Page 37 of Truth Revealed

“Gotta play hard to get.” He shrugged.

Daria giggled and tugged him to her, wrapping her arms around his waist. Death was lean, so she could fit her arms completely around him, yet the muscles in his frame were obvious. “I’m glad you’re okay too,” she murmured.

His arms tightened around her once before he pulled back, leaned down, and kissed her on the cheek. He hovered, Daria’s breath catching in her throat. “Remember, I’m ready when you are.”

He leaned up and tapped her on the nose before retreating to the kitchen to grab his share of the light bulbs to replace.

Persy and Pain had come in through the backdoor, but instead of helping with the bulbs, they quickly left the other demons to it. Daria met her gaze curiously as Persy grinned, then she darted her attention down to Persy’s hand entwined with Pain’s before returning them to her bright green eyes. A blush colored her cheeks before she shrugged, and then they were gone.

Rolling her eyes at the two, she finally breached the kitchen entrance, only to find all the light bulbs had been handed out. Slowly, light returned to the bottom floor of the house as lamps and overhead lights were replaced one by one.

Daria must have spent too long staring at them, watching them laugh and tease each other as they put the house back to rights. Truth approached her with an easy smile, dipping down to press a kiss to her lips before meeting her gaze.

“Wanna sleep with Betrayal tonight?” he offered.

Daria bit her lip, cheeks flaming at the way the words sounded, but she shrugged, because… yeah. She did.

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “Don’t be embarrassed. Hell, knowing the guy nearly died almost makes me want to cuddle up to him.” His tone and words were light, but his gaze latched on to the other demon and stayed as some thought darkened his pretty blue orbs.

A laugh spilled out at the image of Truth trying to hug the brute that was Betrayal, arms pinwheeling as Betrayal held him back with one hand.

“Yeah… I’d like to see you try,” she said through the giggles.

His attention snapped back to her and the familiar ease of a smile curled his lips. “No, I’d like to see you try,” Truth retorted, and Daria’s laughs trailed off into silence.

* * *

And that was why Daria found herself in front of Betrayal’s bedroom door hours later, after the house had gone quiet and everyone had settled down.

She lifted her hand three times before she finally tapped the knuckle of her pointer finger on the door.

It flew open instantly, and Betrayal stood there with a scowl on his face, one that quickly dissolved into a visage of confusion. “Daria,” he said lamely. “What’s up?”

Resisting the urge to fidget, she licked her lips and dodged his gaze. “Hey, Betrayal,” she greeted just as stupidly. “Uh… I was wondering if… uhm, can I come in?”

His gaze shuttered, any and all thoughts or emotions he might have had successfully hidden from her. “Of course,” he responded and stepped back.

Daria took up the space he offered and entered the lion’s den.

Or at least that’s what it felt like.

Stop being so dramatic. You’ve already slept together.

Figuring the situation couldn’t be any more awkward, she waited until he’d closed the door and then blurted, “Are you okay?”

He faced her slowly, and she gulped when his brows knotted together in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Waving her hand in the air, Daria gestured to him. “Well, because… you know. You were attacked. And almost died,” she explained.

“Oh, that,” he muttered, and then stalked over to the bed before plopping down on the mattress, the frame squeaking in protest. She stood there awkwardly for a moment before following him and… yeah, she hovered. The decorative chair was all the way in the corner and no way was she going to drag it over to the bed or worse, sit in it like a creeper while they talked.

Yeah, because standing over him like a weirdo is so much better.

“I’m fine. It was no big deal.”

At his casual response, Daria was almost certain her blood pressure rose. “No big deal?” she ground out through clenched teeth. “You could have been decapitated and it’s no big deal.”

“Yeah, exactly. They didn’t even leave a scratch, see?” he countered, and pointed to his neck. His skin was smooth and only marked by the ink of his tattoos—no blood or scar in sight.