6. Niklaus

Chapter six

Niklaus

One Month Before Christmas

I stare down into the crowded nightclub from atop the second-story balcony. The bass of the techno music vibrates through my body, and the room is dark, other than the blinding flash of strobe lights and the light shows centered around the DJ booth. Amid the overwhelming mix of scents of sweat, overpowering cologne, and liquor—the room is showered in the sweet aroma of sin, with so many vile creatures inhabiting one large space. I scan the mass of dancing bodies down below for the one with the intoxicating scent of candy and death—my little reaper.

After I caught her in the act of murdering Thomas Branson, one whom I marked for extermination this Christmas, I fully intended to storm in there and question her about the secrets she keeps. But what I saw upon entering the room—her legs spread wide, her beautiful pussy glistening and on display for me while she fucked herself with that bloody knife of hers—all earlier thoughts about questioning her went out the window. I no longer cared about her murderous tendencies. All I could think about was claiming her—branding her—as mine.

I offered her one chance to back out—the one time I would have honored her wishes for me to leave her alone for good. What did she do? The mad woman brought her cherry-flavored lips to mine and kissed me like she was the one who would steal my own soul and not the other way around. Foreign emotions exploded through me in that moment when I kissed Cherise for the first time—it was earth-shattering. Fucking world ending. And don’t even get me started on when I fed her my cock. I’ve never lost control like that before with a mortal, where I couldn’t keep up my human glamor. I knew that when she took my cock in her hands, my resolve around her would shatter, so I lied and said I had to turn off the light because I couldn’t get off with a dead man in the room. I’m not ready for her to see me yet—the real me, the demon against whom she seeks revenge. With Cherise, she brings the demon in me to the surface without even trying. My cock stirs at the memory of her wrapping her mouth around my length, as much as she could take, at least. I ask myself again for the millionth time, what the fuck have you done to me, little reaper?

For the past month, she’s been dodging me entirely. She clearly believes I’m somehow putting a damper on whatever the hell her plans are, which I now know includes me. She won’t let me close enough to interrogate her—at first sight of me approaching her, she hightails it in the other direction. I see the conflict in her eyes when she looks at me now, as if an internal battle rages in her mind not to run away from me. Yet, she does every time. It’s fucking infuriating. So, I continue to follow her around like a sick, obsessed human man. I try to stop, try to continue finding souls to mark for Christmas, but every time my mind wanders from Cherise, I circle right back to her. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that I may have very real feelings for her. It makes me want to vomit. I am an Archdemon. I am The Saint. I shouldn’t give one single shit that this mortal doesn’t want me around her—but I do.

Cherise Bates, you have a demon hot on your scent, and I will have you. I will learn all of your secrets hidden beneath those scars. You cannot hide from me. Not anymore.

My skin tingles, and the stench of sulfur makes my nostrils flare. “You look like you could use a drink.” I turn my head toward the short, overweight, bald man with a face resembling a rat who offers me whiskey on the rocks. I take the drink and wrinkle my nose in disgust. “You look fucking atrocious,” I retort, turning back to face the crowd below.

“Thank you, Master! Only the skins of the most disturbed souls I wear for you!” I grunt in reply to Grimble. My imps can cast glamors to hide their identity, but only of the wicked souls I’ve claimed in years past. The man standing next to me was once a man that raped and killed 14 women and children. His soul was so sweet and succulent to devour, but it’s hard to see him standing next to me now. His rot was expunged from this world, and no one should have to suffer to look upon his ugly mug another second.

“What are you doing here, Grim?” I sip the whiskey, savoring the burn as it slides down my throat. There’s nothing better than the alcohol from Hell that will leave you breathing fire, but I suppose this will do.

I rest my elbows on the railing before me, eyes glancing over the moving bodies to find my murderous little treat. I see Grim mirror my movement in my periphery, a fruity, red mixed drink in his hand with a little white umbrella floating at the top. I snort a laugh at the ridiculous sight. “If I may be so blunt, oh gracious one, but you haven’t been yourself as of late. I fear this human is changing you.” I furrow my brows, my fist around the whiskey glass tightening in frustration. I can feel the tension radiate off of Grimble. “Again, I never mean you any disrespect. I just mean... you no longer like to hunt for the sick ones with us. You’ve tasked your most loyal hellions to mark our prey for next month’s festivities, something you once enjoyed doing mostly yourself. You’ve been following this human woman around constantly—the one who reeks of death and purity. What has you so enamored with her?”

I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth as anger surges through me. I whip my head to Grimble, and he winces as if I raised my hand to beat him. I wish I could smack him, but that would draw unwanted attention. He bows his head in shame, and I almost feel sorry for him—almost. He isn’t wrong about anything he said, but what makes me consumed with rage is that he’s right. This shouldn’t even be fucking happening. “I am not enamored with her. I just… like the way she smells.” Grim gives me a skeptical look, one eyebrow raised. I scoff. “Okay, maybe it’s more than that. I don’t fucking know. It’s like I’m drawn to her in a way I can’t even begin to fathom or explain. I can’t even mark her soul to claim. Something is off about this human, and I will figure out what.”

“You can’t mark her soul for damnation? That is… unheard of, Master. We saw her murder that man through the window—her soul is as tainted as the rest that you claim—she should be ripe for the taking.” He huffs a nervous laugh, bringing the straw in his mixed drink to his lips to take a sip. His eyes dart away from mine. “We could kill her for you, Master. Maybe that will rid you of her foulness?”

I turn my body to face Grimble, grip his shirt with ferocity, and drag his body close to mine. I sneer in his face, which makes him shake violently in my clutch. “Say that again, and I will send you back to Lucifer’s feet in pieces,” I growl, not even caring to glamor the demonic edge laced in my tone.

Grimble’s lips quiver, whimpering loud enough to draw the attention of bystanders over the blaring music in the room—his eyes bulging, staring at me unblinking. “I would never do something that would displease you, my most diabolical, unholy Master. Not a hair on the girl’s head shall be harmed.”

“Good.” I release his shirt and smooth out the wrinkles with my hand. “Now help me find her in this crowd, or get the fuck out and mark souls like I originally ordered you to do.” I face the railing again and take another sip of my whiskey before leaning over the metal rod.

Grimble heaves a sigh and looks out into the crowd. “There, in the center of the dance floor, dancing with that man.” All it took him was one second to find her. Fuck’s sake.

I laser in on her, and with a snarl, I shatter the glass in my hand, the remnants falling into the dark room below. “How dare she!” I grab onto the railing with so much force that my knuckles turn bone-white, and the metal creaks under my grip as it bends under the amount of power I exert. Cherise is grinding her ass onto a man while his hands roam all over her body—a body that I have claimed for myself.

Without another word to Grimble, I push off the railing and head for the stairs that lead down to the main dance area. Who the fuck does she think she is? I need to steal her away from that limp dick before I bring this entire building down. What are you becoming, Niklaus? A growl from deep in my chest rises, and I shake the thought away. Cherise, don’t you know taunting a demon is not wise?

I push the bodies on the floor without giving a single fuck. All I care about is getting to my little reaper. A majority of the crowd are grinding on each other, or jumping around to the beat. They are all so packed together, it’s like swimming through a sea of piranhas that want to fuck each other with their raging human hormones.

I spot Cherise; her back is to me. She places her arms around this fucker’s neck while she sways her hips sensually close to his body. He lowers his hands down to cup her ass. This guy is going to fucking die tonight. And, Cherise, you will also suffer the consequences for this little indiscretion. I won’t let this go so easily. She cast me aside like I was nothing after she enjoyed my cock down her throat—acting like she wasn’t seeking anything more than a hookup—yet, she moves on to some insignificant human. Does she really believe his small dick will be able to satisfy her desires? What is this strange emotion consuming me entirely? I have never felt this possessive and rage-filled in my entire existence.

I clench my fists at my sides, standing behind her while I contemplate my next move. At best, she will come to me willingly. Worst case, she runs off again to get away from me—but at least she will be away from his grimy hands. My eyes roam down her backside; she’s wearing a tight-fitting red dress that accentuates her curves, fishnets with red-bottom pumps, and, of course, the leather jacket she always has. Why didn’t she leave that at the door? Doesn’t matter. My body goes tense when I see shit-face squeeze her ass in his hands.

I lunge forward, wrap an arm around her torso, and pull her roughly against my body. I stare down the man she was dancing with, he looks me up and down with a sinful smirk. With a slight nod, he heads into the crowd towards the bar.

Cherise whips her body around, and her eyes widen. I’m immediately pulled into her icy-blue eyes. Her features soften as she cups my face in her tiny hands. “Nik,” she breathes. “Why do you keep following me?” Her ruby-painted lips tilt into a half smile.

I can’t help myself, I lift my hand to trace my fingers over her plump bottom lip, giving extra attention to the jagged scar that runs slanted down her lips. I feel her shudder under my touch. “I told you—you’re mine. And you let some dickhead run his hands all over you. I can’t let that slide, Cherise.”

“Are you jealous, Nik?” She gasps against my fingertips, a wild glint in her eyes. Is that what this feeling is? No. The Saint does not get fucking jealous.

I narrow my eyes. “No, I’m no—”

Cherise giggles, moving my hand from her mouth and crashing her lips onto mine. A hungry groan escapes me as I deepen the kiss. My hands move to her back, pulling her closer to my body—I need her closer. She wraps her arms around my neck and starts swaying her hips with the music. She tastes like vodka with a hint of cherries. Is my little reaper drunk?

She breaks the kiss, my bottom lip between her teeth as she roughly pulls back on it, her teeth clamping down hard enough to draw blood. I don’t know if that was meant to piss me off, but my cock is now rock-solid. She releases my lip, and I slowly lick the blood with a hungry gaze focused on her. She bites her lip while she watches me lap up my blood. “Touch me, Nik.”

I raise my brows in confusion. “I am touching you.”

She shakes her head and kisses me again, flicking her tongue over my bleeding lip. My demonic cock is about to burst out of the seams of my pants if she keeps this up. Without breaking our intense kiss, she grabs my shirt sleeve to force my arm in front of us. Grabbing my hand, she brings it down to the hem of her dress. She pulls back, her eyes drenched with lust. “I said, touch me.”

With a glance at the bodies surrounding us, I quickly decide that I don’t give a fuck. I am a demon, after all. If my sweet sin wants me to touch her right here on the dance floor and make her come, then how could I deny her?

I give her a devious smirk and reach under her dress. I run my hand along the fabric of her soaking-wet lace panties. Her jaw drops, and she sucks in a sharp gasp. I observe every movement her face makes under the flashing strobe lights while I trace my fingers back and forth over her core. “More. Make me come on your fingers, Nik. I want you,” she moans.

“How bad do you want me?” I slip her panties to the side, never once looking away from her hooded eyes dripping with desire. I slip two fingers into her damp heat and slowly pinch her clit between my fingers gently. Her face scrunches, her breath catching on a hitch. “Are you just going to run away from me again when you get what you want? Or will you let me keep you now?”

She wiggles her hips, trying to create friction on her clit against my fingers. “I told you already, you can’t keep me yet. I have things I need to do first.” I squeeze harder, and her eyes close while she releases a strangled moan.

With my other hand, I grip her neck, making her eyes shoot open. “Let me help you. Tell me why you’re after these men, and I’ll make your little pussy come harder with my fingers than that knife handle ever could.”

She moves her hips again. She’s desperate to come, and I’m desperate for answers, so I can claim her soul and make her mine for eternity. “They hurt me. They do bad things to hurt others, too. I don’t need your help, Nik. Just make me come. Please, let me come.” I tighten my hold around her throat slightly, but not hard enough to constrict her oxygen supply. “Your eyes turn the most beautiful shade of red. Is that real or in my mind?”

Shit. I’m losing it. I guess that answer will have to do for now. I lose the delicate grasp on her clit, and begin rubbing it in slow, tight circles. Her jaw drops again, her eyes hooded as she loses herself in pure bliss. “You’re so wet, Cherise. That better be because of me and not that asshole who thought he could handle you.”

She steadily rakes her eyes up and down my face, a slow smile forming. “When I fucked myself with the knife, and you appeared in the doorway, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me because when I touch myself, I see your face. Every. Time. It’s only you that does this to me, Nik.”

My heart beats faster than I’ve ever felt the rhythm before, and some unknown feeling overwhelms me again. I wish I knew what it was—because that was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard, and it came from my little reaper’s lips. I remove my hand from her neck and thread my fingers in the hair behind her head. I pull her face back to mine, and I kiss her with as much heat as the fires that rage in the darkest pits of Hell. I plunge two fingers inside her entrance and hook them to brush rigorously against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside her. I pump my fingers in and out and bring my thumb to stroke against her clit. I wish this music weren’t so loud so I can hear every little noise she makes when I make her feel this good.

She writhes against me, grinding her hips in fast succession as if she were dancing along to the music. I quicken my pace, the demon within is treading dangerously close to bursting out of me and fucking her roughly in the middle of the dance floor. “Come for me, beautiful. Keep riding my fingers like a good girl,” I breathe against her ear.

“Fuck, Nik!” She brings her forehead to mine, her hips grinding faster as she cries out her release. I feel her muscles clamp down on my fingers the her orgasm rages through her. Her body shakes and writhes on my hand, still pumping inside her while I bring her to absolution.

She slows her hips when she starts to come down from the peak of her orgasm. I drag my fingers out of her and give her pussy a light slap, which makes her jump and let out a gasp. I smirk and pull her panties back to cover her fully. I bring my fingers to my lips, suck on my index finger only, and drag it out with a hellish groan. She watches the gesture and bites her lip.

I bring my middle finger, soaked with her cum, to her lips. “Taste yourself, little reaper.” She grabs my wrist and takes my middle finger into her mouth. Her eyes cross while she sucks on it slowly. “Come home with me.”

Her eyes lock on mine, and she takes my finger out of her mouth with a loud pop. “I have something to do here first. Get me a drink?”

“Stop playing with me, Cherise,” I say with an otherworldly, distorted growl.

She laughs. “I’m not. Just get me a drink, and I’ll meet you back at the bar in 10 minutes.”

I raise my brow and frown. “If you run away again, your punishment will last a fucking eternity.”

She pushes on my shoulders and nods towards the bar. “Just go. I’ll meet you over there, I promise.”

I rub my chin and glare at her, trying to figure out her angle. What could she still have to do here? “Fine. I’ll trust you, but if you fuck me over, I will not give away my trust again so easily. Are we clear?”

She smiles coyly, and my dick jumps against my zipper. Lucifer dammit. She runs her hand over the swell in my jeans, and I inhale a sharp breath. She places a soft kiss on my lips and backs away. “I’ll see you in a few minutes. Oh! I hope you brought candy.”

Well, of course, I did. I always have it on me now, but that’s what she’s worried about? I huff a laugh and nod. She spins on her heels and makes her way through the crowd—my eyes follow her every movement. I’ll play along with her little game, but I’m going to figure out what she originally planned to do here.

I follow her through the crowd, but far enough away so that if she turns around, I can easily duck to blend in with the swarm of people. I watch as she walks up to the asshole that she was dancing with earlier—who ran his greedy hands over my human. Rage simmers in my veins, but I gave her my trust—so let’s see what my sweet sin has planned for this pile of hell-hound shit.

He wraps his arm around her shoulders and whispers something in her ear. Her beautiful smile grows, but I sense the slight twitch in her lip that could mean she’s faking it—hopefully cringing at whatever foul shit he said to her. I clench my jaw so tight I could break it. I move closer to them and hide behind a large beam off to the side of the dance floor. I watch as he grabs a flask off his table and brings it to her lips. She better know what she’s fucking doing if she’s taking a drink from a stranger.

He nods his head towards one of the back rooms in the establishment, known to be taken advantage of by those who wish to bump and grind off the dance floor. She jumps excitedly and starts moving towards the rooms, but he stops her. He pulls her back into him and brings the flask to her lips again. She furrows her brows but obliges to his request.

Cherise, this is how people get roofied. What the fuck are you doing?

Once he’s satisfied, I guess, he takes her hand in his and drags her to the back. I think the fuck not. I follow behind them but still keep my distance. Cherise staggers slightly, and he pulls her closer to him. Fuck, did he actually have drugs in that? My eyes darken on the back of the one that I have now marked for death—but I will be cashing in on that tonight. My claws are itching to break free—my jaw expanding to accommodate my sharp teeth.

Cherise stumbles out of his arm and reaches for the door handle in front of them to steady herself. Hand on her forehead, Cherise scrunches her face, before bowing and shaking her head. Sir rapist douchebag laughs, reaches around her and opens the door, and pulls them both inside, before slamming it shut.

Nope, nope, nope. I quicken my stride, almost breaking out into a sprint to reach them. I yank on the handle, but he’s locked it from the inside. I look around me to make sure no one is watching what I’m about to do next. Not a single soul is worried about me in the slightest, so I place my hand in front of the door and call upon my magic. Then I pause, Cherise shouts, and I hear signs of a struggle from behind the door. Fuck. I extend my fingers toward the lock, and the door unlocks with a flash of light from my fingertips and the flick of my wrist.

I waste no time, barging through the door and kick it shut behind me. Raw, undiluted fury courses through my veins at what I see next. An unconscious Cherise lies on the floor, and tiny dick has wasted no time hiking up her dress, his hard, four-inch, unimpressive dick in his hand. “What the fuck, dude! You can have your turn after.” He waves me off and continues to pump his dick.

The Saint is coming out to play early this year. With a ghastly roar from the depths of Hell itself, I shake off my glamor entirely. I grow in height, my wispy ivory hair tangles down to my torso, my horns burst through my forehead, and finally, my claws emerge and come out to play. He turns to me, and his hand stops mid-stroke. His eyes go wide in horror as he gazes upon my true form. I cock my head with my widened, gaping maw full of sharp teeth. I flick my forked tongue out in front of me with a murderous laugh. Drool pools out of my mouth as the scent of his wicked soul arouses my senses.

He jumps back and bumps into the wall with a terrified yelp. “It’s not Christmas yet, asshole! You can’t kill me yet!”

So, he knows who I am. “Is that so, shrimp dick? I am The Saint, and I can do whatever the fuck I want.” I take a single step towards him, and he flinches. Sweat beads coat his forehead as he tries to push himself farther into the wall. “You’re trapped in here with me. And you placed your hands on my human. Tell me your name,” I growl.

“F-fuck tha-at!” he stammers out.

I snort a laugh. “Tell me your full name, and I’ll let you keep your life. But you will be facing punishment for touching her—that is a promise.”

He’s damn near hyperventilating now. He flicks his eyes down to Cherise and then back up to my towering form. My powers hum through me. It’s almost December now, and I’m growing in strength each day that it draws near.

The lights flicker inside the room the more impatient I become. “You swear it? I’ll live if I give you my name?”

I extend my jaw completely, allowing my full set of teeth to show on display. “Yes,” I lie.

He covers his dick, cupping it in both hands—which wasn’t necessary, since it’s so small, one would have done the job just fine. “O-okay. It’s Kyle Diaz.”

I spread my arms and let a distorted demonic laugh fill the room and echo inside the tiny space. Kyle covers his ears and shouts at me to stop as I increase the volume to a deafening pitch. “Your soul is marked, Kyle Diaz.”

I dash before him, inhaling the richly sweet scent of his foul soul. He cowers against the wall, his whole body trembles, and his breathing is quick and uneven. “You promised you wouldn’t kill me, right?”

I snap my teeth in his face, and he squeals like a pig. “I lied,” I grin, slashing my clawed hand down his lower stomach, pushing deeply into his flesh, before running them down to his small member, severing it from his body completely. His blood squirts onto me and pools down his legs rapidly. Kyle cries in agony, tears stream down his tan cheeks, and he leaves his mouth wide open for me to violate. “Your soul is mine!” He shouts louder, his hands roaming aimlessly over where his cock used to be and smearing blood around his skin.

I shove my elongated, forked tongue down his throat, all the way down his esophagus, and deep inside his internal organs. He chokes and gags on my tongue, and I continue to laugh in his face with my low, distorted cackle. His eyes widen in pure terror as he feels my tongue roam around. He lets out a sharp grunt as my tongue whips around wildly, thrashing around in the damp cesspool of his organs as I rearrange them. His body jerks at the assault, and quick pants of pain are the only sound that escapes through his gagged mouth.

I dig my claws deep into his pectorals; blood stains my hand as it rushes out of him, and I begin extracting his soul from his body. I feel his life essence flowing inside me, and I can already notice myself growing stronger. A surge of strength flows through my hand, and I pierce his skin deeper while I claim him—every last piece of his deranged soul is now mine for eternity.

My tongue wraps around a section of his intestines—I yank it out of his throat—and I slurp my tongue back into my mouth. “What a wonderful early Christmas gift you’ve given me, Kyle Diaz.” The weight of his body goes slack—the only thing keeping him standing is my hand halfway inside his chest. Once the last drop of his soul enters my body, I remove my hand and let his mutilated body crumble to the floor—intestines pouring out of his mouth and strewn across the floor.

I hear a soft moan behind me, and I turn in a hurry to my little reaper. I heave a sigh of relief that she’s okay, unconscious still but unharmed. “What were you doing, my sweet sin? I can’t lose you so soon,” I whisper, threading my unbloodied claws through her hair, careful enough to ensure I don’t scratch her beautiful skin.

“Nik,” she murmurs.

I’m here, baby. Don’t you worry. I stand up and reapply my glamor, placing both hands at the top of my head and guiding them down. Once my human form is intact, I snap my fingers again to clean off the blood marring my skin, so I can walk out of here without looking like I just murdered someone. I lean down, scoop Cherise into my arms, and stroll out of the room.