4. Nox

4

Nox

W as I trying to get Micah's attention?

No.

Maybe.

But not for the reason one would assume. It wasn't that I wanted to see him again, but I did want to prove a point.

That point being that my days of letting someone tell me what to do were behind me.

Either Micah was more stubborn than I'd thought, or he genuinely didn't give a fuck about the chaos I was unleashing on the streets of Knightsbridge.

Yep, that's right—Knightsbridge. Micah and his angelic cartel occupied a prime patch of real estate in the most expensive borough of the capital. Something about that smacked of indulgence; something I was fairly sure their holy book was against.

Not that I'd ever read it—not all the way through, anyway. I had read chunks out on occasion to holier-than-thou humans who'd found their way onto my torture roster. Turned out a lot of them needed reminding of the actual beliefs they were touting, rather than twisting the words to suit their own needs.

I hadn't expected it to take more than two ‘incidents' before he showed his face, but I'd underestimated the arch. To be honest, the graffiti was so low level that I'd been half expecting that to slip under the radar.

But the bank robbery? Come on. That sort of shit should've had Micah hauling me over the coals.

And didn't that sound like all kinds of fun.

Not only was he ignoring my behaviour, so were the rest of the Seraphim. That made me suspect he'd put an order out for them to avoid me.

The question was, why? Was it because I was so far beneath them that I didn't warrant their attention?

It better not be because of that fucking pull between us. I didn't want any special treatment, not from the likes of Micah. Believe me, if I'd had a way to rid us of it, I'd have done it in a heartbeat.

That was another reason why I was escalating my chaos. If he was protecting me out of some misguided belief that we meant something to each other, that was something I needed to rectify. Fast.

I didn't give a fuck what fate intended. Angels and demons didn't belong together. It was literally in their book of laws, or so the legend went. It was forbidden, and for good reason. Our belief systems were completely different. We fought and died for different sides.

Okay, so one of the sons of Lucifer was with a former angel from Micah's very unit, but that didn't mean anything. It wasn't like Heaven could say no given who Dagon's daddy was. Besides, the angel in question had fallen during the battle in Hell, so that had probably satisfied them.

Let's be real, even if I was interested in someone like Micah, there was no way he'd fall for me. The fucker was too buttoned up. Too much of a stickler for rule following.

It wasn't like I actually knew that much about him…but I could tell. Everything from the prim press of his clothes to how he'd sneered at me in the casino, all of it suggested someone who was uptight.

Someone who definitely thought he was better than me.

All in all, Micah ignoring my antics was confusing. He was well aware of what I was up to—he kept appearing hours later to clean up my mess for me—so why wasn't he stopping me?

It shouldn't have intrigued me as much as it fucking did, but it was like an annoying itch I couldn't scratch. I wouldn't be able to until I had an answer.

I yawned as yet another window smashed. Dear me, these humans had some deep-seated anger. It had been disturbingly easy to draw it out of them. Mind you, if I'd been queuing for a clothing sale since four a.m., I probably would've been up in my feels too.

My skin prickled. Finally . A slow smile covered my face. Now things were about to get interesting.

And by interesting, I mean they stopped altogether.

Everyone around me froze. The woman with her handbag raised in her fist, her eyes bulging. The man holding an empty pushchair, inches away from breaking the glass doors to the nearby jewellery store. All of them went still, like someone had hit pause on the entire scene.

Silence reigned through the street, blisteringly loud after the racket my little rioters had been making. It made it easy to hear Micah's clipped footsteps as he marched down the street towards me .

I didn't push off the wall to greet him. Didn't even turn my head to acknowledge his approach. I just stared into the middle distance, my hands deep in my pockets, nary a shield raised.

He stopped a few feet away. I watched him from the corner of my eye. Like every time I'd seen him, he was dressed like he'd walked off a university campus. A crisply ironed shirt, chinos, and shiny brogues.

It fit his image of staid, serious arch perfectly.

He surveyed the carnage and sighed. "Honestly, do you exist to cause trouble?"

I shrugged. "Pretty much. I am a demon, after all."

"Well I've known many demons, and never one quite as destructive as you."

I grinned, finally looking at him. Like each time I'd done so, it felt like someone had socked me in the gut. Fuck, why did he have to be so handsome? It would have been easier to hate him more thoroughly if I could locate just one flaw in his perfect features. "You flatter me."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"Felt like one."

He huffed, his eyes narrowing as they ran over me. "Really? No shield? Hands in your pockets? I don't know if you're stupid or disrespectful. I could execute you without even trying."

"You could." I lifted one foot, resting it against the wall behind me as I eased into an even more relaxed position. "But you won't."

He bared his teeth. "Don't think that this… connection between us gives you any leniency or protection where I'm concerned."

My eyes widened. It was exactly what I'd been hoping to hear, but it was still strange hearing him say it. It was the first time either of us had openly admitted to the fact that we were fated mates.

Schooling my expression, I smirked back at him. "Oh really? Then why has it taken a literal riot to get your attention?"

His mouth opened slightly, revealing a tantalising glimpse of his pink tongue between his lips. "That's why you're doing this? To get my attention?"

I shifted, trying to will my cock to stop plumping up. It's normal. Micah's hot, even if he is an angel. It doesn't mean anything. "Of course not. I need sin to function, angel. You don't seem to know a lot about demons for someone who claims to know many of them."

Micah scoffed. "It's not like I've spent hours getting to know them. But those I do know don't need sin to this extent. I think you're using it as a bullshit excuse."

The penny dropped. "Let me guess…those demons are the sons of Lucifer?"

"Not all of them."

"And the Grim Reaper?"

Micah muttered under his breath. "Fine, yes. Those are all the demons I've spent more than a few seconds with."

Meaning they were ones he didn't automatically kill on sight.

"Well, angel —" Condescension coated my words. "—it's a bit different for the rest of us. We might be higher demons, but we aren't royalty, and we sure as shit aren't one of the original fallen. Our powers need a near constant stream of sin if we're to operate at our full strength."

Micah's golden hair was being ruffled by the wind. It looked unbearably soft. "Humans sin all the time. Surely you can get your needs met another way."

I shoved off the wall and prowled closer. Micah stiffened, but didn't back away. My respect for him shot up slightly. "There is one way I could get it without causing chaos. One sin that yields more power than the rest combined. Do you know what it is?"

A faint flush tipped Micah's ears, the only sign that he knew exactly what the answer was. His mouth remained stubbornly closed.

Giving in to temptation, I ghosted my fingers along his lips. "That's right. It's the one you're feeling right now, little angel. Lust. "

He knocked my hand away, stepping back with a snarl. "Don't call me that."

My smile widened. "Little angel? You don't like that?"

"On what planet would I like being called little angel ?" He spat. "It's insulting."

"Aw, but why would I stop when you've just told me how much you hate it?"

"God, why are you so infuriating?" Micah fisted his hair, looking to the sky like it might hold the answer.

"Not sure God can answer that. Lucifer, on the other hand, might have a few explanations for you."

Micah cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. "Okay, so use lust instead. That'll make it easier for everyone."

"You offering, little angel?"

Disgust flooded Micah's features, making something in me ache. I scowled internally. What the fuck was that about?

"In your dreams . "

I pouted. "Is touching a demon that scary? I promise, I can be really fun. Much better than the angels you're probably used to."

His beautiful face hardened. "I'm not used to anyone, angel or human. And I've seen firsthand what happens when an arch starts flirting with a demon. Believe me, that's the last thing I want. It's against the law for a start. Besides, angels deserve better than demons."

I opened my mouth to argue with him, but there was something in that final sentence that had me pausing. His jaw was tense and his mind seemingly miles away.

It was obvious who he was talking about. Dimitri was the only arch I knew of whose fated mates had included a demon. I remembered belatedly that he'd been Micah's second. "You're saying Dimitri deserves better than Dagon and Lucky? I didn't meet them for long in Hell, but I don't think any of them would agree with you."

Micah flinched, his skin paling. Something tugged on my heart at his reaction. Suddenly I knew exactly why Micah hated Dimitri being with Dagon.

And it had fuck all to do with the fact that Dagon was a demon.

"Ah, I see. Is that why you hate me so much? Because I resemble Dimitri? Did he break your heart, little angel?"

Our similarities hadn't been lost on me, but I hadn't thought on it much until right now. Our colouring, height, and build were all alike. Both of us were tattooed and pierced, with dark hair. The main difference between us was the short length I kept mine at.

Micah's expression turned cold, shutters going up behind his topaz blue eyes. "No. I hate you because you're a demon. You're the personification of everything that's wrong in the world. You thrive on causing chaos with little thought or consideration as to how it affects others. You don't know what it's like to have others you need to protect. Others you want to look after. You care about nothing other than yourself. That's why I hate you. You're my enemy, and nothing will ever change that. "

Anger churned in my gut at all the assumptions he was making. Micah was wrong on so many counts, but I wasn't about to correct him. Why bother? His prejudice ran deep, not only because he was an angel, but because he was heartbroken. I didn't know what had gone down between him and Dimitri, but it was obvious Micah was still cut up over it.

The only outward reaction I gave him was a slight smirk. "Say it like it is, why don't you."

His lip curled. "Oh, I will. And this is my final warning. Stop your demonic activities in this area, or I'll end you."

If Micah thought he could scare me, he really didn't know me. Closing the distance between us, I lightly grabbed his chin. Micah's nostrils flared, but he didn't shove me off. "You're right, little angel. Lust is a much better way to get my fill of sin. Guess I'll go find someone to bend over for me."

His eyes fell to my mouth. "I think that's for the best, Nox."

"Indeed." I flicked my tongue out over my lip, toying with the piercing. Micah swallowed hard, not looking away for a second. "By the way, I like the way you say my name. I'll think of it when I come."

His eyes widened as colour flooded his face. I didn't give him a chance to respond.

My wings burst through my shirt, ripping it into pieces. The scraps of material floated to the ground as I launched myself into the air, leaving Micah behind.

I felt his hungry gaze track me until I was out of sight.

I didn't go out and have sex with someone. No, I did something I was completely ashamed of.

I got Quill to teach me how to use my phone properly and used that knowledge to stalk Dimitri.

I couldn't even tell you why I was bothering. I didn't want to be with Micah. Fate could tell us we were mates all it liked—it didn't mean anything. It was forbidden, for fuck's sake.

Still, it didn't stop me finding whatever I could online about the former angel Micah loved. Or should that be ‘loves'? From how he'd looked when I'd mentioned him, I was willing to bet that there were still feelings there.

On Micah's side, at least.

Not, however, on Dimitri's. If I hadn't already known he had two mates from seeing him that day in Hell, his human boyfriend's insta would have cleared up any confusion on that front. There were countless photos of the triad, sometimes in pairs, other times all together. Regardless of who was in the photo, they all had one obvious thing in common.

The love they shared.

It was in their eyes as they looked at each other. The possessive way they touched. The smiles beaming out of the picture.

Whatever feelings Micah had, they weren't returned by Dimitri. He was clearly capable of loving more than one person at a time, but Micah wasn't one of those who'd captured his heart .

The other thing emphasised during my online stalking was the extent of the similarities between Dimitri and me. There were some notable differences—I was bulkier, my hair shorter. But there was no denying that we could have passed for brothers.

It made me hate Micah even more. Anything in him that wanted me was down to fate or the fact that I resembled the man who held his heart. My feelings on the matter were, quite frankly, ridiculous. It wasn't as though I wanted Micah. I certainly didn't fucking like him—just the opposite, in fact.

So why did this knowledge make me want to break something?

"Stop squeezing your phone like that, you're going to crack the screen," Quill scolded me as he came into the room, yet another bowl of cereal in his hands.

I grunted, relaxing my hold. I didn't apologise—that wasn't something we did. ‘Sorry' and ‘thanks' weren't in our vocabulary. Well, not unless used ironically, of course.

"What's got you so pissed, anyway?" Quill asked, slurping his milk from the spoon. "Is it your angel again?"

"He's not my anything ." I glared harder at the screen. "I'm just…bored."

"Bored," Quill echoed. "You're topside and you're bored? That's not possible. I haven't even left the house and I'm not bored."

"About that, any chance we're going to get you out of the front door soon?"

"Hmm." Quill tapped his spoon against his bowl in an annoying rhythm as he pretended to consider it. "Nope, can't really see that happening."

"You'll have to leave the house at some point, Quill. Your powers are getting weaker by the day. Like it or not, you need some sin."

"Meh. It's fine. It's not like I need my powers up here or anything."

"What if something happens? What if we're attacked?"

Quill shrugged one shoulder. "Then you guys will do all the fighting while I cheer you on from the background. Ooh. I should make pompoms. Do you think Jeremiah will go to Hobbycraft for me again?"

My lips twitched. "Again?"

"Yeah, I've been trying all these new hobbies out. Cricut, crochet, scrapbooking…none of them really float my boat. Making a pair of pompoms could be cool though. Plus, we're bound to get attacked sooner or later. House of demons and all that. To be honest, I'm surprised those angels haven't come around threatening us already."

I shifted in my seat. Quill wasn't wrong—a group of higher demons living together was just asking for trouble. It was more than a bit surprising that we hadn't been given a lecture on how to behave from our angelic neighbours.

Or it would have been surprising, if I hadn't had one from Micah already. I wasn't sure why he was keeping the rest of his unit from our doorstep. That wasn't what was bugging me most about Quill's statement though. "How do you know we have angelic neighbours?"

"Please." He rolled his eyes, speaking around a mouthful of Coco Pops. "I can feel the wards from here. And then there's that angel who's been flying overhead every few hours at night."

I bolted upright. "What? When did that start?"

"Three nights ago. Do you not sense it?"

I shook my head. It had been three nights since I'd last seen Micah. Something told me it wasn't a coincidence. "No. My room's in the basement and I didn't set the wards."

"Ah, that's true. Your warding skills are a bit shit."

I tutted. "Not all of us got the honour of being taught by Ferry himself."

Quill shuddered, clearly remembering his lessons with the Grim Reaper. "You say that like he wasn't the grumpiest twat going. It was like his mind was somewhere else the whole time, and having to teach me was taking away his precious brain space."

"You're probably overthinking, but your wards are better than mine, so it was worth it."

"True." Quill slurped the last of his milk from the bowl. "Where's Dahlia? I'm assuming she's out seeing as she hasn't arrived to beat my arse yet."

"I believe she's met someone. She's been staying out as much as Darius these past few days."

"Think it's her mate?"

I sighed. "I hope so, for her sake."

Like me, Dahlia had felt a pull topside. For her though, that pull had only started three decades ago. And, unlike me, she'd correctly guessed that what she was feeling was an unrealised mating bond.

"What about Darius?"

Yeah, that was weird. He'd always kept to himself, but not to this extent. If it hadn't been for the occasional text messages from him, I'd have been mildly concerned. "No idea. You never can tell with Darius."

"And you?" Quill prompted, nudging my foot with his. "You going to abandon us for your mate in the near future?"

I fixed him with an icy stare. "I don't have a mate, so that's not something you need to worry about."

"Sure." The sarcasm dripped heavily from his words. " And I don't have any issues surrounding leaving the house. We're all good here."

"We are."

"No, what we are is liars."

I got to my feet. "We were raised in Hell, Quill. What did you expect?"

I was almost to the door before he responded. "Something better than we had downstairs. I was hoping for it, at least."

I paused, my hand on the doorknob. "You can't experience what topside has to offer if you don't leave the house, Quill. You've got to feed the hope with reality."

He didn't answer me, just turned his head so I couldn't see his face.

I bit back my sigh, knowing better than to push. "We'll be here to take that step with you, Quill, no matter how long it takes."