“Maybe it’s just the taste thing?”
“It’s not. No humans have looked at me.”
“Maybe that’s because it’s dark in here.”
As if on cue, a woman approached Belial, wedging herself between them. “Hey.” She craned her head back to flutter her eyelashes at him. “Are you waiting for someone?”
The woman had spoken French—unsurprising, given that Montreal was a bilingual city—but they understood her easily. Demons could speak all languages as well as intuitively adopt the current colloquialisms of wherever they were. It helped them blend in among humanity and made them better manipulators.
Bel’s gaze darkened instantly, but he glanced at Ash. “Just talking to my brother.”
The woman turned and looked right at him before transferring her gaze back to Bel. “You want to dance?”
Belial was still looking at Ash. He was so tall, he just looked right over her head. “She sees you—”
“They always see me.” Ash switched back to English since that was the language they were most used to speaking. “I just don’t register in their minds as interesting. I might as well be cardboard. You know this.”
It wasn’t that he was ugly—he knew he wasn’t. It was just the nature of the damn curse.
“But—”
“It’s the same, Bel.”
“Damn it, I really thought you’d catch a break.”
Ash shrugged. He’d known nothing would change. “Go dance with the lady.”
“You wanna—”
“No.” No, he was not forcing himself on some poor human woman who would be no more attracted to him than she was to her dining room table. “I didn’t come here for that.”
“You’re a lust demon. You—”
“Wasa lust demon.” He’d lost that designation the day he’d been cursed. “Now go.”
With a sigh, Belial turned back to the woman, who fluttered her eyelashes again. They melted into the crowd together, Bel already bending down to whisper something in her ear that made her giggle in a manner that was, frankly, totally unappealing.
Maybe it was a good thing women here weren’t interested in Ash, because if all of them were like that, he was pretty sure he’d rather tear his ears off than listen to whatever noises they made during sex.
He leaned against the bar and got busy waiting for what was going to be a long night to pass. He wouldn’t begrudge his brothers their fun, nor would he leave the club in case shit went down and they needed his help. Just because they had successfully escaped didn’t mean they were in the clear.
Unauthorized Earth visits were expressly forbidden. Demons, with all their lies and manipulations, were always on special orders when they visited the human realm. Demons escaping their duty completely and leaving Hell unsanctioned? So against the rules, it wasn’t funny.
And yet, thanks to Belial being one of the most powerful beings in the underworld, the four of them had done just that. And now here Asmodeus stood, on sentry duty in a human nightclub, bored stiff, drinking alcohol that tasted like water and listening to music that made him wish his only properly functioning sense—his hearing—was as dulled as the others.
Just when he’d started losing the fight against his oncoming sour mood, something caught his eye. Up on the stage, a woman walked out carrying a violin. Taking over for the last DJ, she began setting up a keyboard beside the house turntables.
Her hair was wildly curly, falling to her shoulders, the top half tied in a bun on top of her head. Big hoops dangled from her ears, catching the lights in the club like diamonds. Her skin was dark, a similar shade to his brother Raum’s.
Her lips were full, and her eyes were big, almost too big for her face, but startlingly lovely. Not the dark shade he would’ve expected with her complexion, but an unusual light gray that was a striking contrast to her thick lashes. Or at least, they looked gray to Ash since he saw the world in black and white. But he didn’t need to see color to know she was beautiful.
And she would look at him like he was as sexy as a dishtowel.
Rolling his eyes, he forced himself to look elsewhere and forget the woman on the stage.
Until her set began.
Her music was still club beats, still pounding bass and electronic drums, but there was a symphonic aspect to it that was entirely unique thanks to the loops she was laying down live with her violin. His eyes were drawn back to the stage and riveted there.
