Page 45 of Sweet Violence
"Sure," I agreed, with no sarcasm whatsoever.2"Enjoy your day, Taj."
I strolled off, whistling.
Jeren was definitely smiling this time.
14
"Hello, Devvy Boy," I said, strolling viciously across the plush rug in the devil'sdrawing room.The rug was as detailed as a tapestry, showing a grand demonic battle and ominous black clouds blotting out Hell's sun. I gave it a second glance, noticing a giant red guy with three sets of horns and a loincloth1before I gave my full attention to the crimson man lounging in the high-backed chair near the fire, looking as hot as sin.
He was in his smaller form today2but still had the horns, claws, and fiery eyes, and the overbearing presence of power.
"One queen consort of Hell, delivered as requested," I said, unable to hide my grin as I leaned against the imposing black chair across the fire from him.
A glittering grey chandelier hung above us. Drawing rooms were meant to be light, airy, and pastel, weren't they? This one was black, charcoal, and ruby red, like some Hell interior designer had had a rough idea what a drawing room was but mostly improvised.
"They'refor you," the devil replied, his eyes pouring over me with scorching heat before they flicked to the other side of the room where a long, comfy-looking sofa blocked my vision.
I walked around it—and blinked at the pile of corpses leaking blood onto the parquet floor. Power hit me in a rush, so strong my body shook and hairs rose along my arms. I was already pretty full of magic from the first two massacres, and this violence threatened to overwhelm me with power.
I took a sharp breath, frozen where I was, looking at the six bodies with their innards hanging out.
"Babygirl?" Dev asked, rising to his feet and resting his broad hand on the small of my back.
"Never had so much power before," I bit out, tasting blood and fire on the tip of my tongue.
"Take a breath," he ordered.
I shot him a glare as he loomed over me, practically buzzing with worry and protectiveness, but I dragged air into my lungs anyway. A cool, sweeping rush of shadows moved from my head to my toes, taking the sting from my tongue and calming the shakes.
I glared at the devil even if I was glad he was here. Wait, no, it washisfault I had too much power in the first place. Crazy, murdering bastard.
"You were never meant to have magic," he said, patient, gentle. He ignored my glare and brushed my cheek with the smooth back of a claw. "Your human body is still figuring out how to handle it."
"I'm half-demon," I huffed, holding myself still so I didn't lean into his touch.
Dev made a sound, and gave me a heavy, sad look that made my jaw clench and my fingers inch towards my hidden knife. "Babygirl."
"I'm really not your fucking babygirl," I snarled, dragging myself away; the softness of his touch, his voice, and hiscarerubbing me the wrong way.
"You were born fully human. Half-demons have one demon parent, but yours were both human. The magic you have is demon in nature and origin, but it’s the result of Christian Lachesi's handiwork."
Dad's words came back to me, cutting like a scythe.You took to being a demon like a natural.
He said that and then injected me with the devil's blood. I didn't remember any injections before that, but there was a lot of time I'd blocked out.
And who was to say he hadn’t added a few drops of demon blood to my blackcurrant juice every day?
"Whose blood?" I bit out, struggling and hissing when the devil pulled me against him, binding his arms around me.
The comfort hit me like a freight train, but I refused to relax. It was instinct to fight, to refuse this, to not let a single bit of weakness pierce my shields.
"I don't know," Dev murmured, resting his chin on top of my head. "Lower demons he caught and tortured probably. I doubt there was any potency to the blood until he injected you with mine."
Now that he’d brought it up… "How the hell did an asshole like my dad getyourblood?"
The devil exhaled a quiet growl, hands flexing on my back.
"Him and his band of exceptional imbeciles got to my nephew. I can only presume they threatened his family, because he came to mepleadingfor a vial of my blood to save the man he loved. Even a drop of my blood has enough power to heal a wound, so a vial would cure the disease killing him."
