We landed in an alleyway tucked between two abandoned buildings and drew our weapons. A shade lurched toward me, its gaping mouth filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth. I sliced my blade across its throat. Two more jumped at me after that. I barely had time to cut one down before more were on me.
Shades might’ve been simplistic beasts who weren’t hard to kill, but when they outnumbered us by so many, fighting them off became more difficult. I couldn’t let my guard down, so I pushed Simon to the back of my mind for now.
I had demons to slay.
Chapter Ten
Simon
I sat on the porch for a while after Galen left, lost in thought.
Demons wanted me dead. Nephilim warriors who protected mankind thought it was too dangerous for me to return home. I kind of, most definitely, had a crush on one of them.
What would happen to me? To my business? I missed my dusty shelves and the odd knickknacks that covered them. I missed that stupid old desk in the corner of the shop that no one wanted. I even missed the annoying cuckoo clock that scared the crap out of me when it went off.
When the chill in the air became too much, I walked back into the mansion. The ache in my ass reminded me of a certain grumpy someone. I smiled, then shook my head.
Falling for someone like Galen would only hurt me in the end. Better to accept that now before I let my heart get carried away. Even if hedidwant more than sex, how could it ever work between us? He was immortal. We belonged in two different worlds.
“So you’re the human I’ve heard so much about.”
I glanced around the living room before seeing a man tucked into a corner nook.
He stood from the window bench and walked over to me, his movements fluid. Graceful. Brown hair fell to the middle of his ears, and his slender build had subtle muscle tones. His loose-fitting tank top hung off his thin frame, showing his shoulders and the tanned skin on his sides, and his frayed skinny jeans emphasized his long legs. He looked to be an inch or two taller than me.
And Jesus. He was beautiful. Maybe even more so than Bellamy, which was saying a lot.
“H-Hi,” I stammered. “I’m Simon.”
“I’m well aware who you are.” His emerald-green eyes studied me. They were surrounded by impossibly long, dark lashes. His ethnic features kind of turned my brain to goo.
“You’re Envy, right?” I asked.
“Daman,” he corrected, eyes narrowing. “I thought you’d be more impressive, but you’re average at best. What a disappointment.”
“Um. Sorry? I guess?”
“I wonder what Galen sees in you,” he said, though unlike before, his tone wasn’t bitter. He seemed genuinely curious. “He hasn’t wasted this much time with a human in centuries. Yet here you are, invading our private space.”
“He’s only keeping me here until it’s safe for me to leave.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, mortal.” Daman leaned toward me. “His scent is all over you. He wouldn’t have marked you if he planned on letting you go.”
“Marked me? What does that mean?”
“Ask him.” He cast me one final look before walking to his perch near the window, plopping back down on the cushion and focusing on his tablet. “Stop staring at me. It makes me uncomfortable.”
I averted my gaze from him. Castor was right. Daman had a major attitude problem. Was it because of his sin? An envious person wouldn’t exactly be a ray of fucking sunshine. Maybe he had no control over it.
Once in my room, I changed into shorts and a plain T-shirt before walking back downstairs and heading toward the pool area. The hot tub sounded like a great way to help me relax.
Lights illuminated the pool, and the reflection of the water bounced off the surrounding windows. I grabbed a towel from the rack before going over to the hot tub and stepping out of my shoes. Chills spread along my skin as I stuck one foot in, then the other, and slowly sunk chest-deep into the hot water. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, feeling my tight muscles begin to unwind.
What did Daman mean when he said Galen had marked me?
I touched the bite mark on my neck, one that remained tender beneath my fingertips. I’d thought he was just being a little kinky when he bit me, but did it mean more than that? Was it some kind of weird possession thing?
I thought of all the wolf shifter books I’d read—a wonderfully smutty guilty pleasure of mine—and how they’d do shit like that to mark their mates. Vampires did it too. But Galen was a Nephilim. I’d never read any kind of mythology on them.