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10
Joy
Center?Mate?
Obviously, I know what a Center is. I live with angels, for fuck’s sake, and every angel flock wishes to find a Center of their own. Apparently, it’s a fated mate and the only thing in all of the universes that can make a group of either angels or demons vulnerable.
And to hear that these demons think that I’m their Center…
It’s ridiculous. They’re lying. There is no way in hell that I’m the Center to a bunch of demons attempting to destroy my home and family. Anger momentarily darkens my vision at the thought that these men could be using me, but I shove that emotion beneath the proverbial rug. I need to be smart about how I play this. Either they’re pretending that I’m their Center to lure me into a false sense of security and comfort, or…
Or they truly believe that I’m their Center. And if that’s the case, then I may be able to use that to my advantage.
The tears dry up as quickly as they arrive, and I straighten my spine almost imperceptibly as the demons return from their huddle. My lips twitch before I can stop them, because for a moment, they looked like one of those human sports teams attempting to make a gameplay. You know the one…with the tight pants that make their asses look amazing. I may have become a huge American football fan because of that. And I also may have banged a few players, becausehello.Tight pants, chiseled asses, and abs begging to be licked? That’s any human’s wet dream, even a half-human like me.
“Joy,” one of the demons begins in a placating manner, taking a few steps closer until he’s directly in front of me. I try to stand my ground, try to keep my chin up, but I wobble backwards a few steps until my back is against one of the potently-smelling pine trees.
His face falls, but he stops a few paces in front of me. I can’t help but notice that he appears to be the leader of this ragtag group, with sandy-blond hair that frames an angelically beautiful face. Glasses—he must’ve found a pair of them inside of the cabin—slip down his nose as he tilts his head to the side and stares at me. The intensity of his gaze is unnerving, and goosebumps skitter up my spine.
“Don’t…” I warn, my voice shaking slightly. I don’t know what I’m warning him against, but either way, his expression shutters even more.
“My name is Cal,” the demon continues, his middle finger lifting to push his glasses back up his nose. “And I’m a white lie demon.”
“White lie demon?” I wrap my arms around my stomach. “What does that mean?”
“It means you never hear an honest word out of that fool’s mouth…except for when he’s talking to you, apparently,” the largest man responds in a lilting accent. He has the reddest hair I’ve ever seen, cascading to his shoulders like fire. His eyes glimmer mischievously as Cal’s own gaze hardens.
“Nico…” Cal warns the large man, but Nico simply throws his head back in laughter before turning towards me. I swear his expression softens, and the lazy demon’s words from before replay in my head.
“We’re all desperately in love with you.”
Is that true?
Do they…
Do they love me?
My head is beginning to pound as confusion and something akin to hope war for dominance. I smother each of the emotions before they can consume me entirely.
Theycan’tlove me. They barely know me. At least, I barely know them…though I don’t know what that has to do with them loving me.
You can’t even think coherently anymore, Joy,a snarky voice hisses in my head.
“Nico.” The redheaded Scot extends a hand, heat flaring in his eyes when I take it in my own. His is so much larger than mine, his palm calloused and riddled with scars from when he was a reindeer. “But you probably know me as Donner.”
It makes sense why he can scar,I think to myself unwittingly.If I’m truly his Center, those scars would be because of his close proximity to me.
But I’m not. His Center, that is.
My heart hammers in my chest, threatening to escape at any moment, but fear keeps it adequately subdued. Until I figure out if these demons are friends or foes, I need to be on guard. I can’t allow them to sneak past my defenses. That would be the prime time to stick a knife in my back.
“I’m Dem.” This comes from the prettiest man of the bunch. I never thought I would refer to a man as pretty, but that’s what he is. He’s fucking gorgeous, a literal angelic work of art that people would tithe to. “The most famous reindeer of all. Comet.”
“Comet,” I repeat slowly, my eyes traveling across his perfectly symmetric face to his pale golden hair to his cerulean blue eyes, the color brighter than any I’ve ever seen before. My gaze lingers on his chest—bronze skin pulled taut over slender muscle—before I force it away. “You’re the one who always steals my cookies.”
“And your panties,” Nico adds helpfully, and I swear, the pretty boy demon blushes.
“I’m a thievery demon,” he confesses. “I can’t help it. I need to steal like Bryn over there needs to sleep.”
