Running With Devils

Twenty

"Morning, peaches," Destiel finally coughed, extinguishing his joint. "Sorry bout the lukewarm welcome. We didn't want to pester you with our— concerns."

"What is this place," I asked, looking around at the nicely furnished room with comfy leather couches and a huge pool table.

"For now, it's where you'll be staying, little witch," Malachi spoke up, stepping forward. "Just until we finish up our business here. Then we're going to take a little trip down south for winter."

His eyes shifted downwards to my breasts. I noticed the others had the same idea. I quickly folded my arms across, hiding my cleavage before they got any ideas.

"I would change," I swallowed, hiding the obvious pain in my voice with an awkward laugh. "But I'm literally homeless. So—"

"Fucking hell," the one strapped to the teeth with knives muttered. "Can't we just smoke the hunters out so I can kill something? Please?"

The other smacked his arm hard. "Are you serious? Read the fucking room, dipshit," he growled in frustration.

Malachi just looked at me.

"I'll need my heart back, Coralynn," he said quietly, just loud enough for only us to hear. "I need you to take me to it."

I shut my eyes tiredly. "Why?"

He stepped closer. "I'm not asking for my own sake," he said. "I'm asking this of you because I won't be able to help you without it."

I laughed bitterly. "Is letting my familial home burn down what you consider helping me? Is dragging me down to the Seventh Circle? I don't see how any of it is helping."

"Damn it, Coralynn," he said angrily. "If you'd just listen—"

"I think that's enough," the tattooed demon sighed, the piercing on his eyebrow lifting. "I'll take it from here, boss. I know how you are with the ladies. He can be a real charmer."

"Levi," Mal snarled.

"Come with me, darling. I think you'll much rather prefer my company," Levi said with a smirk, slithering an arm around my waist.

I quickly slapped it off. "No."

Levi just shrugged. "Fine. Come on. I may have a few articles of clothing in the lost and found."

Hell in a hand basket. This guy would not lay off.

"Fine," I said, tucking my hands beneath my arms.

"After you," he said smoothly, motioning me ahead of him. "Down the hall to the right."

It was like I had ultra instincts. I literally felt his eyes on my ass.

"Eyes up," I ordered sharply.

"Darling, I can't help but stare at perfection," he teased. "It's like staring into the sun."

"Great. I'm homeless and surrounded by horny homicidal maniacs," I muttered to myself. "My parents would be so proud."

"Aw. Don't be like that. I'm only trying to cheer you up," he whined. "What can I do, darling? Anything. Just say the word and it's done."

"Let me have my pity party in peace," I ground out.

"Stop," he said simply. "Here. Welcome to the pad."

He ushered me inside. My initial thought was about the taste of his decor. It was clean— precise. Nothing was out of place. For someone with his physical attributes, I halfway expected his bed to be strewn on the floor with pictures of playboy bunnies plastering the walls.