Chapter 22

22

I stared at the metal monster in front of me and slowly forced my gaze to where Roth stood. This “being bad” thing was already a horrible idea.

“Since when did you start riding a motorcycle?”

“This is not just any motorcycle, shortie. This is a Hayabusa, one of the fastest rockets on the road.” He held out a helmet. “Here.”

I eyed the silver-and-red motorcycle. There was barely any room for two people on the thing.

“It’s not bad.” The strap rattled off the helmet as he shook it at me, impatient. “We need to get going before the rent-a-cop decides to wake up from his nap and catch us outside, forcing me to do more unsavory demon things.”

We’d made a pit stop at the school office, and I didn’t know what he did in there to ensure no one would call home. Sighing, I studied the motorcycle.

It wasn’t hard to picture Roth on the crotch rocket. Shirtless.

Why did my brain always take everything in that direction? I was going to blame the genes from mommy dearest.

“What are you thinking?” Roth asked as keen interest flashed across his face.

“Nothing.” I snatched the red helmet out of his hands. It took a few seconds for me to get it on correctly, and when I was done hooking the strap, Roth had already donned a black one and was straddling the motorcycle.

I swallowed just as I realized how close we’d be on this thing, like a “one body instead of two” level of closeness. This was so inappropriate. Zayne and I weren’t together, together, but my goodies were going up against a part of Roth’s goodies.

“FML,” I muttered.

Roth’s head whipped around and he lifted the face shield. “What?”

Damn, he had super hearing or something. I waved him off as I approached the bike. Knowing I was most likely going to regret this like eating an entire cake in one sitting, I threw my leg over the seat and sat down. Almost immediately I slid forward, causing my thighs to cradle his hips.

Oh, this was not good.

Roth kicked the engine and the immediate roar widened my eyes. Tentatively, I placed my hands on his sides. He looked over his shoulder at me. I couldn’t see his face, but he shook his head before facing the front. Then he reached down, wrapping his hands around my forearms and yanked me forward.

In a nanosecond, my breasts were smushed against his back. Before I could put some much needed space between us, he tucked my hands together against his lower stomach, folding one hand over my wrists. I felt his chuckle and then he gunned it.

It was as if the jerk face knew I’d pull away and had totally prevented it.

My heart leaped into my throat as he darted into traffic, zooming between cars that felt as though they were at a complete standstill compared to how fast we were going.

Roth blocked most of the wind as he swerved around a cab, but the whispers of the wind lifted the loose stands of hair flowing out from under my helmet. The ends managed to sneak up under the sleeves of my sweater, skating over my skin. My pulse was somewhere in between oh, crap on a cracker and Christ on a crutch.

Up ahead, the light turned yellow and the bike pitched forward as he hit the gas. We flew through the intersection as it flicked red. A horn’s blaring was muted as the bike eased to the side. He took a wicked curve and it was no longer necessary for him to hold on to me. My arms had his waist in a choke hold.

Roth navigated the crowded streets like a pro and, after a couple of minutes, the adrenaline kicking in my veins wasn’t from fear of becoming a giant road burn, but from the rush of exhilaration.

This...this had to be what flying felt like.

A giddy smile broke out across my face, and I was happy that the shield hid it, because I probably looked like a dork. Loosening my hold, I leaned back and closed my eyes.

Oh, I wanted to shift again. I wanted to climb off this bike and force my skin to expand and my bones to stretch. I wanted to feel my wings unfurling and I wanted to take flight. But doing so in downtown D.C. in the middle of the day wouldn’t go over so well.

After a short time, I realized we were heading toward the Palisades, to where Roth lived. Instinct fired off a ton of warnings, but there was little I could do about it at the moment. I waited until he winged a right into the parking garage and coasted to a stop on the first level. The moment he kicked his feet to the ground, I whipped off the helmet and tapped him on the back with it.

Taking his sweet time, he unhooked his chinstrap and twisted toward me, resting his helmet in his lap. “Didn’t you love that?”

“Yes. It was fun, but why did you take me to your apartment? I shouldn’t be here.”

“Says who?”

I shot him a look.

“Stony?”

“Roth.”

He rolled his eyes. “I told you I wanted to show you something. It’s not my apartment. I’m a bit more creative than that.”

I resisted the urge to hit him with the helmet as he climbed off the bike gracefully. Smoothing a hand over my wind-tossed ends, I mentally cursed myself out. I’d put myself in this situation...whatever this situation turned out to be and, as Roth thrust his fingers through his own hair, shaking out the mess of waves, I knew I was so going to pay the piper later.

When I started to scoot back off the bike, he muttered, “Finally.”

I stopped and flipped him off.

Roth laughed as he took the helmet from me, placing it on the bike beside his. “No one will mess with them,” he explained when I eyed what he was doing. He then extended his hand. “No second thoughts now.”

My gaze dropped to his hand. It wouldn’t be so bad if we were actually attempting to locate the Lilin or gain info on it. At least I’d have an excuse for being here other than being...bad, but it was too late now.

I didn’t take his hand as I got off the bike, not nearly as gracefully as Roth. He shook his head as he stepped back, giving me some space. “So what are you going to show me?”

His low chuckle sent a shiver through me. “Lots of things, but you have to promise me what you see stays here.”

My gaze met his and curiosity truly got the best of me. When he turned and strolled toward the gray windowless door, I followed behind him, worrying my lower lip. He opened the door, spreading his arm out in a grand gesture. He bowed slightly at the waist as I walked past him, into the lobby of his apartment building. The faint, pleasant aromas of tobacco and coffee greeted me.

It was just as I remembered—old-school Hollywood. Golden chandeliers cast bright light onto the brown leather couches that looked worn and comfy. My gaze lifted to the domed ceiling.

The painting was the only thing out of place—a hard-core battle scene of angels fighting with fiery swords. Angels fell through misty clouds, their beautiful faces warped by pain. This time I noticed something I hadn’t before. The painted angels, the ones with their eyes open, all had blue eyes—that startling, electric-blue color that all Wardens had. I frowned as I studied them. What did Roth call the Wardens? Heavenly rejects?

“Shortie?”

I turned to where Roth waited by the elevators—elevators that only went down, and by down, I meant waaay down. He opened the door, and instead of going toward the upstairs, he headed to the steps leading down.

I halted in the stairwell. “Where does this go?”

“Remember how Gerald said that some covens have clubs where others of their kind can safely get together? We have the same thing.” He took the steps two at a time. “When we’re topside, we like to stick together in buildings like this and, in each of them, there’s always something extra special in the basement.”

As we went down a level, a set of bloodred doors appeared like a beacon of sin, waiting for us. Roth placed his hands on the center, flashed a quick grin and then pushed the doors open wide.

I didn’t know what I was expecting to see beyond the doors, probably something along the lines of a creepy dive bar, but what I saw was something else entirely.

The place was surprisingly bright. No seedy red lighting, no neon beer signs. Plush couches lined the walls, sectioned off by black velvet ropes. People of various ages lounged on the couches. I didn’t need my wonky ability to know that I was surrounded by demons.

Heady music thrummed. The kind you could dance to, lose yourself in. The place was packed and, in the shadowy corners of the room, I could make out thicker shadows moving sinuously. It was the middle of the day, so I was surprised to see so many here, but then again, I doubted demons operated by human schedules.

Roth chuckled as he lowered his lips to my ear. “You should see the look on your face.”

I shook my head, feeling out of my element and then some. “It’s...different.”

There was an S-shaped stage in the middle of the bar, surrounded by round tables and chairs, but it was what was onstage that caught and held my attention.

Scantily clad women danced. Women so beautiful, they could’ve walked the runways of New York and Milan. One in particular swayed in the middle of the S. A tiny ruffled skirt covered her lower half and she wore a bra that glittered and dazzled in the light.

“Is she wearing diamonds as a bra?” I asked.

Roth shrugged as he kept his eyes on me, catching each of my reactions. “Probably. It wouldn’t surprise me. We demons do like shiny, sparkling things.”

The blonde with the diamond bra moved to the music, dipping down and slinking back up. She moved like a snake, or as if she was a part of the throbbing music. She went down on her knees, throwing her head back as she smiled faintly at the man in front of her. An odd light reflected from her eyes.

“She’s a demon,” I pointed out stupidly, as though I didn’t already know that.

“They like to be called succubi,” he explained nonchalantly. “I do believe that’s the politically correct term.”

I shot him a dirty look, but my gaze was immediately drawn back to the girl. I’d never seen a succubus in real life before. “How can they be here? The Alphas forbid them from coming topside.”

“I’m not telling. Are you?”

Before I could respond, a man stood and leaned against the stage. The succubus in the diamond getup smiled playfully as she slunk down and bestowed a chaste kiss on the man’s lips.

He immediately went stiff, hands spasming at his sides while the succubus’s skin glowed. My mouth dropped open. Those reactions could only mean one thing. The man—he was human.

“Hey!” I cried out. “She took his—”

Roth placed his finger on my lips. “Shortie, what you see in here stays in here. You promised.”

I did, but I hadn’t known what was happening. I knocked his hand away. “This is wrong.”

“Or it’s right. Look.” He turned me back to the stage. The man was sitting in his seat, a happy, sated smile on his lax face. “He’s not harmed. He just gave her a little energy booster. If anything, he thoroughly enjoyed the little kiss. Just as I’m sure most would enjoy a little kiss from you.”

I ignored the last part. “But how are humans in here? Do they know what’s around them?” I couldn’t imagine that they did, the rules and all, but I felt as if the world had been turned upside down the moment I stepped through those red doors.

“Some humans tend to find their way here, but do the humans truly know what they’re encountering? The demons here don’t expose what they are, but the humans here aren’t innocent. If you could see their souls, you’d know they aren’t.” His hand curved around my waist, pulling me closer to his hip as we walked around the stage. Bambi glided toward him in response to his touch. “So the ones who come here? Well, they get what they deserve.”

What could I say to that? As I searched for a condemning response, I caught sight of several gold-encrusted birdcages hanging behind the stage. There were girls in them. A busty redhead caught my eye and her red lips tipped up in a provocative smile. Her dress showed more than it covered. I looked away, feeling my cheeks burn.

In the darkest corners of the club, poker games were being played. A man in his thirties—so plain he had to be human—sweated profusely as the ungodly handsome man across from him glanced up, grinning. Light reflected off his irises, just like it had with the succubus girls on stage.

The demon showed his hand. “Flush. Yours?”

The man’s hands shook as he flipped his cards over. “A straight,” he replied hoarsely. He fell back in his seat, face paling.

“Are they playing for kittens?” I asked, thinking of an episode of Buffy I’d caught on the computer one sleepless night.

Roth looked puzzled. “What?”

I shook my head. “Never mind. What are they playing for?”

“I’m not sure I want to know.” Roth steered me away from the poker tables.

“Pretty little girl, wanna dance with me?”

My head snapped up. One of the cage dancers reached through the bars toward me. When she couldn’t reach me, she stood, closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Long brown hair fell down her back as she swayed her hips to the music. “Come on. Let loose. Live a little. You’ll love the freedom. The way the music catches your blood on fire. You’ll love the burn. We all do.”

“Harpy,” murmured Roth.

Her eyes opened into thin slits as she dipped, running her hands down the front of her barely clothed body. She smiled at Roth. “Mei Domina.”

The language she spoke sounded old. “What did she say to you?”

He grinned. “Don’t dance with any of the girls in here.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” I replied blandly. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” he echoed as he guided me toward the bar, his hand on my back a somewhat steady presence in the crazy world I’d stepped into.

“What happens if I do dance with one of them?” I asked after a few seconds.

He leaned in, whispering in my ear, “You’d never stop, shortie. You’re only part demon, so you’re susceptible to some of the demons’ charms. Some of those girls up there are humans. They danced. Look at where they are now.”

I shivered. From his words or his breath, I wasn’t sure. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“If you could see their souls, I’m sure you wouldn’t feel that way.”

My gaze flickered over them. The girls were all beautiful in their own way. Some were supermodel thin and some larger, pale skin and darker, brunettes and blondes. “Their souls are tainted?”

Roth nodded, looking pleased. “This is sort of a waiting room and a welcoming committee all in one.”

“Is this...purgatory?”

“No.” He laughed. “Purgatory is nowhere near as entertaining as this place is.”

I really wasn’t sure what to think of that or why he wanted to show me any of this. I let him walk me to the bar. It was surprisingly sparse. Only three or four patrons, all human, sat on the stools. Roth left me on the stool at the very end of the bar next to a bowl of beer nuts.

“I’m going to go score us something to eat that doesn’t involve a food that had about a hundred fingers in it. Just don’t dance with anyone or allow anyone to buy you a drink.”

“But—”

“I’m trusting you not to get into any trouble,” he continued, his eyes meeting mine. “I know you can take care of yourself. I know you’re smart. I’m not going to lock you in a room to ensure that you make good decisions.”

I opened my mouth, but then it hit me. Roth did trust that I could take care of myself and stay out of trouble. There was a...a freedom in that I’d never really tasted before. My whole life had been inside a cage. Not like those of the dancing girls, but a gilded cage that all female Wardens were kept in, and although I’d been given more freedom than any of them had, the frustration was the same.

“Layla?” he queried softly.

Something else occurred to me then. Zayne would lock me in a room to keep me safe if he thought there was even a hint of danger in the air. Roth...yeah, he’d tried to get me out of the way, but he wouldn’t shelter me. He would...he would just let me be.

“Okay,” I said finally. “I’ll be here.”

“Good.” He smiled and then disappeared back into the crowd.

I swiveled around, frowning as I told myself I totally had this. I was cool. Totally cool.

I fidgeted with the edge of the bar, keeping my eyes down. I doubted making eye contact with anything in this bar would be a smart idea. If there were succubi in here, what else could there be? I thought of the handsome demon in the corner playing cards.

Was the demon a dealmaker—a special kind of Duke that could be summoned from Hell to make deals? Back in the day, they were commonplace topside from what I knew, but just like other dangerous demons, they’d been banished to Hell by the Alphas.

God, if the Wardens knew that this place existed, they’d have a field day down here.

“She says I need a better job. That if I can’t pay my own bills, then how can I pay hers?” said a man a few seats down from me. He was dressed in a drab gray suit. It looked like a knockoff you could buy at an outlet. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t lose her.”

My gaze shifted to the bartender, and my mouth dropped open. It was Cayman! He glanced at me and winked as he topped off the man’s glass from a clear bottle. His ice-blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and he wore a black dress shirt that was rolled up to the elbows.

So on top of being an infernal ruler and Roth’s wingman, Cayman was apparently also a bartender.

Odd.

He set the bottle down between them and leaned his hip against the counter. “Women are such trouble, Ricky. That’s why I prefer a good, honest man.”

That he liked men wasn’t news to me, but I seriously doubted he preferred a good, honest man.

Ricky ran the back of his hand over his forehead, blinking. “You’d change your mind if you met Angela. She’s an angel, as angelic as her name. I love her.”

“An angel that wants you to pay her bills?” The gleam in his honey-colored eyes brightened. “Doesn’t sound like a heavenly creature to me.”

“She’s so beautiful. Heaven ain’t got nothing on her.” Ricky lowered his head to his hands, and, for a moment, I thought the dude would start crying. “She won’t return any of my phone calls or emails. Not until I can prove I’m financially stable.”

Cayman sighed. “What would you do for this gold-digging angel of yours?”

Ricky’s head lifted, his eyes wide and sort of glazed over. He was drunk. “I’d do anything.”

“Anything?” asked the demon. He leaned forward, eyes latched on to the mortal’s.

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach.

“Anything,” Ricky agreed vehemently.

“What do you think you need for this wonderful specimen of womanhood to stay with you?”

“Money,” answered Ricky. “I need to win the lottery.”

Cayman grinned wolfishly, topping off the man’s drink again. “Then one more drink for good luck, my friend.” He raised the bottle up.

My stomach sank even further.

Ricky tapped his glass off the bottle, then downed the glass. He slammed it down and the glass shone an unholy red for a brief second. A deal had just been struck.

Love in exchange for a soul.

Ricky stumbled from the bar after a few minutes, and I hoped he didn’t accidentally get on the wrong elevator or something. I turned an expectant look on Cayman.

He laughed as he made his way over to me. “Care to share your worries?” he asked smoothly.

I leaned back. “Yeah, no thank you.”

He slid the bottle in front of me and leaned against the bar. “Would you like a drink, then?”

My eyes narrowed. “I’m fine.”

“Smart girl,” he replied. “Then again, I doubt there is any deal you could make me.” He looked over my shoulder, scouring the bar. “You’re looking at me like I just murdered a baby, sugar. You know what I am. You know what you are.”

“You just let a guy trade his soul for love.”

“Part of his soul—just a teeny, tiny piece. That’s all.” His gaze moved back to mine. “What was Roth thinking by bringing you here?”

I shrugged. “I have no clue.”

“And where is he?”

“Headed off to get us food.”

He laughed. “Roth brought you here for food? That’s great. You look as comfortable as a kitten huddled in a pile of pit bulls.”

I made a face. “I look that out of place?”

“You got that look that says not quite human, but that’s not it.” Cayman cocked his head to the side. “Frankly, when you look around, you look like you’ve smelled something bad, sugar.”

Did I?

Cayman flipped the white towel across his shoulder. “I don’t have to know you that well to know you ain’t happy with what you are.”

“That’s not...” I trailed off. There was no point in denying it. I still hadn’t fully come to accept that I was both Warden and demon—the embodiment of good and evil.

He smiled again. “You know, I know why Roth brought you here. He wanted you to see this—to understand what this place is.”

“A den of sin?”

Cayman chuckled. “Cute, sugar, but I’m sure he told you that a certain kind of people come here, right?”

“People whose souls are already tainted?”

He nodded as he lowered his voice. “These are the bottom of the barrel, the humans who do bad all on their own. They find their way here because it’s in their nature, and we’re doing society a favor with the services we provide.”

My brows rose.

“We’re aiding the process, getting them out of the gene pool so to speak, one little nip and suck at a time. That is what most demons do. We don’t go after the innocents. We go after the sinners—and, boy, do we love them.” He straightened. “That’s what your Wardens don’t understand. Just because there’s a few bad demons in the bunch, doesn’t mean what we do isn’t a very necessary evil.”

His words rained down on me as though I’d stepped out into an ice storm. Was that why Roth had brought me here? To show me that evil was necessary in the world and maybe not even that wrong?

I glanced around the bar again, easily spying the humans, and Roth was probably right. If I could see their souls, I’d see their sins. But what did that have to do with me?

It was so obvious that I sort of wanted to smack myself in the face.

Maybe Roth was trying to show me that somehow, some way, the demon part of me was necessary. That the demon side had been the one who’d given me the ability to see souls, and now to feel others’ emotions, and it had been the demon that had forced me to shift the night Paimon had tried to free Lilith. In reality, he’d always been trying to show me the benefits of my darker heritage. A small grin pulled at my lips. Thinking of those benefits didn’t lessen the blow of Abbot’s obvious disgust with me, but it helped.

“So has Roth wooed you away from all common sense, yet? He’s a yummy one, isn’t he?”

Caught off guard by the question, I felt my smile fade. “No! No. It’s not like that.”

“It’s not?” Cayman’s eyes seemed to catch and swallow all light. “How is it ever not like that with Roth? Denying him is like not breathing air.”

“Well, then, I must not be breathing. Roth and I are just friends.” Friends sounded so lame and wasn’t even particularly true considering our past.

He arched a brow, but shrugged. “Whatever you say, sugar. You want to pretend you’re not attracted to a hottie like that, it’s on you. Although he usually doesn’t do the dark hair. I like it better than the bleached white he does sometimes. It’s like Billy Idol called, wants his hairstyle back. I prefer the darker look myself.”

I couldn’t help it. Curiosity got the best of me. I leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

He grinned, dropping his head so we were eye-level. “He likes to change up his coloring. The facial features are always the same, and so are the piercings, but the hair is different. Now that he’s rocking the dark-and-brooding look, I guess he isn’t all about the ‘White Wedding’ or ‘Cradle of Love.’”

“Huh?”

Cayman rolled his eyes. “You younglings wouldn’t know good music if it hit you upside the head. Anyway, I like him when he’s dark and poetic. It’s rather entertaining.”

“I kind of like him this way, too.” I bit my lip and mentally bitch slapped myself. “I mean, I think the hair looks good.”

Another man sat down in the spot Ricky left open, sighing heavily. Cayman glanced over at him and a look of pure eagerness crept across his handsome face. “Ah, duty calls, little Layla. I have another client.”

“Uh...well, have fun?”

Cayman whipped the towel off his shoulder. “I always have fun. Love my job. Sit still. I’m sure Roth will be back soon with all kinds of greasy goodness.”

My stomach grumbled at the thought of food as I shifted back in the stool. That probably had to be one of my most bizarre conversations, and that was saying something. Even stranger was the fact that the moment I’d crossed through the door, none of the humans in here were all that tempting when it came to wanting to suck out their soul. Maybe it was sensory overload, or all the evil kept my demon in check. Wouldn’t that be ironic? The only place my demon behaved was around other demons. Totally would be my luck.

A hand curved over my shoulder. “Well, hello there.”

I twisted around. A girl a little older than me stood there, her waist-length hair shiny and black, just like her skintight dress. Her eyes were dark, lush mouth painted red, and she was beautiful in a purely sinful way.

Another hand touched my other shoulder, heavier and far stronger than the female’s. “Sister, what have you found for us?”

My head whipped in the direction of the voice. He could have been the woman’s twin. Raven hair fell over his pale cheeks. His crisp white shirt was a shocking contrast to the dark hair and red lips. I looked for Cayman, but he was preoccupied with his latest client.

I swallowed. “I’m here with Roth.”

“Did you hear that, sister?” The guy sent a provocative smile over my head. “She belongs to Roth.”

“Hold up. I don’t belong to him. I’m here as his guest.”

Sister laughed softly. “Did you hear that, brother? She is only his guest.”

I had a strong feeling I should’ve said I belonged to Roth.

“Then we must treat her like the guest she is.” Brother ran his hand down my arm, threading his fingers through mine. The sudden rush of desire simmered into mind-numbing lust the moment his flesh touched mine. “We will take good care of you.”

“I... I don’t think you...” My eyes met his. It was like falling under water, sinking so fast I couldn’t even will my lungs to breathe.

“She doesn’t think,” murmured Sister. “No one thinks here. This is the place for no thinking.”

“Yes,” agreed Brother, his eyes taking up his entire face. “This is where fun begins and fun ends. You must join us.” He tugged on my hand. “Come with us.”

I stood on shaky knees, my mind strangely empty of all thought.

Sister grabbed my other hand and they led me out onto the dance floor. One of them let go of my hand while the other spun me around. Brother caught me around my waist, pulling me against him. I looked up, his eyes a solid black. No white. Instead of fear and dismay, I felt nothing.

“What are you?” he asked. Brother spun me around.

Sister caught my arms, leading me through a stilted waltz. “There’s a strong demon inside of you.” She let go, hissing much like a spooked cat.

“But,” Brother murmured in my ear, his arm snaking around my waist from behind, “There’s a Warden in there, as well.”

We swayed to the heavy beat of the music for a few moments, brushing against other couples that seemed just as lost as us. His hands dropped to my hips. I let my head fall back against his chest, closing my eyes. My blood did burn. The cage girl was right. He spun me around, into Sister’s waiting arms.

“You’re so very beautiful,” she cooed, sounding childlike. She rested her head on my shoulder as we spun around again and again. “You’ll taste like nothing else, but taste you I must.”

As I spun, I saw odd shapes and shadows. Flesh with no faces. Faces made of skeleton and nothing more. Soft material billowed around my legs, supple and daring. For a second, I thought I wore a gown, but when I looked down I saw only blue jeans.

Brother pulled me back into his arms. I pressed against him, inhaling deeply. He had no scent, nothing at all. Our hips fit together, moving in tempo.

“We feel the same need.” He placed his lips against my flushed forehead. “A taste will not hurt.” He pushed me away.

“A taste will ease your burden,” Sister whispered, placing a kiss against my throat. “A taste will help you see.”

“See what?” I asked, breathless and dizzy.

Sister smiled. “Brother, she wants to see.”

He came up behind me, flattening his hand against my stomach. “We have one for you, our lovely little sister.”

I let him pull me away from Sister, turning me so that I faced the crowd, my back to his front. We were farther into the shadows than I’d realized. Everyone seemed so far away. Sister flitted away from us, spinning around the dancing couples like a mini tornado.

“Lovely,” he said again, kissing my neck, where my pulse pounded, then underneath my jaw, my cheek.

I closed my eyes, leaning into him. I felt warm, wanted and cherished in his embrace. I wasn’t lonely or unwelcome. I was the most beautiful girl in his world and his world centered around me— only me.

“Open your eyes, lovely,” he ordered softly.

I did.

A redhead stood in front of me, her dress pink with purple dots. A pretty cupcake, I thought. I liked cupcakes, especially these kinds.

Her face seemed fuzzy, though. I thought maybe she was older and that maybe I should be more concerned about this, and yet, I no longer knew myself. Sister whispered in her ear, taking a glass from the woman’s suddenly limp fingers.

“Dance,” Brother said.

And we danced, this girl and me. We didn’t touch, but we moved in the exact same step. As if we were reflections of one another, but we were nothing alike. That much I knew. Soon, Brother joined me, whispering words I didn’t understand. A language I was meant to know, I believe, but could not quite grasp. Sister did the same, and the woman seemed to grow fuzzier.

The woman stilled in front of me, head tipped to the side and blue eyes closed. Blue? She wasn’t a demon. She wasn’t like me. But it didn’t matter. I stepped forward, because I knew I was supposed to. It was what Brother wanted. I wanted it, too.

I stood on the tips of my toes, barely able to reach her. I felt hands on my shoulders, holding me steady. We were close, close enough. I closed my eyes, waiting for a moment, a sweet moment of pure torture. Then I inhaled slowly, deeply.

I took her soul.