“How are we dividing closet space?” I asked. My tiny flat had three closets, so my roommate and I had each taken one, and we’d used the third for towels and toiletries.
Tim dumped my stuff on the bed. Luckily, most of them were still on the hangers, so putting them up shouldn’t take too long. “It’s all yours. I tend to just steal what I wear as and when I need it.”
I frowned. That seemed really impractical. “How exactly does that work?”
“I know of ten guys who are the same sizes as me, fairly wealthy, and always leave their houses before nine on a weekday. In the mornings I teleport over, take an outfit and wear it. Then I return it later.”
I’d seen guys go to a lot of effort to avoid laundry, but he was taking it a bit too far. My frown deepened. “You do realise that’s madness, right?”
He shrugged. “It
works.”
“Wait, I ripped that shirt you wore last Thursday.”
“Yeah, I used to have eleven guys.” The flat look he gave me told me he didn’t appreciate me compromising his clothing supply, but he hardly had a leg to stand on when he was known for ripping a shirt every now and again himself.
“That shirt looked expensive,” I mused.
“It cost more than your entire wardrobe.”
I glared at him. “For the record, I had to ditch most of what I had because they included pink, yellow and various other colours.” He gave me a confused look and I shrugged. “It was one of those alternate timeline things,” I explained.
“Ah, I see. And you couldn’t possibly handle having a little brightness in your wardrobe, now, could you? How on earth would you possibly brood without the proper colour scheme?” He stepped closer and pressed me back against the door.
I tilted my lips up to his. “I can’t imagine,” I murmured.
He grinned and tapped me lightly on the nose. “Just remember that I’ve seen all your underwear now, so I know you secretly like some colours.”
I growled softly. “Bastard.”
He kissed me.
Hmm, life with a demon. What could go wrong?
* * *
Nevaeh, A Week Later -
He slammed me against the wall with a hand to my throat. “Who’s the guy?” he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest.
This position was a familiar one. “And here I thought you didn’t get jealous,” I purred. I knew it was bad but his aggression excited me, the way verbal teasing might excite a human. Being immortal meant the prospect of pain didn’t cause the same instinctive fear that humans felt.
“Tell me or I’ll strip the flesh from your bones and feed them to your mutt.” He threatened and, from his expression, he was completely serious.
“Peaches, I’m already yours, there’s no need for the sweet talking.” I grinned, flirting with danger. Literally.
“Tell me who the guy is before I really get mad.” His hand tightened on my neck.
Heroes and a Hellhound: Book One Page 11
