2. Nox

2

Nox

I couldn't believe we were finally here.

After fucking centuries in Hell, we were finally topside. Who would've thought our freedom would be delivered in the hands of a human? Not me, that was for sure. But that was what had happened when the mates of the sons of Lucifer bargained their way out of Hell. They'd extended a deal: to smuggle them out of their prison in the deepest circle of Hell in exchange for a life on Earth and the protection of their mates.

It wasn't like we'd never been topside before. We'd made the occasional excursion in the past, but never for longer than a few hours. Always just enough to give us a taste of what we were missing.

Some thought we were being given a reward whenever we were sent to Earth on a mission, but I knew better. Lucifer knew how much the five of us wanted to leave. Having already lost his sons to the temptations of life outside of Hell, he wasn't prepared to let us walk away too.

We weren't special. None of us were part of his inner circle; you had to be royalty for that. The five of us qualified as higher demons, but we were considered peasants compared to the rest of them.

Our jobs hadn't involved advising Lucifer or casting judgement. We were on the more…practical side of things.

Basically, if a human had been really, really naughty, they were given to one of us to play with.

Before Cal and his brothers had left, they were part of the merry band of torturers. We didn't socialise or spend time together though. Like I said, we were in different social spheres. But when they left, their workload was unceremoniously dumped on the rest of us.

To lose us too would leave a gaping chasm in Lucifer's torture roster and he never missed an opportunity to exert his control. Our trips to the surface were never rewards, they were punishments. A glimpse of the life we might've been able to enjoy with a more benevolent ruler in charge before we had to return to our usual reality.

The one where we had the literal antithesis of a benevolent ruler lording over us.

Unlike most other demons, I'd never resigned myself to a future trapped down there. How could I, when I felt a constant pull to the surface? For centuries, it had felt as though a part of me was missing, lingering up there and waiting for me to go and find it.

I wasn't alone in feeling it either. It was what had led Dahlia to making the deal she had. A deal that meant the five of us could finally leave.

For good.

Now, we were topside, but the pull hadn't subsided. Problem was, I understood what was causing it now…and I wished I didn't. Anything would have been better than knowing what had been trying to drag me out of Hell.

Or rather, who .

Stepping off the bottom step, I straightened my jacket in the hallway mirror. "Quill? You coming or what?"

Quillian shuffled out of the kitchen, a massive bowl of cereal in his hands. "Nah, can't be fucked."

I looked him up and down pointedly. As I'd expected, he hadn't bothered to get dressed today, his shaggy blond hair even more unkempt than usual. I wouldn't have been surprised to see a bird or two nesting in there. "You can't keep putting this off, man. You're gonna have to go out at some point."

"Not today though." He spooned a mouthful of Cheerios into his mouth, slurping noisily. "Today's a cereal day."

Dahlia appeared in the entrance to the living room and leaned against the doorjamb. Pursing her lips in Quill's direction, she crossed her arms, her bracelets jangling. "This is your fourth cereal day this week."

"So?"

"So it's only Thursday."

Quill spooned more cereal in, ignoring the drop of milk hitting his already stained t-shirt. "Don't judge me."

She rolled her eyes. "We're demons , Quill. It's literally what we do."

"Still rude," he said around a mouthful of cereal. "Stop fucking fussing. Honestly, you're so annoying sometimes."

I groaned internally, knowing exactly where this was going to go. Thankfully, the front door opened behind me, announcing the arrival of Jeremiah.

Dahlia's voice was deadly quiet as she shoved off the doorframe. "What the fuck did you just say to me?"

Jeremiah moved up next to me, his long, wavy hair pulled back in a ponytail. Thank Satan. Last time he'd had it down during an episode, he'd ended up losing a handful of it. The hour-long pout that had followed while it regrew wasn't something I wanted to live through any time soon.

"Really? Again?" he said.

"Yep. It's your turn."

"Is it fuck," he hissed. We watched Quill put his bowl on the floor, life finally showing in his eyes as Dahlia prowled towards him. "I did it last time. It's Darius's turn."

"Well Darius isn't here."

Jeremiah huffed. "Surprise, surprise."

Dahlia moved first, a thin dagger coming out of the sheath at her waist and swiping at Quill's throat. He ducked it with a laugh before his fist connected with her stomach.

Jeremiah and I winced. Not because it would've hurt Dahlia, because it wouldn't.

But it would've pissed her off.

A pissed-off Dahlia was definitely something one wanted to avoid.

Dahlia straightened and I could feel the power humming from her. A glimmer of panic flickered in Quill's eyes before she slammed a wall of fire into him.

He flew backwards into the kitchen and, from the sounds of it, landed on the table.

Jeremiah groaned. "Not the fucking table again."

"We should get a steel one next time." I rubbed at the stubble covering my chin. "Might survive longer than a week then."

"Doubtful," Jeremiah said. "Why do they have to do this every fucking day?"

I shrugged, slipping my arms into my leather jacket. "Probably because Dahlia can't find her mate, and Quill refuses to leave the house."

"Neither of which is our problem, yet we're the ones picking up after them." Another massive crash echoed through the townhouse, followed by Dahlia's unearthly cackle. "Speaking of which, are you really about to fuck off and leave me to deal with it alone?"

"Yep." I picked up my helmet with a smirk. "I've got plans."

"Plans that involve a certain blond angel?"

My smirk slipped away, replaced by a cold mask. "Absolutely fucking not. Why would you even say that?"

Jeremiah grinned as we both ignored the small explosion from the kitchen. "Well, when I popped to the shop yesterday, I happened to walk past a heavily warded area…one that stank like archs."

My skin prickled. "I've got no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't." Another crash. "But I am curious why you decided we should settle in London when there's a whole world for us to explore."

I busied myself with putting my helmet on. A completely unnecessary accessory given my immortality, but humans tended to get suspicious if you didn't wear one. Plus, it made me look hot. Sue me. "It was a group decision."

"One very much driven by you."

Glass smashed in the kitchen, making Jeremiah drag a hand down his face. "Fuck's sake. Darius really needs to be dealing with his share of this bollocks. Where is he, anyway? I've barely seen him since we arrived."

"No idea." I pointed at the door. "We done here?"

"Guess so."

Fire billowed into the hallway, and Jeremiah and I raised our shields in sync, the flames bouncing off them harmlessly .

"I'm not decorating this hall again. Make sure they know it's on them," I said.

"Will do," Jeremiah said, staring pityingly towards the source of the chaos. "I wish we could help them."

I clapped him on the back. "Me too. It's an adjustment living up here, that's all. They'll come around."

I wasn't wrong in what I'd said to Jeremiah, it had been an adjustment living topside. There was no one instructing us on how to go about our days. No one to torture. No politics to navigate or manipulations needed. I'd even had to get used to sleeping in silence, the ambient screams I'd lived with for centuries conspicuously absent.

It was strange. We'd effectively been incarcerated for years, only to one day be handed the keys to our prison. But there'd be no halfway house. No explanation of how to fit into society. We may have been freed, but that didn't mean it was easy. The five of us were fumbling our way through, trying to figure out what came next. What we were supposed to do now.

Quill dealt with it by hiding. Dahlia by searching for her absent mate and taking her frustrations out on Quill. Jeremiah by fucking everything that moved, and Darius by disappearing on his own for days at a time.

As for me? I survived the same way I had in Hell.

By focusing on one day at a time.

The biggest adjustment to not living in Hell wasn't an emotional one, but a physical one. Demons drew their power and strength from sin. For those like the sons of Lucifer, or Ferry, one of the original fallen, sin was something they needed little of. A petty misdemeanour would be enough to see them through a week.

For the rest of us, we needed a steady stream of sin to keep us running at full steam. Back in Hell, it wasn't something we needed to think about; we were literally surrounded by sinners. Topside though, we all noticed how quickly we became drained. It was one of the reasons why I kept trying to encourage Quill out of the house, and why Dahlia was fussing over him. He hadn't stepped outside since the day we'd moved in.

It was starting to become noticeable. His movements were sluggish and his rate of healing slower. It probably didn't help that he and Dahlia kept beating the shit out of each other, but honestly, we had no idea what to do. Quill only showed signs of life when going a few rounds with Dahlia, which was probably one of the reasons why she rose to his antagonism so readily.

None of us knew what would happen if Quill abstained from sin much longer, nor did we want to find out.

We didn't love each other. I wasn't sure demons were capable of that, despite what the sons of Lucifer might argue. But the bond between us had been forged in fire and blood. We'd fought and died for each other. We weren't going to let any of us fail now we had the future we'd dreamed of within reach.

Hence our concern about Quill. It wasn't even like it was hard to find sin. Humans sinned every few minutes without even realising. Lust, pride, envy…all of them fuelled us. You could guarantee a small hit without having to stray far from our front door.

Tonight I wasn't after a small hit. The pull I was trying so hard to ignore was becoming unbearable. My theory was that maybe I could drown it out with sin. If I was running at full strength again, maybe I could forget about it.

About him.

I'd spent centuries wondering what this feeling was, this constant sensation of missing… something. Longing for it, even.

Now I knew, and wished like fuck I didn't.

It was comical, really. I wasn't like the sons of Lucifer, searching for a life here so I could try to forget my heritage. I didn't want to pretend I was human. I was a demon, through and through.

All this time, I'd wanted to be free . Part of that freedom meant embracing who and what I was to the fullest. It didn't mean suddenly getting over the idea of angels being my natural born enemies and getting into bed with one. Especially one who'd lived the most charmed of lives. I'd seen the place where he and his unit lived. It wasn't a house, it was a mansion, plain and simple.

So, no. I wouldn't be fucking the angel or anything else the pull might entail. That was what I called it. The pull.

I wouldn't name what it really was. Not even to myself.

Parking my bike outside the casino, I sat the helmet on the seat with a smirk. Hopefully someone would steal it. That sin could be like the after-dinner mint following the five-course meal I was about to devour.

Striding for the entrance, I threw my jacket in the direction of the coat check girl. Without waiting to see if she'd caught it, I entered the casino. The hum of noise immediately made me feel more at home.

Not as much as the sin though. A lazy grin pulled at my lips as it washed over me, flames tingling under my skin. Oh yes, this would do nicely. Nothing worked as well as greed…aside from lust. Maybe after this I'd hit up a strip club.

Of course, I could have taken a leaf out of Jeremiah's book and taken a human home for the night. Lust was good as an observer, but if you were the one causing it?

It was like being starved and then set loose inside a sweet shop.

Unfortunately, my cock hadn't been interested in a single human we'd come across. It was weird; I'd never had this before. Men, women, enbys, humans, supes…all of them turned me on.

The past few weeks though, there'd been no one. My dick remained resolutely uninterested. And believe me, I'd tried.

So, as fun as a fuck sounded, it was unlikely to be on the agenda tonight.

I eyed the tables, trying to decide what I fancied. There was a promising frisson coming from a young man at the blackjack table, beads of sweat coating his upper lip, but I dismissed him almost immediately. From the holes in his shoes, I was willing to bet that the chip he was laying down with trembling fingers was his last.

No, I wanted something that was going to last longer. Something to really get the juices flowing. My gaze fell on a high-stakes poker game. Bingo.

Everyone except the dealer looked like they'd walked straight out of the financial district and into this casino. From the sneers they all gave my casual clothes, they weren't keen on me bringing down the status of the table with my poverty.

Joke was on them—I was probably richer than all of them combined. It was easy when you were a demon who had no moral compass and considered theft a leisure activity.

"Evening, gentleman." I smiled congenially. "Room for one more?"

The suit to my left eyed me scornfully. "I don't think this game is your speed."

My smile turned deadly. "Oh, I think I'll be able to keep up."

The compulsion I'd laced my words with had them accepting without further protest. I wondered idly if I should've bothered or if my attitude alone could've got me a seat at the table.

I picked up my hand of cards and hid my smirk. Would you look at that—a royal flush. Not bad for a demon without a drop of royal blood to his name.

One game slipped into another, my strength growing the whole time I sat there. I made sure not to win every hand, steadily feeding their greed.

I'd chosen my targets well. Not only were they bankers, known for having skewed moral compasses at best, but they worked together. Within no time at all, I'd analysed the weak links between their relationships. I identified those who were rivals, which was most envious of the rest, the guy who thought he was better than the others, the one who secretly lusted over the man to my left.

Using my compulsion along with subtle digs, I worked that table until their cup of sin was overflowing. Pride, lust, greed, envy, wrath…they were all in the air as an argument erupted. Sitting back in my seat, I sipped a glass of vodka as it all played out for my entertainment.

" This is all your fault. "

" Don't blame me! I didn't ask Brian to give me the client. Maybe if you weren't sneaking off to fuck your PA, you would've landed them. "

My smirk deepened. It was just too easy.

Suddenly, everything in the casino seemed to go quiet. I lowered the glass from my lips as the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Someone was here. Someone was watching me.

Not someone. Him .

Taking a steadying breath, I put the glass down with a gentle click. I didn't look around immediately, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing I'd felt him there and sought him out.

Two of the men were standing now, veins popping in their necks as the argument rose to a fever pitch. I threw a chip into the centre of the table to get their attention. "How about a final game? Winner takes all."

Strong hands clamped down on my shoulders. "Actually, I think you're done for the night."

Fuck.