“Okay, Eva. Go for it.”
“Bye, Ash. Call me when you can.”
She hung up on him. He liked that she was decisive. He liked that she didn’t try to force a commitment out of him about when he’d see her next. He liked that she’d made him come so hard he saw stars just from talking about sucking him off. She hadn’t even touched him, and he’d gone to heaven. Well, as close as a demon could get, at least.
He couldn’t wait to get outside the apartment again.
11
Sacrifices Must Be Made
Belial sat in his room taking calming breaths.In,out, in, out. Inner peace. Calm.
Except none of that meditation shit worked on him because he was a demon. Demons didn’t have human souls that they could connect with through meditation and yoga. Thus, all his deep breathing and visualizing did shit all. Actually, it was often detrimental because it frustrated the hell out of him that he couldn’t control his fucking temper.
Well, he could control it abit. There’d been a time where the snap of a twig would’ve set him off. He’d explode, decimating anything and everything in his path like a freaking atom bomb. He was a lot better now, especially since he’d learned how to cook, but he still knew he was a basket case. His brothers knew it too, always tiptoeing around him, careful not to set him off.
The lack of control pissed him off. Angry at himself, he was thus prone to more fits of temper. The vicious cycle continued, on and on throughout the ages.
And now look where he’d ended up. From one of the most feared demons in Hell to a fugitive, questioning his purpose and existence, his mighty powers dampened while he was on the mortal plane.
Here on Earth, he was nothing special. He had a reputation, sure, but that wasn’t going to save his or his brothers’ asses if Hell caught them. Despite his issues, his brothers looked to him for protection, and he was damn well going to make sure they got it.
That meant summoning the last person in any of the worlds he wanted to speak to.
Bel grabbed all the dirty laundry off the floor and threw it on his bed to clear a spot for the summoning sigil, sketching out the complex design in chalk on the hardwood.
Under normal circumstances, demons couldn’t summon other demons. The one advantage clawless, fleshy humanity had over their underworld neighbors was their ability to summon and bind them to their will with Temporal magic. Thankfully, a true summoning was a near-impossible feat for the average human, and it rarely occurred.
Demons used Sheolic magic, however, and it served their own purposes. Wards could be drawn around territories to (mostly) keep out intruders, hellgates could be used for travel, requests could be made for meetings, and more. But the only instance when a demon could be summoned by another against their will was if that demon was bound as part of a bargain.
Such was the case with Bel’s summoning today.
After completing the sigil, he lounged on his bed with his back against the wall and waited for his visitor to appear. There was a whole lot of dramatic smoke and gusting wind—thankfully, all sealed within the confines of the sigil—and thensheappeared.
She rarely disguised her demonic characteristics, and now was no exception. One of the most legendary demons of all time, she saw no reason not to flaunt her true nature. In Hell and on Earth, she was worshiped and adored, a symbol of seduction.
She was a succubus, one of the Queens of Hell, a sadistic bitch, and... Bel’s sort-of ex. If the deranged affair they’d once had could be called a relationship. It probably couldn’t, but he had no idea how else to define their on-gain, off-again bouts of indulgence and aggression.
“Naiamah,” he grumbled, already regretting this.
“Well, hello, Belial. What an unexpected surprise.” She grinned from ear to ear, revealing a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Not just a pair of cute little vampire fangs, nope. Every single tooth was a pointed weapon that he knew from experience she wouldn’t hesitate to use. A pair of wicked horns curled back alongside her skull, and her hair was a shimmering curtain that fell to her waist.
She was clad only in a small strip of leather that hung down the front of her body, secured at her hips with chains fastened to a similar-sized strip down her back. The material flared slightly at her breasts, just enough to cover her nipples, and hung from more chains over her shoulders. Her pale skin was decorated with black tattoos of disturbing images—men being beheaded, monsters disemboweling humans, the usual shit—and she wore a delicate headdress of still more silver chains over her sleek, midnight hair.
She was a raging bitch, and Belial hated her with a burning passion. She was also indescribably hot, and unfortunately for Bel, his dick didn’t care whether he hated her or not. It just wanted to fuck her. And it often got its wish.
He had this terrible habit of screwing her every time he saw her, despite the fact that as soon as he was finished, he wanted to punch himself. He always told her he hated her and never wanted to see her again afterward, but she didn’t care. In fact, rejecting her had the opposite effect. Naiamah, being a psychopath, adored it and kept coming back for more.
She wasn’t desperate by any means—she had harems of demons back in Hell begging to serve her, and entire cults of male human worshipers on Earth who had these nasty masturbation rituals to summon her that she probably reveled in—but she was an attention whore, and she got off on watching his self-loathing increase every time he touched her.
She loved the idea that he couldn’t resist her sexual allure despite his apparent disgust. She thought it gave her power over him, and damn if she wasn’t right.
The truth was, Naiamah hated him as much as he hated her, and her primary objective in all their interactions was to make him suffer. She was punishing him for something he’d done over a thousand years ago, and for the control he still had over her to this day.
The worst thing was... a part of him knew he deserved it. A part of him felt guilty. A part of him might have even wanted to suffer a little.
Naiamah sauntered to the edge of the sigil and cocked a hip. She knew all his weaknesses and how to perfectly exploit them. She knew how to stand so her breasts almost spilled out of her dress, and she knew how to pucker her lips and toss her hair to get a reaction out of him.
