4. Niklaus

Chapter four

Niklaus

Two Months Until Christmas

W hat the fuck is it about this human that has my head spinning and my cock straining against my zipper for the past month? She has me completely enthralled, even when I know she is batshit crazy. I’d never say that to her face, though—I know Cherise hates when people call her crazy—it’s a huge trigger for her that makes her detonate into a knife-wielding frenzy. Which is super hot, by the way. Lucifer, damn it all. What is she doing to me?

I’ve fucked humans before, sure; it’s a way to kill time and let off some steam in between marking souls for the big day every December. But I have never, and I mean never, been in love or had feelings for one before. Even thinking about the word love makes me want to vomit and summon my imps to destroy me for the pathetic thought.

Cherise is changing every single rule in my handbook. She makes me fucking feral. Obsessed. Possessive. Murderous. This girl will be mine. I’ve already marked four innocent souls to claim on Christmas Eve, and their souls didn’t give off that sweet aroma of wickedness—all because, in some way or another, they pissed off Cherise. Mind you, that’s not hard to do, I’ve learned. I’m constantly following her around and trying to capture her attention. I offer to take her out on dates; DATES, who the hell am I? There is something deeply twisted and disturbing about this whole turn of events, and I wouldn’t say I like it in the slightest. I’m a demon, for fuck’s sake—I am The Saint! If anyone found out I’ve gone soft for some delusional human who can be found staring off into space for copious amounts of time or speaks to friends who are invisible to the naked eye, no one would fear me any longer.

And I can’t have that. No, I need to cut this shit out—and fast. I need to get this woman out of my head before she ruins everything. Maybe I’m just horny? I mean, I haven’t gotten laid in the last two months. Mainly since the closer it gets to December, the more focused I become on marking the tainted ones, and now there’s her—the soul-sucking succubus who’s ensnared me in her thrall. I’ve jerked my dick hundreds of times to images of her filling my mind and making me act like a teenage human boy who’s never even seen a pussy before. It doesn’t help that she’s drop-dead gorgeous and sparks something inside my black, demonic soul that I’ve never felt since my creation. Every time I come close to Cherise Bates, I want to claim her on the spot—every inch of her body I want to touch, every wacky thought that passes through her mind I want to know, every scar I want to trace, every hole I yearn to fill. I want it all, every part of her, and I will have her for eternity. She will give me her soul willingly, and I will stop at nothing to take it from her. Shit, there’s something wrong with me. Demons like to possess, but not like this—not with nauseating feelings. That’s it. I’m cutting all ties. I cannot see her anymore.

Like a demon lured by sweet temptation, I walk down the lifeless sidewalks of Lockwood with a clear view of my prize a few feet ahead of me. With the help of the star-filled night sky, I keep to the shadows to avoid detection. I’ve officially lost my mind. Maybe that’s the joke—I’m obsessed with some crazy chick, so that must mean I am now the crazy one. Why is she even walking around at this time anyway? It’s 11:30 pm on a Tuesday in October, and the majority of the town is asleep. Not to mention the fucking curfew placed over this cursed town, procured by none other than the king of evil himself—Lionel Ashcroft. I grind my teeth at the thought of Lionel and his sick fucking family. I’ve wanted to reap that entire family since I took over this gig, but alas, they’re protected by Lucifer. Every innocent soul they sacrifice during their fucked up ritual buys them safety from me. My stomach churns, and hellfire burns my tongue with longing vengeance. One day, I will find a loophole around that bullshit safety net and decapitate them all myself. I’ll hang their limbs atop every inch of this town, their church, the grocery store, the bank—hell, even the fucking trees will be covered in a bloody show of ornaments consisting of a glistening sinewy delight. I’ll fucking—

I quickly crouch down behind the bush beside me, just before Cherise goes still and turns around to check behind her. Damn it, I didn’t think I was being that loud. I pivot on my feet to peer around the green shrub to get a look at her, and she’s talking to her “friend” again. Maybe she didn’t hear me after all. No matter. I definitely don’t want her to catch me, but now I’m curious to get close enough to hear their conversation. Well, her conversation with herself.

My magic isn’t as powerful as it will be come December, but I’m sure I can conjure up something light for the occasion. With a snap of my fingers, a Godless smile plastered across my lips and my eyes glued to my sweet sin, I cloak myself entirely in invisibility. I stare down at myself, and while I still have a corporeal form, I cannot be detected unless I make a sound or Cherise bumps into me. This is perfect. Why didn’t I think of this sooner?

With careful steps, I leave the covered area behind the brush and make my way over to my candy-loving . Her voice crystallizes the closer I get—mindful of my breathing and making sure I don’t step on something that would make noise and alert her—I make my way until I’m standing before Cherise. She’s staring at absolutely nothing, but appears deep in thought. I gaze into her haunting, crystal blue eyes that remind me of the clearest, shallow ocean water found only on the most isolated, serene beaches across the globe—ominous and rare but exceedingly fascinating. And even though the ocean’s beautiful, it’s vast and dangerous—the unknown lurking beneath the depths waiting to pounce on any unsuspecting victim—that’s how I feel when I’m with Cherise. As if I, a fucking demon, am the unsuspecting victim who will fall under her mysterious allure—all because I want to claim every secret beneath her surface and dominate her sea.

“I’m going after the bad man, like I told you. I must be quick, or I’ll get caught out past curfew. I don’t have much more time to waste.” Her eyes glance around our surroundings to ensure no one is lurking about to inform the police that there’s a woman out past curfew. Who is this bad man she’s seeking? I’ll rip him apart myself if she leads the way.

She’s silent for a beat, listening to whatever her mind is replying to her, before she speaks again in a hushed whisper. “He won’t ever take you away from me again. I’m doing this for both of us. To keep us both safe—and together. We will never get hurt by bad men again, and you can stay with me—away from your da—”

She’s cut off by herself, and scoffs at whatever just skated across her mind. I cross my arms, giving her an incredulous look with a single raised brow. She’s so damn crazy, it’s somehow cute. However, this appears to be about someone who’s hurt her—and ultimately, whoever this “friend” of hers is. I’d like to know who’s hurt her too, and I have a hunch those scars scattered across her delicate, pale skin are part of it.

“Your Daddy will not be an issue. This Christmas, I’m going to end it all. First with The Saint, and then your Daddy.” What the fuck? Did I hear her correctly? I choke back a gasp that threatens to give away my location—did she just say "first with The Saint?" She can’t be delusional enough to actually think she is any match for me, and more importantly—what the hell did I even do to her? Maybe I’ve devoured someone she knows, a friend, family member, or ex-coworker? I’m itching to check my list to find anyone who could be attached to her name. Cherise Bates, you have become much more interesting, my sweet sin. It would seem there is more to our connection than meets the eye. She thinks I’ve done something to her, and I plan to figure out what.

“I’ll be ready for The Saint, don’t worry, sweet angel. After tonight, I’ll be one step closer to him—I’m going to catch him off guard when he least expects me—he won’t even see me coming. Once the beast is vanquished, the last two bad men will go next. Then we will be free.”

With a slight nod toward… the air, she swiftly turns around and continues her journey towards, I assume, this alleged bad man. I allow her to gain some distance before I continue to stalk after her. I never saw myself becoming a stalker, but here I am stalking this delicious, delusional, sugar-coated human that, without a doubt in my mind, will be mine. But first, I need to figure out why she wants me dead. That thought should make me want to kill her right here on the spot. Instead, I’m intrigued and, of course, very aroused that my sweet sin wants to take me on.

As soon as I feel she’s far enough away from me, I snap my fingers and watch my once invisible body reappear. I rub my hands together to conjure my list that contains the names of every soul I’ve claimed for myself, and every soul that is now marked for extermination. I open the scroll and place a single hand on the mystical golden parchment, imbued with the finest magics of Hell, and search for the last name Bates. I feel magic thrum through my fingertips as the parchment beams with a bright flaxen hue—and then it stops so suddenly with nothing picking up on the name. I let out a disgruntled sigh.

Not even Cherise Bates is marked on the list, which means when I attempted to claim her during our first meeting, it somehow didn’t work. She’s hiding something from me, and I’m determined to figure it out. She might just meet The Saint sooner than she thinks, but it will be I who she will not see coming. I could just… kill her. That would save me a lot of trouble and rid me of these damned emotions that are foreign to me. I shake the thought away, not taking it off the table completely.

I place one foot in front of the other, keeping a casual pace behind her, when she turns right and heads down the sidewalk of a run-down neighborhood. I sigh again, much more annoyance laced into it, and continue to follow my human.

I pause, going still when I hear the faint chime of bells ringing like whispers carried in the wind. Lucifer, damn it, not now. The bells ring louder as my right-hand devil imp nears—and with a sharp, crackling sound, the air heats around me—reminiscent of the infernos of Hell. Swirling flames emerge from the depths, accompanied by the distant echoes of screams, layered beneath the roar of fire, as Grimble suddenly appears before me—a devilish, toothy grin showing off all of his sharp, pointed teeth. All of two feet, Grim may be tiny, but he’s the most vicious imp of them all, which is why I made him my second. If I dole out an order, he’s the one who whips the rest of the imps into shape to complete it. And there are instances where I do mean whipping in a literal sense.

“Not now,” I grind out, pushing past him and moving towards my little sin.

Grimble matches my stride, and with a snarl only emitted from the depths of Hell, he doesn’t heed my command. “Master, I sensed you use your magic on the scroll. Are you in need of my assistance to locate a delicious, tainted, succulent soul for you? Just say the word, and it shall be done.”

I glance down at him; his pale gray skin looks translucent under the dim illumination of the street lamps. He’s wearing his usual black top hat, two sizes too small to fully cover his hairless head, along with his regular apparel consisting of a dark green suit and red tie. He gazes up to meet my glare. He has no lips to hide his teeth, and with barely any skin surrounding his mouth, you can see the bone underneath—his revealed teeth give him a constant look of smiling. His nose and ears come to sharp points, with the ears slightly sagging downward. He is a thing out of a human’s worst nightmares, but he’s fucking magnificent to me. All of my imps are; they all look and dress the same, with only slight changes in each one’s facial structure. “I said not now, Grim, and yet you are still here,” I snap, with more edge in my tone than intended. It’s not his fault; he’s just doing his job, but I want to keep my sugar-scented addiction a secret.

Almost as if he heard my thought process, his eyes shoot to my little prize walking ahead of us. He places his fingers together with a gleeful laugh. “Is this your next target, Master? I’m sure her soul smells like the sweetest, most sin-stained—”

“Enough! She is mine—and mine only.” I catch the sparkle in his pale, crimson eyes as he observes her closely. “Are you even listening to me?”

He shakes his head with a sharp intake of air. “Uh, yes, so sorry, my glorious Saint. May I ask why you do not require my assistance to mark the girl? I can smell her from here, she reeks of the most charming death and rot… but drenched in something that is also pure. How can that be?”

“I don’t know, that’s what I’m trying to figure out. Cherise Bates has become the bane of my fucking existence, from the day her scent wafted over to me inside that damned candy store.” I return my gaze to my sweet sin; she quickens her pace as she turns onto a dark driveway cast in shadows due to the house having no porch light on. Maybe whoever she’s after isn’t home.

“Are you interested in this girl, Master? Have you not fucked her yet with your—” I turn my head sharply, opening my jaw and letting my wide, pointed teeth snap in his face. I feel my claws elongating as I clench my fists at my sides. “I was going to say with your resplendent—almost as large as Lucifer’s—cock.” He winces when I let out a feral, otherworldly growl. I back away from his face slowly, eyes still trained on his terrorized appearance.

“I have no interest in this girl. Except for the fact that she maybe wants me dead and has stolen every waking thought of mine and filled them with images of her. What does it mean, Grim? I think I’m going insane.” I glance up just in time to marvel at Cherise, who is now climbing through this person’s window. I let out a huff of annoyance that she would be so careless—she didn’t even check to see if there were cameras or anyone fucking home first.

“Master . . .” Grimble whispers, with a trembling voice.

“What?” I snap, not even bothering to acknowledge his small form next to me.

“You must tell me you do not have feelings for a mortal.”

I click my tongue and look at him. He recoils, bowing down in submission for fear of retaliation for that comment.

“Oh, gracious one. I mean no disrespect,” he whimpers.

“I do not have feelings for a mortal. That is absurd and not physically possible. She just… intrigues me. That’s all,” I mumble, averting my gaze back to the quiet, dark house before us.

“Forgive me for my pathetic insolence, Master, but why else would you be following her around if you haven’t graced her with your powerful, demonic cock—or marked her for soul-harvesting?” I hear him whimper beside me again.

A low, deep rumble forms in my chest. I do not have feelings for a fucking human. It’s not possible. It’s never been heard of before. But what the fuck is she doing to me? “Grim, I—”

A loud crash sounds from somewhere in the house. Whose house is this anyway? I quickly place my hands together and summon my scroll. I put my hand to the gilded paper with haste and immediately learn where I am.

“Why the hell is she at Thomas Branson’s house?” I bellow, striding towards the house—not giving a single fuck that she will see me. A light source illuminates the hallway through the window. I stop moving towards the front door and steal a glance inside the house.

My Cherise is vile indeed, and I find myself utterly intrigued. Now, I stand here in complete bewilderment at the sight before me. My demented, sweet sin is not so sweet after all. Found out one of your secrets, you murderous, sinfully beautiful woman.