Page 5 of Signed in Blood

Her laugh is intoxicating. The sweetest, purest sound I’ve ever heard. Closing my eyes, I allow her feminine cadence to consume me in ways I’ve never experienced before. The chill of the night air does little to cool the desire racing through my blood.

Just as I open my eyes, she rounds the corner with a friend, and I’m confronted with a type of beauty that steals my breath away. Her hazel eyes shine with a kindness I see little of. Her smile is broad and pearly white. It would be perfect if not for a tiny gap in the middle of the bottom row. Somehow the imperfection only adds to her beauty.

Her cheeks are flushed from the cold, and her long lashes are dark and thick. A puffy coat hides her luscious curves. I swear it isn’t my doing when she trips over her own black boots and cries out a gasp of shock.

“Lilith!”

Lilith, I repeat in my mind like the symphony of my favorite ballad.

The woman has a name. And it’s one I don’t know. Pure heart indeed.

Lunging to reach out, I catch the woman’s small frame. Her long brown hair brushes against my skin, the sensation is electric and addicting. One taste of her will never be enough to satisfy all the pleasure I want to give her. The desire to see her beg for mercy isn’t lost on me, and it’s rewarding. Now I’m fucking hard.

Her wide eyes look up at me as I help her stand upright.

“You okay?” I ask easily, with a casualness that hides the adrenaline racing through me.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” she apologizes.

For what? A smirk pulls at my lips. She’s one of those, a girl who thinks her existence is a burden and she must apologize for the slightest interaction or inconvenience. This feeling in my chest tightens as she looks down and then back up at me. Straight into my eyes as if she could possibly see who I really am.

“No worries,” I murmur, staring into her eyes.

The portal of her soul—her laughter and her pain—is a beautiful concoction as I drink her in. It only happens for a moment as she rips her gaze away and I realize her friend is speaking. I don’t listen to a word she says, too consumed with eyeing my prey.

“Where are you headed?” I ask.

“A concert,” she answers with an innocence that never leaves her sweet demeanor, although that can’t be said for her friend, who eyes me warily.

There are some women who are immediately attracted to my type of darkness, then there are others who can feel my type of evil and hide from it.

“Wreckage Rebellion?” I’m all too familiar with the band's members.

Here’s the thing about being Satan, I know everything and everyone, it’s both a blessing and a curse. I know your deepest, darkest thoughts, whether I want to or not. It comes with the contract of owning your soul. People have free will, but tempting them is my favorite part about collecting another demon to live in my kingdom. But I’m not able to easily grasp those who deny the temptation. These two… they are innocent. The band however, practically lives in hell already.

“Yeah!” Lilith says, and her friend grabs her hand. “Come on, Lil, we have to go.”

Lilith smirks. “We gotta go. Have a good night,” she adds, turning her back to me. I don’t miss the giggle and the way she peeks back over her shoulder for a second. I’m attracted from the moment I laid my eyes on her.

“Well, stay safe out there,” I warn them, raising my voice so they can hear me, “and have a little fun.”

“Oh, we will,” her friend shouts as they increase the distance between us.

It takes a moment for me to come down from the high that was Lilith. It’s been too damn long since a soul has interested me, and never one like this one. Perhaps I’ve gone soft, although my cock would disagree.

As she walks off, my crows caw again, and I look up at them. They’re pitch black, nearly blending into the dark night as I command them, “Follow her.”

Chapter Three

Lilith

* * *

Being caught by a tall, dark, and handsome stranger is the perfect way to start the night. Even if it isn’t a thing for him in the least, I feel…desired, and I ride that high for as long as I can.

He’s wearing an expensive suit with shiny shoes, smelling of whiskey and cigarettes. I know if I kiss him, I’d be tasting nothing but sin and bad decisions. His outfit matches the perplexity of his demeanor. I don’t know much about men, especially men that look like him, but I know how much I want to feel his hands all over me.

Heat consumes my body at the image of his body over mine, and a shiver makes its way down my body.