Nicolas had been outsideof the rundown skating rink where the Sentinels operated, but he’d never been inside it before. He clutched his coffee mug tightly as Ashmedai folded his arms around him, holding it between their chests with one hand and wrapping the other around Ashmedai’s back, gripping the supple fabric of his black cloak.
“Hold,” Ashmedai rumbled in his ear, and Nicolas tucked his nose in his hood, inhaling the forest mist and ancient stone scent that clung to him. The world around them went black, and his stomach bottomed out like he’d stepped into a fast-moving elevator.
Everything was so dark around them, Nicolas couldn’t tell when it all stopped. His stomach went back to normal, and his knees wobbled. He might have staggered, but Ashmedai’s arms held him steady. He raised his head, blowing out a breath.
“Not sure I’m a fan of that,” he said. “Where are we?”
“Rink,” Ashmedai said. “Dark room. Travel through darkness.”
“You can’t just appear in a brightly lit room?”
“No.”
The only things Nicolas could see were Ashmedai’s marigold eyes. Here in the darkness, there was no risk of him seeing beneath the hood to the face Ashmedai wanted to hide.
“Can you see me?” he whispered, placing his hand somewhere on Ashmedai’s chest.
“Yes.”
He slid his hand up, over the metallic clasp of the cloak and up Ashmedai’s bare neck. A low purr vibrated between them, sending a shudder rolling down Nicolas’s back.
“I love the sounds you make.” His whispered confession hung in the air between them as he traced Ashmedai’s face. The delicate shell of his ear, pointed at the tip like an elf’s, his soft cheek, his thin lips. Sharp teeth grazed his fingertips, warm breaths dampening his skin.
Ashmedai’s hands trailed down his body to cup his buttocks. “Later,” he rumbled. “Take you again. And again.”
Nicolas huffed out a laugh. “Good.”
“Come.” Ashmedai gently removed Nicolas’s hand from his face and used it to guide him through the darkness.
He heard a doorknob turn, and then light spilled in. They were, in fact, in a storage closet. Ashmedai gripped the doorknob but looked straight at him, urging him to step out first. Walking by him gave Nicolas one last whiff of his intoxicating scent, and his cock jerked in response. It was Pavlovian already.
This was ademon. How could he make Nicolas feel like this so quickly?
The skating rink was a legitimateskating rink. The actualskating floor was now layered with interlocking workout mats. Tables lined with various weapons sat against the mirrored wall. Nathan Accardi was there, organizing the weapons. A handful of wooden dummies were scattered around the floor. Isaac Morrow was throwing knives at one of them. In the middle of the floor, Luke Morgan and Alex Hawk sparred with wooden practice swords. Alex was grinning, looking carefree in a way no one at the guild had in months.
To his left was what might have once been an arcade and concession area. The snack bar was still there, though now the glass display case was cluttered with jugs of protein and supplement powders, boxes of granola and protein bars, and other various snacks like beef jerky and cans of assorted nuts. A drink fridge with a glass door hummed behind the counter, stacked with every drink he could possibly imagine. A halfling with long blond hair stood behind the glass counter, talking with another demon, dark-haired and wearing a suit. They both sipped from amber bottles. By the half-wall that separated the training floor from the arcade, a black-eyed demon chatted with a white-haired halfling.
An old air hockey table was the only relic of the arcade area, now redesigned with mismatched seating and tables. The ancient game was littered with papers, folders, books, and three different laptops, like a makeshift conference table.
And right there beside it was Julian.
Everything else faded away. Julian was like a little brother to him, and here he was, smiling up at Valac like he didn’t have a care in the world. Nicolas couldn’t remember him ever looking so happy during his time at the guild.
“Julian!”
The blond whirled, his face breaking out into a grin when he saw Nicolas.
“Nic!”
“How the hell did a paladin get in here?” the suit-wearing demon said.
Julian jogged over and slammed right into him, wrapping his arms around his neck. Nicolas staggered back into Ashmedai, whose gentle hands on his waist steadied him.
“Thanks for coming. We’re really at our wit’s end right now, and I’m hoping you can tell us something more than we already know.”
“Sure, of course.”
Julian led him over to the air hockey table, where the rest of them were gathering. He tried not to focus on the red or black eyes in the room, nor the way their gazes seemed to narrow in on the way Ashmedai lingered by his side.
