Page 55 of Demon Demands

“Aye, for cliff notes.” He shrugged. “It’ll work.”

“Uhm, unrelated, but what the fuck is in that glass cabinet?” Vaughn inquired, causing my guys to look around the room.

The cabinet was in the hall, outside one of the archways that led to the dining room. I didn’t even need to turn around to know what he was asking about. “Souls I’ve collected.”

My fae nodded in acceptance. “And what is stacked on top of it?”

I rolled my eyes. “Skulls, obviously.”

“Why?” He asked in bewilderment.

“So I can make a bone throne out of my enemies like I read in this book one time.” I deadpanned, but that actually wasn’t a lie. I had big plans for those skulls.

Briggs cocked his head, furrowing his brow as he searched my face for the joke I wasn’t telling. “What the fuck?”

York scrubbed his jaw with his hands. “Just... why?”

“Because she’s the devil,” Stone mused, his lapis eyes marveling at my depravity. “Why not?”

If that wasn’t the perfect ending to our conversation, then I didn’t know what was. I stood from my seat, Hyde following behind me as we picked up the plates and silverware from breakfast.

York, Jack, Grim, and Dolyn all chortled while telling the rest of my guys about the weird shit I collected. Souls, skulls, teeth, bullets. All of it could be found in the home we had started sharing on Earth.

I was tremendously thankful that my mates had gotten along with Jack and Grim, but even more so with Dolyn and Hyde.

Over the years, they’d been through all of my ups and downs, the good, the bad, and the flat out psychotic shit that I’d done. Adding to my inner circle of friends might not be so terrible. But those four? They were part of my foundation, an integral part of who I was as a whole.

15

Sloane

Thursday Evening

I was starting to get itchy after all the heavy bullshit we’d talked through since we’d been in the Underworld. It wasn’t an itch that I could properly scratch, either. Just under the surface of my skin, my demon rubbed against me like a cat needing all the attention. I wanted to roll my eyes at both her and myself.

Bitch.

I couldn’t even explain why I hated letting her take control. I knew she was more protective than I was, which was really saying something. She wouldn’t let anything touch our mates without removing said threat's head. And heart… and tongue.

Every time she kicked me from the driver’s seat of my own body, she left some interesting gifts to make up for it.

It was so much easier to remain in control when we weren't in the Underworld. Once we crossed realms, keeping her contained was a fifty-fifty chance.

She’d already been out more than I’d care to admit aloud, but so far, she’d been on her best behavior. Which, hindsight being what it was and all… I was pretty fucking proud of her.

Us.

I’d been terrified that my mates would freak the fuck out, run screaming for the hills, and then she’d chase them — and I didn’t even know what she’d do from there. Tie them to chairs until they stopped freaking out, maybe?

She wouldn’t hurt them physically, I knew that with every fiber in my being. But emotional distress? I couldn’t honestly answer that.

Feeling her claw against my mind was an answer, though. That was her way of disagreeing with me. So, she wouldn’t hurt them, period.

Good to know we’re on the same page.

Going out was both a great idea for stress release and a terrible, dreadful idea with how antsy she was getting. I would love nothing more than a few shots of tequila, possibly the whole bottle.

My demon craved fear. Bloodlust was her default mood.