"Don' be so grumpy angel, maybe you'll get a girl on your dick tonight." Mammon smirked at me before getting dragged away by two men, each in fits of raucous laughter.
A nightclub. He brought me to a damn nightclub. I knew I should have trusted the squirrel. Not to mention how he just left me here on my own as well. The smell of alcohol and sweat had permeated the entire club; there were flashing lights everywhere, even under the bar counter. What type of club was this? It was so lurid and, off-putting. My eyes flickered around the masses of people, red hues irradiating them. Hands were crawling around waists—some even going lower—whilst others were grinding their bodies against others like their life depended on it. Their roaring mingled in with the obscene music being played.
"Would you like a drink?" a woman asked softly. Her mouth curved into a smile as I turned on my heel to face her. She wedged her breasts between her forearms, and rested her chin on her palm. I shuddered, lowering my gaze.
"No thank you, I'm alright," I answered, about to turn back until she swiftly seized my wrist.
"Come on! You're supposed to have fun, and plus it's on the house," she cajoled, the grip around my wrist loosened as she gestured for me to sit down. I was hesitant, but quick to sit on the black swivel stool, considering my options. If I were to stay in this damn nightclub, I needed to be anything but sober.
"Well, what would you like? I can make anything."
"Surprise me."
She set a circular glass cup down in front of me before heading towards the back-counter. The beverages were neatly displayed on the shelves for people to choose from; each type of alcohol had its own box-like shelf and were put to one side whilst the sodas were put to another. I looked at the woman as she drew a bottle. She had this beguiling aura to her, telling me that she used the art of deception quite often. But there was something else, something more sinister. Her aura, not only was it tainted, but it had the spoor of a demon—and I knew it wasn't Mammon's. It couldn't be Zalgiur...surely not. Since this woman worked as a bartender, she could have easily made contact with the demon by unknowingly serving him.
I ought to keep an eye out for him.
The woman spun around, shaking the steel shaker as she strutted over to me, her heels clacking against the tiled floor. "So, what's your name?" She poured the yellowish liquid before putting a metal straw into the glass and spewing the crushed ice.
"Luka, you?"
"Sabrina, but you can call me Bri." She wedged a lemon piece into the ice, and placed a dark red cherry on top before pushing it towards me. I tentatively picked up the glass as Bri's hazel eyes bored into me. The aroma of lemons filled my nostrils as I brought the straw to my lips. Even with the lemon juice masking the taste, I could tell it was whiskey as it left a warm burning sensation on my tongue.
"Well, do you like it?"
I nodded, taking another sip to verify it. "It tastes pretty good."
"Yeah, it's a personal favourite," Bri answered before she pushed her blue hair back, exposing the tattoo of a snake spiralling up her salient collarbone and biting into it. I wasn't sure why, but it sent a chill down my spine. "I saw you come in with Dante, how do you know him?"
"He's my friend," I replied, moving the straw around the rim of the glass. Had she not had that strange aura, I would have told her that we were cousins.
"Friends...what type of friend ditches you?"
"He didn't ditch me," I averred, "he's just catching up with other friends."
"Still. You should be careful around him, he's bad news."
My ears perked up. Bad news? I didn't want to think of the horrendous things he might have engaged in. I was curious but, I would rather hear it from him than someone who seemed to hold a distaste for him.
"We've been friends for a while. I'll be fine." I glanced down at the ice-filled cup, exhaling quietly.
"Make sure you are, I wouldn't want someone as cute as you to get hurt." Bri placed her hand on mine, the coldness of rings startling me slightly. To get hurt?
"How do you know him?" I asked, handing the attention to her.
"He's a regular at this nightclub, and it's a small town Luka, everyone knows each other." She smiled. "Speaking of that. I don't think I've seen you around here, are you new?"
"Sort of? Me and Dante go way back but I recently moved here, so yeah."
"Oh? Really? Where'd you live before moving?"
"Munich."
"That's so far! Well, you know I could show you around sometime."
"Sounds good, I've been meaning to explore the town," I answered before taking another sip.
She nodded happily. "Why don't you tell me about yourself?"
Damn it. I was hoping that she wouldn't ask that. I would much rather talk about Mammon than about myself. What was I even supposed to say?
"There's not much to know about me." I laughed it off but she pouted at my response. "Why don't you start?"
Bri's eyes sparked with delight as she lowered herself on the counter, her chunky chain earrings hitting off of her neck. "Hm, okay! Well I'm twenty-five, turning twenty-six in March. My favourite colour is definitely blue and I usually spend my free time in the ring."
"In the ring? You mean you're a boxer?"
"Yeah, a pretty good one too!" She exclaimed proudly. "You should come with me one day, I could teach you a lot about...boxing."
Her lips contorted into a sly smile, made visible by a purple hue illumining her face. I casted a curious glance to the rowdy crowd behind us, completely ignoring what she had just said. Honestly, I wasn't interested in boxing—or her. She was beautiful, but definitely not my type; my type was probably someone like Kallista—sweet, caring and cute.
"They sure are lively tonight."
"They always are. It's not even that bad right now, just wait until the others come."
Her words for some reason reminded me of Mammon; I had to check up on him, the Lord knew what he could have been getting himself into. I rose up from the stool, cupping her hand that was still on mine, "That reminds me, I need to go check up on Ma-" I could feel my heart drop to my feet as his name nearly came out of my mouth. "Dante, to make sure he's not doing anything stupid."
"But he's a grown man Luka-"
"Yeah but not when he's drunk." I gave her a tight-lipped smile as I ambled towards the mass of drunkards. God, how was I going to get past? I shoved myself through the crowd, putting my hands in front of me so I could get through easier.
The music changed abruptly, altering most of their movements. People were pressing against my body, some even dancing on me. Oh god. This was obscene; absolutely diabolical. A night club was the last place I would ever want to go. Various prayers began bouncing around in my mind as I felt my shirt lifting up due to the amount of moving. I really hoped that the Lord would forgive me for this. I pinched the bridge of my nose. The pervasive smell of alcohol and sweat was even stronger now, making me regret leaving the bar even more. Did I really have to check up on him? I sidestepped away from them before continuing to weave myself through.
I shouldered through the remaining people, almost tripping on someone's heels—it was extremely hard to see at first but improved as I got closer to the end. Finally, I wouldn't be trampled on. I sucked in a big breath as I stepped down from the dance floor, eyes flickering from table to table. There he was, his arm resting on top of the round seat. A woman straddled his lap, pouring alcohol into his mouth sloppily. The two men from before were cheering them on as he swigged. I grimaced. I didn't want to walk over to the group but I had to, for Mammon's sake—mainly mine though. Having to take care of a drunk person is not fun, and I would know since I always had to tend to Silas's hangover since Ezekiel refused to do it—even though it was his brother. I sidled over to the table uncertainly, bracing myself.
Mammon swiped his mouth with his wrist before waving at me, his lips forming a lop-sided grin. The other three turned their attention towards me. The girl swiftly got off Mammon's lap just as the blond man reached for my arm before pulling me into the spot beside him, "You're Dante's cousin right?"
"Yeah- I am."
He slung his arm around my shoulders and grinned, "It's a pleasure to meet ya, I'm Cla-"
"Claude, get your arm off of him! You're making him uncomfortable," The girl with the fringe chided, crossing her arms as she slumped beside Mammon, anger written all over her face. Her hair was pretty short, only coming down below her jaw with one side tucked behind her ear. Unlike Mammon, she had no ear piercings.
"No I'm not! Right?" Claude turned to me, his eyes pleading with me to back him up. I nodded, smiling at him as his expression softened. "See!"
"Yeah whatever." The girl stared at me, her eyes sizing me up, "I'm Sorra and he's Nikolai."
She pointed towards the man seated on the other side of Mammon before fixing her fishnet sleeve. My eyes trailed past Mammon—who was heavily intoxicated—and landed on Nikolai, with his swept back hair. The flashing lights made it quite hard to see, but I could discern a diagonal scar near the corner of his lips. I waved as his eyes met mine for a split second before ripping them away and shuffling in his seat. The aura he had, had hints of uncertainty and discontent in it—similar to Mikkel's. Though, his aura could just affected by the alcohol—I was not too sure.
"Sorr- Oh my god you're red! Wait now you're purple, what the fuck-"
"Please tell me he's not drunk," I asked, feeling slightly disheartened due to his rambling. Mammon being drunk to the point where he didn't know what LEDs were, would cause problems for the both of us.
The blond looked at me with his brows furrowed, "Well I don't really have to say it, i mean it's kinda' obvious that he is."
"He was being sarcastic dipshit," Sorra retorted. "You see, Claude's a bit fucked in the hea-"
"Am not! It's the alcohol."
"Sure it is Claude, sure it is. Keep using that as your excuse."
"Yeah well, at least I'm not as fucked as Dante."
"He got you there."
"See! Even his cousin thinks so. That's enough to prove that he's way way dumber."
Sorra shook her head disapprovingly as she muttered something under her breath. Mammon and Nikolai seemed oblivious to our conversation with the way they were whispering and giggling like little children.
"Your name's Lucas, right?" Sorra asked, immediately snatching my attention from the two men.
"It's Luka."
"Oh shit, my ba-."
"And you say I'm dumb! You couldn't even remember the poor guys name. So disgraceful Sorra," Claude interjected before tightening his grip around my shoulders and smiling at me. "Dante said you recently turned nineteen, am I right?"
I mentally facepalmed myself as soon as I heard nineteen. Nineteen, really? That wasn't even a hundredth of my actual age. I nodded, seeing as I didn't really have another choice here, "Not recently, I turned nineteen like three weeks ago."
"Damn really? Well happy late birthday!"
Sorra took the beer bottle and placed the cap on the edge of the table before smacking it, surprising us both, "Yeah. Here, take this."
The drink skidded across the table causing the amber liquid to slosh slightly. I stared at it, unsure of whether I should accept it or push it away.
"First time drinking?" Claude asked as Sorra scooched closer to us, clearly not wanting to associate herself with the two giggly men. I shook my head, "No, it's just- I don't wanna' drink too much. It'd be irresponsible of me and I had a drink at the bar earli-"
"Another drink won't hurt-"
"You're only saying that 'cause he's more responsible than you and he's two years younger than you," Claude interrupted, making Sorra screw up her face at him. She was twenty-one?
"Shut up. Luka, you'll be fine. Take it as a warm welcome to our...group."
"Wait...are we inviting him to our ga- OW, what the fuck!" The blond clutched his knee in pain and began rocking back and forth in his seat, all while fake-crying.
"Claude, are you alright?!"
Sorra however, didn't even feign shock nor was she visibly concerned about her puling friend, "Oh Claude's fine, he starts talking crazy when he's drunk. A good kick to the knee fixes it!"
What? I had never heard of kicking someone's knee to bring them back to their senses. (Though, that could have been helpful a long time ago.) "Uh...okay."
"She's crazy man," Claude whispered as the woman slouched back and began scrolling through her phone.
"She's not crazy, she's just-"
"Gay!" Mammon interrupted before bursting into laughter, receiving himself a snarl from Sorra. Nikolai snorted with laughter before hiding his face in his hands.
"Dante, if you weren't drunk right now, I'd be ripping out all of your hairs individually."
"Whaa? All of my hairs?"
"Yes."
"Even down ther-"
Her glare was enough to make Mammon shut up, but also snicker to himself.
"To think you're related to that freak, I feel bad for you," the blond whispered, his breath tickling my ear as his gaze stayed on the two.
"I feel bad for myself too." I didn't know what Mammon told them, but they all seemed to believe that I was his cousin—I didn't know about Nikolai since he was so quiet. I was a bit anxious though. Mammon was drunk which meant that he could slip up at any second, and I didn't think they were demons either—their auras weren't as overwhelming as the average demon, nor was it as welcoming as an angel. They were, without a doubt, human. Even if they thought that the raven-haired was just speaking gibberish, I couldn't let even the smallest ounce of suspicion wander in the back of their mind. "I should probably take him home now."
Mammon gasped as soon as he heard me speak, and straightened his shoulders before staring at me wide-eyed, "Huuh? Take who home?"
"You, Dante," I replied, rubbing my forehead.
Sorra's face immediately lit up as she mumbled a "finally."
"What? Naah, I don't wanna' go."
"Yeah, you should probably take him, I don't want to deal with his drunk ass the whole night." The blond and I both watched as he began flailing in his seat.
God, this was going to be hard. I got up and stood beside Nikolai, who was trying to drag Mammon out of his spot but instead of complying, he flopped on his lap.
"Claude, where did your rich people manners go? Go help your twin," Sorra scolded as she glared at the raven-haired, flopping about as though he was a fish washed-up.
"Twin?! I'm not fucked up in the head like he is!"
The woman grinned, "I never said that! You did, dipshit."
Huffing in response, Claude quickly shot up before jogging over and hauling him up. I placed his arm around my shoulder, hunching under his weight as the blond passed him over to me. Goodness, he was heavy. How was I going to carry him all the way to a taxi? "Thanks Claude."
"No worries. Oh and here." He flashed a torn piece of paper with his number on it before shoving it into my pocket. "We'll catch you later?"
I nodded before lumbering towards the dance floor. The raven-haired kept attempting to remove himself from my grasp, which ultimately failed as he was too drunk—but I was sure he would be satisfied with making things harder for me.
I thrust myself into the inebriated throng as the raven-haired compressed me with his weight, veiling me from any confused looks. Even in their condition, they inched away, creating a path, as they saw the two of us coming closer. But, that had stopped once we reached the middle of the crowd. The people dancing here, were a complete different species—taking us as just fellow drunks, and even dancing on us. I gulped, incognizant of what to do, and then I could feel Mammon's arm slipping from my shoulders. My body was relieved, but all his weight had fallen over my mind. I whipped my head to the side, but there was no raven-haired beside me. His aura blended in with those of other humans, like salt and water.
"Dante?" I called out, although compared to the howling, it was just a whisper. Where could he have gone? I attempted to bulldoze my way through to find him, but that had gotten me only so far.
"Dante-" I paused. A downpour of sweat was what I felt. Two hefty arms had found their way around my waist, bringing me uncomfortably close against whoever's body was behind me.
It wasn't Mammon's arms...
"What the hell?! Get off of me!" I shifted around ferociously in the man's grip, but could scarcely move due to how dense this rabble was. I turned around slightly, to get a good eyeful at the culprit before my knuckles had saluted his jaw. I couldn't use my powers, and I wasn't trying to have his forceful grip leave an unrequested mark.
"Calm down. I don't want your fragile little body to get bruised...," he slurred, a smirk stopping the alcoholic air from fleeing. The man had side swept hair—the colour of it changed every second because of the lights—with strands that were attempting to capture me for him, and a dark stubble forming under his chin.
"Well, that wouldn't happen if you were to get off!" I barked at him.
"You're feisty, you know that?" the man muttered. "I might have to teach your cute ass a lesso-"
My lips were parted by shock when a fist cannoned the man's cheek, which resulted in his body gravitating to the dancefloor, taking his arms with him. What just...
Fraternal gasps replaced the screaming, and people rapidly moved back from us lest they become the next victim. A red impression of knuckles was left on his cheek, as though it was clay, and blood was dripping from his nose. "Dante..."
Mammon was standing over the groaning man with his knuckles blushing, and aura warning me of his bloodlust for the man. A type I had never seen before—rather, felt. I could always see the bloodlust prowling in the eyes of demons, yet I could never feel them. But this...was different. I could feel it, and for some reason, it was comforting.
This aura, was it because of me?...
He swooped down to strike him again, but I quickly grabbed his angered arm and started running. I was grateful to him for saving me and the least I could do, was get him out of this mess and to his apartment. We hurtled sloppily down the newborn path before hopping off of the dancefloor. Though, I didn't need to do much—everyone appeared afraid of the raven-haired. Others were just staring at the unnerved crowd with confusion, unaware that the two of us were the cause.
"Luka!"
I looked to my left, just to see Bri waving at me, her joyful expression turning into a lour as soon as she noticed Mammon flattening my shoulders. The brown-haired on a stool before her, glanced back at me—lenses veiling his eyes like brides. I gave her a small wave as I pushed open the door with my shoulder, the bordered lights shining on my face. I could hear the maltreated man starting to raise a ruckus. I sighed. At least it would deter him from groping anyone else.
Mammon groaned as we exited, "It's too cold, I wanna' go back in."
"We're not going back in after what just happened. Do you want my jumper instead?"
"Ew no, you have cooties," he said, dragging out the vowels. Cooties, seriously? I was convinced that whenever he drank, a seven year old possessed him.
"No I don-" The raven-haired stumbled over my shoe, nearly falling to the ground before I pulled him back up. "Be careful!"
He just grumbled as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder tighter, resting his head on my shoulder. I sighed, before waving to the taxi coming down the street. The driver stopped his car right in front of us, the headlights flashing yellow hues on the void road. Finally, we would be getting out of this rotten place.
"Angel...," Mammon mumbled as I lugged him to the white car.
"What?
"I...love you."
I stopped in my tracks immediately. What? Mammon loved me? No, there was no way. We were both guys, and I wasn't gay. I wasn't capable of loving a man, let alone a man who a demon. He didn't strike me as that type either—I mean he had a woman over at the apartment a few days earlier. He was probably just drunk. Yeah, that had to be it! Whenever Silas was drunk, he would always talk gibberish. (I mean, he had never told me he loved me, but that was besides the point.) He was drunk. That was it. I shouldn't be stressing about this.
The car honked it's horn, withdrawing me from my turbulent thoughts.
"Shut up, you're just drunk."