Bel still looked dubious, not that Ash blamed him. He’d felt exactly the same way. “What did she say?”
“She said I was the ‘hottest guy’”—he made little finger quotes—“she’d ever seen. She said she was so attracted to me, she ‘couldn’t keep it in her pants.’”
Bel burst out laughing. The fucker threw his head back and roared with laughter.
Ash cocked a brow, crossing his arms and leaning a shoulder against the wall, waiting for Bel’s little episode to pass. His casual act was all bullshit, though. He was trying to be cool about it, but in truth, he was climbing the walls, dying to get close to Eva again.
A week had passed since they’d met, and he’d spent every second of it waiting for them to get settled enough that it was safe to call her. They’d finished the wards last night. It was time.Finally.
“Damn!” Bel wheezed through dying chuckles. “She must really have seen you, then. But how?”
That was the million-dollar question. His brothers could only see him because they weren’t attracted to him, thank god. It was only potential sexual partners that looked at him like a piece of old drywall.
Except Eva hadn’t. Eva was attracted to him.
Oh, the things he wanted to do to her... He’d been up every night for the last week imagining it in detail. It wasn’t like he’d been celibate since he’d been cursed—he was a demon, thank you very much—but his sexual partners hadn’t exactly been passionate participants. In fact, his sex life was so stark and dissatisfying, he was surprised there wasn’t a special corner of Hell reserved for torturing people with his exact circumstance.
Then again, maybe there was. It wasn’t like he knew everything that went on in the Nine Rings where the souls of the damned were kept.
“It could be a trap,” Bel said. “I hate to go there, but it has to be said.”
“I know.”
“It’s the most logical explanation.” Bel flipped a pancake, focused on his breakfast endeavors. There was just something wrong with seeing a guy that enormous hunched over a stove, and yet it was his favorite place to be. “Trick us by sending the gargoyles—make us think that was their first, feeble effort so we let our guard down. But then this sweet little piece of ass creeps in on the side and lures you away.”
“Trust me, I’ve thought of all that.”
In the last week, they’d come across two more gargoyles before they’d finally nailed down a place to live and put the wards up, making them untraceable while they were within them. The Sheolic sigils drawn in blood all over the whitewashed walls sure looked macabre, but if they kept them hidden, they were worth it.
Their grungy four-bedroom apartment was in a rundown area several blocks from the hipper neighborhoods, so they hadn’t had much trouble bribing the landlord to ignore the paperwork.
They had plenty of cash—it was easy to exchange their wealth into Earth currencies at the underworld Blood Market—but they’d chosen to hunker down in this dump instead of choosing a more predictable option. Like, say, the swankiest house they could find with a ten-car garage and swimming pool. No one would believe four demons of the Order of Thrones would settle for such squalid living conditions.
“You admit it could be a trap.” Bel flipped another pancake. “Are you sure you should call her?”
Asmodeus cocked a brow. How to explain the lengths he was willing to go to have sex with a woman who was actually attracted to him? He decided there was no way to convey his desperation without embarrassing himself. “What do you think?”
Bel scooped a pancake up, tossed it on the plate, and then shot a glance at Ash. He snorted at whatever look he saw there. “Yeah, I get it. I’d probably do the same.” He waved the spatula. “Go on, get out of here. Be home by midnight or you’re grounded.”
“What?”
“Kidding, jackass. Been waiting for you to make some mom joke since you caught me in my apron, but since you didn’t, I had to make one myself.”
“Well, it was terrible. Almost as terrible as seeing you in that apron.”
“Get out of my sight before I spank you with this spatula.”
Ash headed down the hall to his bedroom, calling out, “Save me some pancakes.”
In truth, he didn’t give a shit about pancakes, but he pretended to solely because he wanted to encourage Belial’s culinary passions. It was a weird and gross feeling.
“When are you going to learn to cook your own damn meals?” Bel called back. “That’s what I want to know.”
“You love cooking.”
“Not for you, asshole.”
Ash snorted, closing the door behind him. That was a load of crap, and they both knew it. Demons didn’t need to eat unless they wanted to indulge for enjoyment’s sake, and as far as Ash was concerned, there was nothing enjoyable about cooking. If eating meant cooking first, he’d happily go without. Especially because, thanks to his curse, food tasted like nothing. He only ate to appease Belial when he wanted them to eat together like a nice little fucking family.
