Whether by design or mishap, the original fallen were never tethered to Hell the same way I was. His commitment to his duties kept him in service until one day, it no longer did.
The door to the office opens, and the scent of sex mixed with Lore’s arousal greets me before she exits the room. Her eyes are hooded, and her hair is a mess. She looks fucking gorgeous.
She scans the club until her gaze lands on me. It’s like an electric current straight to my balls. I’m striding over to her before I make a conscious decision to do so. Her head tips back slightly to watch me as I get all up in her space.
Egan exits after her, and he immediately assesses the bar area. His face is blank, but it’s a mask. If I thought he was dangerous before, he’s tenfold now, and I’m certain it’s because he’s been with Lore. He’s had a taste of what it’s like to touch heaven.
The bathroom door opens in my peripheral. Even though I don’t look, I know it’s the shifter. My lip curls in distaste when it becomes clear what she did after I left. Her sex reeks.
“What’s wrong?” Lore tilts her head to the side. Her eyes are astute as she moves her gaze past me to the woman walking away. She’s clever, already realizing the shifter is somehow responsible for the unease coming from me.
“Stop,” Lore orders loudly before I reply, and everything grinds to a halt. No one picks up their glasses or continues their conversations, but every head turns to look in her direction—including the shifter’s.
“Why do you look like you just smelled a pile of shit?” Lore directs the question to me. “What did I miss?”
I won’t lie to her or even omit the truth, so I confess like an eager child at the altar. “I didn’t have a handle on my demon, and she followed me into the bathroom.”
Egan
“…into the bathroom.”
Lore moves with the grace and speed of an avenging angel. Her clothing melts away, leaving her perfect stony form bare for everyone to see and admire. My breath catches when she pulls a kukri from her lower back before she wraps her arm around the woman’s neck. The shifter reacts on instinct, grabbing at Lore’s forearm, but she’s far too slow. Lore has already drawn the blade across the woman’s throat. Near the shifter’s ear, she snarls, “Do not fuck with what is mine,” in slow, measured words.
Lore releases the shifter with a shove, and she frantically tries to hold the gaping pieces of her throat closed. Crimson blood spurts at least two feet as she spins. I get a good look at the damage my mate caused. It’s not a single wound. A shifter might have been able to recover from that if they acted quickly enough, but she’s losing blood faster than her cells can work with the gashes slashed across her throat. The wheezing sound coming from her also confirms that Lore slit her windpipe, which means she will die slow enough for her to realize her error in judgment, suffocating while knowing nothing will save her.
Perfect.
Lore’s blade is still in her hand when she examines the room. Her leathery wings, tipped with spikes, nearly touch the ceiling. What a beautiful creature she is.
“I shouldn’t need to give a warning, but let this serve as one. No mercy will come for those who defy me. I’m not your fucking den leader who’s here to hold your hand. I’m the president of this club. You may think my blood is the only reason I’m in this position, but I assure you my father knew exactly what he was doing when he chose me for the role. The only thing awaiting you if you fuck up and try me is death.”
Lore pauses, making sure her message sinks in. These little skirmishes are bound to happen. Testing the mantle of a new leader is common, especially when that leader is ruling over a bunch of miscreants who think rather highly of themselves. The fact that she’s dealt with them swiftly and efficiently should negate the temptation of others to continue to push her.
“Deekhil, fetch Thana and her crew. They have a mess to clean up, and make sure they take special care to wash Modeus’ bike,” Lore directs as the female shifter finally falls to the ground after stumbling around.
The djinn tips his chin in agreement and moves his tall, thin frame swiftly toward the door.
“Make sure Sabastian and Rolk are here the day after tomorrow, we have a lot of shit to go over,” Lore tells the demon she calls Reaper. “You know how to get a hold of me if you need to.” With that, she saunters past the lifeless shifter with the prince and me following in her wake.
Once we’re outside, she drops her true form and is again a soft-looking female. As she’s about to straddle her motorcycle, she pins me with a stare. “I live in an old church off of Kline Square. The ground and building are still consecrated. Is that going to be an issue for you?”
I shake my head. Although I prefer the other way of communicating with her much better, this works when it has to.
“He wasn’t born damned,” Modeus informs her while casting his gaze over me. “Though he did forsake his mission,” he adds, as if he’s reminding me, and maybe I should reconsider strolling onto blessed ground.
I give another small shake of my head, conveying it doesn’t matter. I may not be accepted into the heavens if I were to die, but my soul is my own, at least for the time being.
The engine of Lore’s bike roars to life, and she shouts, “Try to keep up.” The small smile curling her lips makes me think she’s teasing, but I can’t back down from the challenge, and there’s a part of me that wants to show off for her and let her see how capable I am.
A low, loud boom claps seconds after I shoot off the ground and into the sky. I’m propelled hundreds of feet into the air, only to swirl around and descend nearly as quickly so I’m visible above her.
Her lips are slightly parted as she stares up at me with wide, awe filled eyes. It makes me want to kiss her again and feel her tongue against mine. Kissing is novel. While I’ve fucked many creatures, my sex education came from other fallen angels and demons, and kissing was never a big part of the pairing, since it seemed far too intimate for my liking. The exchanging of breath while being inside them seemed too much to give, like I would be offering a piece of myself, but not with her. I would give everything to Lore without thought of any consequence. She may well be the most dangerous creature I’ve ever met.
My cock hardens against the fabric of my pants as I think about her melting against me in a clear sign of surrender. Remembering how she let me pin her to the sofa almost makes me drop from the sky just so I can be closer to her. She may have surrendered, but she owns every piece of me.
Lore
Modeus getsoff his bike and helps me open the garage as if we’ve done this a hundred times. The familiarity is comforting and a bit strange. Egan flew over us the entire ride home, and he was near enough that I could often feel the whoosh of wind that accompanied the flapping of his wings. I haven’t seen him since we stopped in front of the garage, but something tells me he’s scoping the place out.
