Page 46 of The Devil's Trials

A quick glance around the room tells me most of the demons are feeding. The music is so loud the humans’ screams are drowned out, which makes it the perfect feeding den.

I watch for several beats, finding I have no desire to step in and help the humans. In fact, the pull to feed my own hunger is inescapable. I wasn’t aware of how much the first trial sucked away my energy until now. I suppose being surrounded by humans doesn’t help. It’d be like a human going grocery shopping on an empty stomach.

I move through the room in a blur, coming up beside Francesca. A growl tears from her lips before she realizes it’s me. Her eyes flicker between their normal color and endless black before staying dark. She grabs the front of my shirt, tugging me closer, and I reach out with my senses to feel the white-hot fear pouring off this guy.

His mouth has fallen open in a silent scream and his eyes are bloodshot as tears spill from them, soaking his blanched cheeks. His fear transforms into energy as it sinks into my skin, and I close my eyes, relishing in the way it takes over my entire body, washing away every worry and care lingering in my chest.

I only pull away when Francesca laughs, opening my eyes in time to watch the human sink to the floor, the front of his pants soaked with piss.

“Well, that’s disappointing,” I mutter with a sigh, stepping over his unconscious body, then offer my hand to Francesca to do the same.

She slides her fingers through mine without looking back at our discarded prey as we return to the bar. She motions for the bartender, who comes over immediately, and asks for a bottle of top-shelf tequila.

“Fran—”

“Fucking finally!” Blake interrupts, throwing his arm around my shoulders. “We’re doing shots, right?”

I glance between him and Francesca, then mutter, “It would appear so.”

Francesca grins, unscrewing the bottle cap and taking a long swig before passing the bottle my way. Without overthinking it, I take a shot, letting the liquor burn a path from my tongue to my stomach, warming it along the way.

Blake goes next, then smacks a loud kiss against Francesca’s cheek before shooting me a salute and sauntering back into the crowd.

“He’s so weird,” Francesca says with a laugh, swallowing another mouthful of tequila before the bottle ends up in my hand again.

I shrug, taking another long drink as my head swims pleasantly. “At least it’s mildly entertaining.”

“True,” she offers, tossing back her third shot.

Several shots later, we’re on the dance floor again. I’ve fully lost myself in the music and alcohol, and while the escape is devastatingly fleeting, I cling to every damn second of it. It’s a weak attempt at numbing the chasm in my chest that, despite feeding and drinking half a bottle of tequila, hasn’t lessened as I hoped it would.

Francesca leans into me, sliding her hands up my chest and leaning on her tiptoes. I dip my face so she can speak in my ear, loosely hanging onto her waist. “Where are you?” she asks.

I lean back to look at her, shaking my head. “I’m right here.”

“No, you’re not.”

I cock my head to the side. “What—”

She huffs out a sigh and grabs my hand, pulling me through the crowd. I let her for the sole reason of not wanting to be surrounded by all these fucking people any longer.

We walk down a hallway, past the washrooms, and into a private lounge at the back of the bar. There Francesca slams the door shut and crosses her arms over her chest as she stares me down.

“Why do I feel as if I’m about to be scolded?” My tone is heavy with amusement as I scan the room.

It’s small but furnished with two maroon leather couches and a glass coffee table, along with a matching, fully stocked bar cart off to the side.

“Is it working?” she asks, not a hint of sarcasm or humor in her voice.

I shake my head, perching on the armrest of the couch closest to me. “Iswhatworking, Francesca?”

“This distraction from whatever has you so twisted up.”

I chuckle. “Since when is partaking in shots and feeding a code for distraction?” I don’t move as she steps closer, but I lower my voice and add, “I’m simply following your lead.”

She drops her arms back to her sides. “You forget how long I’ve known you, Xander.”

I stand, shooting forward until I’m right in her face. “No, you seem to forget who you’re speaking to.”

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