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Everyone has a story about where they were when the Demon King arrived. I was alone in my condo trying to swat a fly.
I had a strict no-news policy because the news was depressing. The world was burning. A mass shooting every other day. Political discord. Governmental nutjobs. I was already not excelling at life. I didn’t want to add to the shit with more shit.
Nothing is perfect in this world, and allowing something to show its cracks should be beautiful.
Autocorrect changes, “Congrats on getting married!” to “Congrats on getting murdered!”
Whenever I’d throw a mini tantrum when I was a kid, my mom would turn to the witnesses in the grocery store or the library and just shake her head and say, “She’s an Aries,” as if they should know that meant I’m stubborn and I have a temper and I hate being told what to do. And I do. I really, really hate being told what to do. I level my shoulders, bunch my hands into fists, and stare into those bright, bottomless eyes of the Demon King and say, “No.”
Laying my head back, I groan at the ceiling. How fucking ironic that right in this moment, I’m dreading another Josiah photo session when I literally just flipped the Demon King the bird? Maybe he’ll just forget about it?
After that, there were rumors that he offered the government a treaty—let him do what he came here to do, and he wouldn’t harm anyone so long as they didn’t get in his way. Since then, over the last several months, the Demon King has popped up all over the country, doing whatever he came here to do, but leaving most people to their business.
I’ve always been able to pause my anxiety and focus on the crisis at hand, but somehow this is different.
After she swallows the bite, she takes her coffee cup in hand. “Daddy said they’re working on a way to deal with Wrath. He won’t tell me what, exactly.” She pouts and then takes a sip of the coffee. “Daddy never tells me the important things. He says I can’t keep a secret, which is so not true.”
there are lots of rebel groups working against the Demon King with varying degrees of capability, insanity, and fervor. Take back our country from the vile heathen! is one group’s slogan. Another group, the Citizens Against Darkness, likes to hold rallies carrying handwritten signs that say things like, Don’t become a slave to evil! They’re the religious fanatics. And another group, Order of Alius, is promising End Times, that the Demon King’s arrival is some kind of prophecy coming true.
But for every group against him, there are easily two for him. It’s not hard to imagine Wrath being the winning side of whatever our future might bring.
As much as I like to pretend I can handle everything on my own, I would absolutely love having my best friend by my side.
“now that we know you can stand against the Demon King, it won’t be just Wrath that wants you.” I had no idea at the time just how right she was.
Moonlight shines on half the Demon King’s face as he throws me against the wall. This might be the rudest awakening I’ve ever had. Oxygen bursts out of me in a useless gasp as my eyes bug out of their sockets. He lifts me off my feet. Black mist trails off the Demon King’s shoulders, blotting out the silver moonlight behind him. “What are you?” he says. My feet pedal in the air.
He grits his teeth. His irises bleed to red and glow in the dark as black mist swims around us. His face sharpens, morphing into a monster right before my eyes. This is the true demon. The monster hiding beneath.
The Demon King is lying on an expensive rug in a beach cottage in Norton Harbor, and he’s lying there because of me. Except he doesn’t look as defeated as he should. And that’s when I realize I’m straddling him in nothing but an oversized Bob Marley t-shirt. Not exactly the attire of a warrior. “You’ve got me on my back,” he says. “Now what?” “Now? Now…you leave me alone.”
I fucking hate him, and I think we’re trying to murder each other right now, but I’m also dangerously close to wanting to rip his clothes off and fuck him until I can’t stand upright. What the fuck is wrong with me? He leans over and more of his weight comes down, and I can feel his hardness through his pants. Knowing that he’s as turned on as I am makes me feel fucking powerful.
It makes me feel greedy for more of him, even though it’s really the last thing I should be thinking about.
There’s a moment where I think this is the end. Where I think, hey, your stubborn temper really got you into some shit this time, didn’t it? You should have just fucking bowed. And then— The shadow soldiers shriek and pull back. I’m able to open my eyes and see and—holy shit. Light blazes in the room almost like it’s on fire.
I’m not so sure a safe place exists. I’m now the enemy of our enemy. And apparently the only one he sees as a threat.
“Every man has a weakness,” Adam repeats. “And the Demon King? You’re his.”
Of course, it makes sense now, considering he’s literally called the Demon King. And what do demons do in our very own lore and mythology? They possess us, steal our bodies and our minds.
“I’m a witch,” Eric answers. “And I put up a protective barrier around the building.” “Oh. Ha. Ha ha.” No one else is laughing. Even Adam. Stoic, no-nonsense Adam is standing there like Eric didn’t just literally call himself a witch. “What?” I say.
“You’re Rain Low,” he says. “Stubborn Aries, fiery queen. Of course you stood up against a villain. Remember when you socked Ben Hightower when he called me a fairy?”
“See? You’ve never backed down. And yeah, maybe it’s a mystery why you’re immune to the Demon King, but the fact that you have the balls to do it? That’s not surprising at all.”
Fear keeps us all in our boxes, locked away safe and sound. I think in a lot of ways, doing family photography is my safe little box. I whine and bitch about it, but have I done anything to change it? No. Because it’s safe. Because doing it means I don’t have to take any big risks, it means I don’t have to face failure, or discomfort.
“Like you’re always chasing a drug,” she would say, “but you don’t know what the drug is.” She’s not wrong. I feel like I’ve been searching for something my entire life, but I don’t know what that is, and now not only do I not have something better, I have something worse—a windowless room in a gutted factory and a very shaky future.
there’s something about Darren that makes my skin crawl.
You’d think he would have learned by now that I don’t like being told what to do. “I’d choose the Citizens,” I say, more out of spite than anything else.
Wrath stands beside an overstuffed leather side chair, his hands hanging by his side. His eyes are no longer glowing, and all of that black magic that trails off him is gone, but even so, even when he’s standing by as casual as can be, there’s something menacing about him that disturbs the air like he’s a volcano that could blow at any moment.
It makes my heart thump in the hollow spaces of my body, this constant closeness to something that could destroy me with such little effort.
He thinks for a second, his gaze going far away. I like watching him consider for me, as if my question has merit. It makes a faint flicker of warmth light in my sternum.
My heart drops to my gut as his anger becomes its own monster. I can literally feel it seething behind me.
I hear Adam’s words echoing in my head—you’re immune to Wrath, but I don’t think he’s immune to you. Before now, no one was safe when it came to the Demon King. I almost think the fact that I am somehow puts me in more danger. Or maybe the line between immune and dead is an extremely thin one.
This is a lot of information to take in while wearing only a towel after traveling through some portal through time and space.
“You don’t even know what you stand to lose or how hard Wrath is working to save your ass and this entire world and you—” She clamps her mouth shut, lip curling at the corner. “What?” I coax. I think Lauren’s spilled some tea I’d very much like to taste. I mean, I buried my head in the sand about Wrath for too long, and now that I’m in the middle of it, with no prospect of getting out of it, I need to arm myself with information. No one really knows why he’s here. This is the most I’ve heard of the details since he popped up months ago. But Lauren shakes her head again and turns for the door.
What is Wrath really going to do to me if I explore? Kill you. That voice in the back of my head is thinking rationally, but my gut instinct tells me something else. That maybe he plans to keep me around for now because he has yet to figure me out.
“Holy shit. You did that on purpose. You were probably listening the entire time.” He scowls and steps forward. “Contrary to what you may think, dieva, I do not spend all of my waking hours fretting about what you say or do.” “Could have fooled me.”
The Demon King drinks. I’d think silly mortal stuff would be beneath him.
I’m not sure if I should fold my arms over my chest to hide my boobs or arch my back to tempt him. A little thrill pulses in my clit.
For some reason, I look to Wrath, almost for reassurance. I hate that I do. And I hate that he knows exactly what that means. Instinctively, I want his approval.
“Rain’s book is blank.” “What?” I say. “What does that mean?” Wrath asks. Hands on her hips, Kat answers, “Any number of things. A binding. A shield. Some other kind of magic. Or…” She trails off, her gaze going distant. “Or what?” Wrath prompts. I can hear the faintest tremor in his voice. But is it excitement? Fear? Kat frowns. “Or I don’t know the language?”
“No,” I try again, because maybe if I tell these people no enough times, they’ll stop thinking crazy things.
“Thank you, Emery. Really.” I breathe out in a rush. “I didn’t realize until now just how alone I was feeling. It’s like there’s Wrath and all of this in one hand, and my life, my friends, and normalcy in the other. I needed something in between.”
Don’t test him, all right? If I give you any piece of advice, it’s that.” I frown but nod, and Arthur leaves me.
The fact that Arthur had to warn me not to test Wrath at all leads me to believe… I might be the only one who can.
It’s almost like I’m daring Wrath to try to stop me. Can he? Would he?
I don’t care if this man wants a Father’s Day card or not. I just need to know if he’s human. A chilly dread crystalizes in my chest. I might not be human. I might not be human. That can’t be true. Please let it not be true.
She air kisses by the phone when she picks it up again. “Be careful, please.” “I will.” “I always feel like that’s a lie when you say it, knowing you.” I roll my eyes at her, but she’s not wrong. Besides, how can I promise to be careful when a demon is after me?
“Wrath, is it?” the leader says. “You’re on a first name basis, huh?” “Everyone knows his name. It’s not like I have special privileges.”
