Demon Turned Lover [BxB]

The alley

"The alley."

I frowned at his curt reply, but was soon distracted by the dim light up ahead, and the cacophonous talking.

"Dante!" a shrill voice exclaimed.

"Dan? What are you doin' here?"

I peeked over Mammon's broad shoulder, and was greeted by disbelieving shrill gasps, and the paling shock that stood before them, taking their limelight. Sorra, and two other women were the emitters. Nikolai didn't seem surprised, and kept his body to the brick wall near the umber door—the circular light source just above it. There was a short blonde woman leaning on the door, her back to us as she gave us a sidelong glance. My eyes widened as soon as my mind had recognised her emanations. That aura...it was hers?

The woman with golden brown skin threw her condescending eyes at me; her hazel green eyes were sharp, and I could instantly tell she would exploit them to make others feel inferior. "Sicras! Why the hell did you bring someone else? You know this ain't the spot for-"

"He knows about it," the raven-haired interrupted the tall woman, shrugging it off before using his hand to push me forward. "He's not gonna' tell anyone."

"And how the fuck do you kno-"

"He's my cousin, Natalie, not a fuckin' stranger," he retorted at the ruffled woman, who looked at Sorra—who was sitting on a larger green bin beside the door—for an intervention. She had thick dark brown locks, that seemed to go a little past her shoulders, sourcing from her head and beauty marks darted on her face—one beside her right eye, one beside her full lips, and another floating over her left brow.

"Knock it off Nat, you're scaring him," Sorra responded to her call, making her sigh out of frustration. Her fashion sense, I had noticed, was quite trailblazing. Today, she wore a cropped black leather top with four black belts fastening it, and flared jeans.

The dirty-blonde woman made a product from the time Sorra spent heartening Natalie, by prancing over to Mammon, her austere white skirt bouncing a bit too high. I bagged a glimpse of the heart tattoo under her left eye as she did, and could feel the perturbation permeate my stomach. She was the woman who was in Mammon's bedroom that day!...

"You're not really leaving Crimson, are you?" she whimpered, wrapping her lean arms around the raven-haired's, and pushing it in-between her breasts. A pang of envy struck my core as the woman peered up at him with come-hither eyes. I felt worried, mad. She wasn't at his apartment for no reason; what if he still had the residue of his feelings for her?

Disgust rippled across Mammon's face as he glared her, "Andrea, get the hell off me."

"No! You need to tell me why you're leaving so suddenly..." Andrea—who had only came up to his shoulder—dragged a finger down his chest as she gazed at her manicured dusty rose nails.

Mammon scowled at her before looking towards Sorra, and Nikolai, "Where the fuck is Victor?"

"Right behind you, fuckwit." Everyone, including I, had poked their heads in the direction of the deep voice, coming from behind him. A tall, and muscular man, the raven-haired's scowling partner, was approaching us, his tan fists clenched—white bandages were wrapped around both hands, but they didn't seem to be there because of an injury. His appearance...was weirdly similar to Mammon's. (Victor's black hair was styled just like the raven-haired's, messy and parted vaguely in the middle.)

"Not good to keep your guests waitin' Victor. Didn't Vogel teach you anythin'?" Mammon remarked angrily.

His noisome air got closer, and closer—I detested every second of it. Every single alarm bell installed in my capacious head for this very moment was ringing. Victor was the one who had spied on us in the forest, and because of that, his aura had been disloyal. It reeked of violence, yet a fascination rented my eyes.