by Ivy Asher
The she-demon has straightened my hair, parted it down the middle, and pulled it back into a sleek and shiny ponytail that rests at the base of my skull. I can feel the strands of my electric violet hair tickle my back, and my wings are on full display.
I’ve never looked more beautiful, or felt hollower, than I do right now. I look so perfect on the outside, but I’m so broken on the inside.
“Deltagates, a frown is not the right accessory to go with this dress,” Lousen teases, but the half smile I try for seems to make her cringe even more.
“Delta,” I remind her. “Just Delta.”
“Well, Justdelta, play the devoted role, and by tomorrow, maybe Tazreel will have forgotten all about you. He doesn’t exactly have the longest attention span,” she tells me, offering me a soft smile and a reassuring arm squeeze.
I take a deep breath and hope, for my sake, that’s true. If I can play my part right, maybe this time tomorrow, I’ll be home. Dismay pools in my stomach, because the thing is, I have no idea what my part is supposed to look like. How the hell am I going to pull whatever this is off?
The guards standing outside my room are apparently my new bodyguards. I feel like a Kardashian as I get escorted downstairs, except instead of them keeping paparazzi and rabid fans away, they’re just making sure I don’t try to run. Which would be nearly impossible right about now even if I did know a way out, because Lousen forced my feet into three-inch heeled horrors, making me wobble with every step.
The last time I was in heels was when I went to senior prom with Tyson Prince. He was on the baseball team, and I was a sucker for those tight pants. But Mr. Prince turned out to be more of a frog, because I found him making out in the limo that I paid for with Katie Harris.
I punched her in the parking lot and made her cry, and even though I barely hit her, I had to leave prom early. I Facebook stalked her years later and found out that she ended up divorced three times and had too much plastic injected in her face, freezing her into a close replica of the Jack in the Box dude. That made me feel infinitely better. I’m going to go ahead and blame my demon side for that.
At the bottom of the steps, my bodyguarding duo silently takes me down the large corridor, my shoes clicking against the stone floors. As soon as we get to the end and round the corner, I hear voices, laughter, and music filtering in the air.
The closer we get, the more my nerves coil inside of me like knotted ropes. My hands come up in front of me, wringing together, but as soon as I catch myself doing it, I force them to my sides. If the guys were here, they wouldn’t be nervous.
Rafferty would be cool, calm, and collected, modeling for me how easy it is. Crux would be hitting on me and helping me feel relaxed by making me laugh. Echo would make me feel beautiful and promise all kinds of naughty things later. And Jerif would be put-out and say shit that’d get my hackles up, but that would help me, too. I’d be too irritated with him to feel small or intimidated by the demons in that room. I’d be able to shove aside any fear or insecurity and walk in there as my best self. It’s funny that I realize now that’s what each of them do for me. They each bolster me in a different way.
That was their magic. They showed me who I could be. Instead of realizing that and embracing it, I was fighting to hold onto the stuck, scared person I’ve been for too long. Hindsight being twenty-twenty is real, and I’m going to use my newfound clarity to my advantage. I’m going to be who they were trying to help me become.
When we reach a huge set of doors, the noise is at an all-time high. I take a deep, fortifying breath. I can do this.
They’re not here to guide me the way that I wish they were, but I can still carry the things Iceman, Jerif, Crux, and Echo taught me in the short time I knew them. I can still implement those lessons and become the woman that was always there just under the surface.
I walk over the threshold, noting that my guards continue to follow behind me. Inside, the room is huge. It looks like an entire length of a football field, with blood-red columns running parallel to the black walls. The floor is a muted gray, polished until it looks like it could double as a mirror. I’m suddenly very glad that my dress trails long enough past my feet that no one will be able to see up the skirt.
Imps seem to be everywhere, all of them dressed in matching red leather clothes marking them as the servants. They’re carrying trays of food and glasses filled with drinks, and I make a note not to drink anything in case it’s the nasty ass demon spirits that the guys were always downing.
That simple memory sends a knife to my heart. The way that the four of them sat with me in the demon bar, drinking from their cups, and the feel of Iceman’s hand on my back as he escorted me away. I remember their glares on me when they thought I was checking out Flint as he played music. That was the first time all four of them reacted in a way that resembled jealousy.
I know Echo and Crux were interested in me—that much was clear based on the flirting and with what happened on my couch that night, but Iceman and Jerif took me off guard in the best way. That’s probably why I had that sex dream later. My mind had perked right up, thinking of all kinds of naughty possibilities. Possibilities that I’ll never get to test out.
I force myself to swallow back the forlorn emotions, my eyes falling onto Tazreel where he’s standing in the middle of the room. He’s with a group of seven other Abdicated. I can tell that’s what they are, not just because of the fact that they all have wings at their backs, but because they are ethereally beautiful, just like my supposed demonic father.
Aside from Tazreel, there are four males and three females, and they seem to be deep in discussion. Whatever they’re saying is making Tazreel scowl, while some of the others laugh.
Aside from the eight of them, there are other demons here, too. Only some of them have wings, but all of them are gorgeous. They must belong to the menageries. It would explain why all of them are dressed so skimpily.
They’re all dancing at the back of the room beside the musicians, lilting, wordless songs setting the tone as their bodies gyrate to the melody. Some dance together sensually, while others stay apart, like they’re trying to gain the attention of the Abdicated, who are paying them no mind.
Yeah, fuck that. I’m not going to be in anyone’s menagerie and begging for scraps of attention.
I turn back to the group of demonic angels in the center of the massive room. I’m surprised that there aren’t more of them. I’m not religious—and I’m assuming religion in the Mortal Realm got it right—but I thought a lot more angels fell with Lucifer than this.
I’m escorted to the group slowly, and I do my best to put my I got this face on. One night cavorting with the hosts of Hell. I can handle this, right? After all, I was born for this shit...and that’s not just a saying in this case.
“Ah, there she is,” Tazreel shouts out, his eyes skimming over me and filling with approval.
I hope he tips Lousen for doing such a great job, because that whole pinned like a moth thing is scary enough as a visual.
All at once, eight pairs of breathtaking eyes turn to me. I have to actively remind myself to breathe as the beauty in front of me drinks me in and relishes me like I’m a twelve course meal.
“Her coloring is stunning, Taz,” a female comments, whose hair, skin, wings, and eyes are all different shades of red. Even her cheeks and chest have a natural rosy blush to them. It makes her look sensual, like her skin is flushed from hours of sex. She pulls off the lustful look though, because her black lace dress is nearly see-through and completely daring. Slits go up either side all the way to her hips, and the front of her dress plunges down to her belly button. I was feeling good about my rack before, but hers is ten times better. I notice that I’m staring at her perky, huge boobs, because her lips curl up and she draws a finger down between her cleavage. “You want to touch them?”
I nearly swallow my tongue.
Taz shoots Red with a look. “Elle, knock it off. That’s my daughter. I won’
t tolerate you being inappropriate toward her.”
Red—Elle—pouts slightly but drops her hand. “You’re too proud for your own good, Taz.”
“Still no luck on remembering who the mother might be?” a gorgeous man asks, drawing my attention his way. His skin is a smooth mahogany, his wings and eyes a soft tan, and his head bald and shiny. He swipes a silver tray from one of the serving imps and starts shoveling the little finger foods in his mouth three at a time.
“No, unfortunately,” Taz tells him. “The Savor’s lack of recognition is making it very difficult. I do pride myself on good taste, of course, but I can’t recall ever fucking a unicorn or something so rare that it wouldn’t have left an impression on me and given her that purple shade,” he harrumphs.
“Hmm,” the bald man says between large bites of food. “I once thought the same thing. Turned out, I had been imbibing inferno currant instead of sin gin. The procurer sent me the wrong order. I ended up tripping balls for about a month. Sired two offspring with a Rashookin and didn’t even know it until fifteen months later.”
All the other Abdicated cringe and make various noises of shock and disgust.
“I know. No idea how I even found a female, but it turns out, I like their sting, and the twins born from her are some of my favorite progeny to date.”
“Hmm, maybe I’ll try to find a Rashookin…” a woman with driftwood-toned hair, skin, and wings remarks thoughtfully.
Everyone groans. “Every fucking time,” Baldy rolls his eyes and then pops another bite of food into his mouth.
The driftwood female narrows her eyes. “Excuse me? What does that mean?”
“It means you always have to do what we’re doing, and have what we have,” Red cuts in as she fixes her breasts in her dress.
Driftwood crosses her arms in front of her, making her own boobs push together in her emerald green dress. “I do not,” she argues. “Anyway, I have a progeny that I birthed from a Krampus. None of you have that,” she says smugly.
“I forgot about that one,” Tazreel exclaims, clearly entertained by the she-demon’s weird offspring.
“Yes, but you only slept with the Krampus because he was paying more attention to me that night,” Red—Elle points out.
Driftwood flashes her teeth at Elle, but Taz gives the females a warning look. “No. Under no circumstances can you fight during my dinner party. The last thing I want is gossip about how the inner circle can’t get along. My home is a respectable place, and you will act accordingly.”
Both females roll their eyes.
“Well, I blame Luce,” Elle says, tossing back her red hair. “He always has the most diverse and outrageous parties. It can hardly be helped. Desire has a way of running away with you.”
Driftwood nods. “That half Krampus progeny of mine is in charge of my whole army now. I’ve never seen a more proficient General,” she brags, and that makes Tazreel look at me like he’s now seeing possibility where before there was only disappointment.
The group’s familiarity with one another and their camaraderie help me to calm down slightly. They talk about me like I’m not standing right here and like my actual presence is inconsequential, but I can live with that. Like Lousen said, hopefully Tazreel will forget all about me soon and move onto something else. These Abdicated seem like the sort to get bored easily.
“Will you be auctioning her off?” a male asks, looking me up and down like I’m a horse for sale. He has bronze skin, hair, eyes, and wings, and he looks like he’s wearing armor made of pure gold. Every finger has a gleaming ring on it, there are jeweled bracelets on both of his wrists nearly to his elbows, and he also has a heavy diamond pendant on his neck, and both ears covered in pierced gemstones. He is decked out more than an elderly lady out for a night at the theater.
I get so blinded by all the wealth he’s wearing that I nearly miss his question. But as soon as it filters in my brain, my eyes fly to Tazreel in a look that says, don’t you fucking dare.
But before Taz can say something one way or another, a male with pure black wings and hair steps forward. He’s wearing a black button up and slacks, and he’s drop-dead sinfully gorgeous. “Yes, Taz. What are your plans for her?”
He looks me over as the question looms in the air, and I’m about two seconds away from drooling. I can’t take my eyes off him. I’ve never witnessed anyone more beautiful in my life.
He’s just standing there next to Taz, like he doesn’t have a care in the world, but the pent up power that’s pouring off of him is mind-blowing. He feels dangerously enticing and sinisterly forbidden all in the same breath, and my mind can’t quite decide if it wants to fuck him or run and hide and hope he never finds me.
I find myself leaning toward him without realizing it, like a flower trying to reach for the sun. I jerk back as soon as I notice what I’m doing. Elle smirks over at me knowingly, and I feel like the flush on her cheeks is now reddening mine as well.
“That’s a good question,” Tazreel muses. “I haven’t given it too much thought yet. She’s a bit too seasoned for proper training. Very rough around the edges. Perhaps some time with your cavalry could be beneficial, Luce, but we’ll see.”
Luce—the black-winged gorgeous one—continues to stare at me, and I can’t look away. His eyes are such a light blue that they’re almost white, and he nods his head, like he agrees with Tazreel’s assessment of me. He’s so stunning that I’m legitimately stunned in place. I even have a hard time blinking because it’s like my eyes don’t want to miss even a fraction of a second of seeing him.
A slow smile spreads over his face as I continue to stare, and it literally takes the breath right out of my lungs. I gape, reeling, alarm bells going off in my head that scream not normal!
It takes a lot of effort, but I force my eyes away back to Tazreel, denying myself to look at Luce again and be caught in his overwhelming hypnotic pull. I clear my head of the confusing, salacious thoughts I have about him and try to focus on what they’re saying.
“Cavalry?” I say with a frown as my mind catches up. “Oh, no thanks. I don’t like horses.”
All of them start laughing, like what I said was some sort of joke, even though I’m perfectly serious.
“Let’s eat and get to know the newest member of the ranks, shall we?” Luce declares cheerfully, and just like that, a massive table filled with all kinds of things appears out of thin air right next to us.
Well, shit.
Like they all know exactly where to sit, all eight of them move into position. But to my surprise, Tazreel doesn’t take the head of the table. Luce does. Interesting.
I stand there awkwardly as eight of the nine chairs fill up, until there’s only one seat still empty, right across from Tazreel, to the left of Luce.
Not wanting to stand there like an idiot, I move to the empty chair and take a seat, lifting away the fabric of my dress so I can sit without ripping it. I’m not used to the wings behind me, so I slump forward, despite the fact that there are notches in the back of the wooden chair that let them hang unhindered.
Driftwood cocks her head at me where she sits to my left. “You hold your wings like a youngling,” she says with an air of criticism. “Or like Ace,” she says, pointing across the table to where a male with ashy hair and wings sits. Actually, more like slumping. He has his arm propped up on the table and his chin in hand, his entire body slumped over like he wants to fall asleep. Ace doesn’t even reply to Driftwood’s observation. He just looks at her boredly.
Cringing that I might look as apathetic as that dude, I try to sit up straighter in my seat. “I’m just not used to them,” I tell her. “I’ve never had my wings until today,” I answer honestly, trying and failing at keeping the irritation out of my tone.
Her fork clatters down onto her plate, nicking the glass. Everyone’s eyes rise up to me. Even the imps who’ve come over to serve drinks pause.
“What do you mean you’ve never had your wings until today?” she asks
, shock clear on her gorgeous face.
I fidget in my seat at all the attention and immediately regret saying that.
“What is going on, Taz?” This is asked from the third female and last Abdicated. She has ginger-orange wings and hair that’s cut close to her scalp, brown skin, and her face is dotted with black freckles. Her eyes are dark and hardened, her mouth drawn into a serious line that doesn’t have room for amusement. She looks like a warrior, with a strong rectangular jaw, and muscles cord her arms beneath a supple leather dress.
“When the invitation mentioned mature offspring had been discovered, I thought that meant that you just found her, not that she just found herself too,” she adds, making all eyes fix on Tazreel.
He shifts his weight uncomfortably in his chair, an irritated flash in his eyes that I know is for me. “To be frank, I’m not exactly sure. She just showed up in my meditation room like an angry storm. I caged her and called a Savor to find out who she was and who she belonged to, but things did not go at all like I thought. I figured I was being pranked by one of you. I know I’m due since I sent that kappa demon into your toilet, Ace.”
Ace snorts out a tired laugh while the rest of the Abdicated chuckle at the table like they’re remembering something fondly.
“Could’ve done without that,” Ace tells him.
Tazreel just grins. “I heard the water demon bit your balls and clogged your plumbing,” he says, like this feat is something to be proud of.
I stare at them, flabbergasted, trying to comprehend how I found myself in a place were putting a fucking water demon into someone’s toilet is a prank that they’re all giggling over. Finding some creepy demon when you’re trying to pee sounds fucking terrifying. I vow to always look down before sitting on the toilet here from here on out.
As the laughter dies down, everyone resumes looking at me once more. No one says anything, but it’s clear they’re waiting for an explanation about how I just found out I was a demon. I feel the sudden need to hold my cards close to my chest instead of just blurting out everything that happened to me. I don’t trust these Abdicated at all, toilet demon notwithstanding, and there’s so much I don’t know about this world that I don’t know what could be used against me.
