Chapter 9 : Does This Please You?

"I know Lust, pet…"

"King of Demons…Devil…Speculative titles."

"Brothers."

Our conversation looped over and over in my head, but those statements stuck. The sun peeked under the horizon, dipping beneath the vast ocean to my left. I was driving home, set to deal with my own personal demons, but I dreaded every second of it.

"This isn't what I really look like…"

Then what did he really look like? A deep desire, a thirst for knowledge…power…his power…fell over me. Somehow I was brought back to Church, sitting in the pews, crosses, and stained glass coloring the memory.

I never liked Church. A pastor dictating what I should or shouldn't do. What I should believe. I didn't like how they ostracized my mother. Calling her a jezebel, me a bastard. Judging us for something that wasn't her fault.

People from her church would still cross the street to avoid walking on the same sidewalk as her. It crushed me because I was powerless to help her.

I knew my mother loved me and did everything she could for me, but she never wanted me. I was dropped into her life and she gave her life up. Even at the end. When the car crashed into the tree, the branches broke through the window, slicing through the artery in her arm that she used to protect me from the impact.

My battered body wouldn't have survived one more strike. One more gash and it would have ended me.

But my mom needed community and felt like Church was the only place she could get it. Over time the snide comments lessened, but when I got older, I jumped at the opportunity to get a job and work on Sundays.

All those teachings stuck with me and buzzed in my head, like a distant reminder. I heard about the King of Demons. Somewhere. I knew something.

I knew who Orion was…I just had to find it.

I pulled up to a stop light, music from the radio thumping around me. Running a hand through my hair, I looked at the strip center next to me. Trying to find another thing to fill my time. Procrastinate going home.

It didn't feel like a home, though.

I don't know when it got bad. When Nova started to look at me as a ball-and-chain instead of a friend. When Deacon stopped loving me…if he ever did. I didn't realize the foundation of those relationships was shit until the cracks had already started to form.

But what did I have if I let it go? Nothing.

No one.

"There is no God here…only me."

He was in my head.

I dipped my head, knocking it on the steering wheel. I growled under my breath, veering back to look at the strip center.

Then I saw it.

Betty's Books…24-hr bookstore.

A honk sounded from behind me. The light was green. I pulled into the turn lane, whipping a u-turn and pulling into the parking space. I got out, stepping into the empty storefront. It wasn't unusual. Who would go to a bookstore at 9 PM on a weekday?

Me. That's who.

The shopkeeper popped up behind a stack of books on the front desk. "Hello! Welcome in!"

I stood in the doorway, looking around the store, stacks, and bookshelves everywhere. Much bigger on the inside. "Hi," I replied, stepping in and letting the door close behind me.

It smelled like moldy pages and old dust. The familiarity of it settled my shoulders.

"Are you looking for something?"

I gulped. "Do you have anything on Christian theology?"

The eager older woman nodded, "I sure do. A whole section in the back." She scurried behind the desk and waved an arm to show me to the section. "You look like a college girl. Is it for a research paper?"

A sheepish smile formed on my lips as I lied. "Yeah. Libraries aren't open long enough for my schedule."

She hummed, nodding along. "I've written letters to the city, saying they should stay open longer. I want kids like you to have access to books all the time. That's why I opened my own bookshop, you know."

"Get a lot of customers?" I asked.

"Enough to keep me in business at the best job in the world." She turned back to look at me and beamed. She stopped, pointing to a back corner. "Starting at this shelf all the way to the wall. I'll be here all night so let me know if I can help you with anything. Name is Betty."

"Thank you, Betty," I said, turning to the ten to fifteen bookshelves stacked from the floor to the ceiling. It would take me days to get through all that. "Actually…something more specific. What books have named demons in them?"

The shopkeep lowered her glasses to eye me incredulously. "You're writing a paper about demons?"

"Something like that."

She shrugged. "Look at shelves eighteen, nineteen and twenty. Any book that says demonology or mentions fallen angels is a good place to start."

"Fallen angels?" I echoed.

"In Christian theology, the first demons were fallen angels. Depends on who you ask."

I looked away from her to the stacks. "Oh. Okay. Thanks."

"Anything else?"

"A good place to get coffee?"

The old woman laughed. "I've got a pot in the back."

***

After Betty brought me a very strong cup of coffee, I got to work. Thick, old books stacked in front of me on a little table, skimming timeworn pages for anything. A few pieces of information here and there stuck out to me.

Like the myths of demons withholding their names from their victims because if you knew a demon's name, then you had power over them. Including the power to invoke them. Some said demons were fallen angels, or the offspring from those angels.

A culmination of everything nasty and bad manifested from mankind.

I thought of Orion, his golden eyes. Dimpled mouth. I didn't believe he was evil. But even these books said that sin would feel so good you wouldn't realize you were being corrupted until it was too late.

But I wanted him to corrupt me. I consented to it.

"...even my brothers abide by it."

Was Orion a fallen angel?

I flipped through a few more pages, sipping the dregs of my cold cup of coffee. I skipped through all these biblical stories. It wasn't what I was looking for. I must've been at it for hours, slowly running out of energy. There wasn't much about the angel rebellion right away, but I felt like I was in the right place.

I put my head down for just a moment, letting my eyes shut for a brief catnap. A stack of demonology books acting as a pillow. Just to get enough rest to perk back up again and find what I was looking for.

"This isn't your bedroom," Orion stated from behind me. His tall form stepped to the side of me, picking up one of the books and reading a brief section.

I looked up at him, not saying a word when his dark eyebrows furrowed, eyes flashing. His upper lip curled into a growl, displaying perfectly white teeth.

He slammed it onto the table. "What are you doing here, Adira?"

I crossed my arms. "You're a smart boy, piece it together."

Oh, he didn't like that one bit. He charged toward me, grasping my shirt and dragging me up from my chair. I gasped, heart jumping as I reached for his hands to stabilize myself.

"You should know better than to bait me, pet," he hissed into my face. "You won't like what you find."

"Then just tell me. If you think I'll revoke you if I know the truth, then get it over with," I challenged.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Sometimes I find myself fascinated with you. Wanting to take you apart to see how you tick." He paused, his mouth forming a wolfish grin. "Other times I think your head would be pretty on a stick."

"So you think I'm pretty?" I breathed hard, still dangling from his grip.

Both of his eyebrows shot up as if my response took him completely off guard. But that expression was gone as soon as I saw it. "Feed me, pet."

I gazed up at him, enraptured by his beauty. "Why do you do that?"

He veered back. "Don't ask me questions. I hate questions," he ground out between his teeth, narrowing the distance between our faces in an attempt to threaten me.

"You don't scare me," I murmured.

He visibly seethed, slamming me into a bookshelf. He cornered me, two arms caging me against the stacks. Instead of inducing fear like he wanted, I could feel my body shudder with pleasure. "I am eons old, Adira. I've tormented humans in Hell. Swayed kings to sin. Tricked the most pious virgins. I could kill you with nothing more than a snap of my fingers."

I'm sure he could kill me. Easily. And I'm sure he had done all those things, but regardless of all that, he never did anything I didn't want. "I'm starting to think you're all talk."

For once, he was rendered speechless. Maybe I was stupid. Taunting a being like him. But I found his gawking satisfying. Made him almost seem human for a moment. Like I could see him within the cracks of his mask.

"I want to see what you look like. In the flesh. I want you in the daylight."

"You've already seen me in the flesh, Adira," he reminded me, eyes blazing with insurmountable power.

"No…I want to see what you really look like," I murmured, tracing the buttons of his shirt, sliding my fingers up further and further. The ache settled within me. So deep, my soul quivered. "Beneath this."

He laughed bitterly, but I didn't miss how he shivered against my touch. I slid my hand along his jawline, the smooth, warm flesh nothing but a sweet lie.

"You humans think that's what you want. Think you can handle a celestial's primordial form, but you can't. You'll see me in your nightmares. Burned into the backs of your eyelids. You don't know what you're asking."

Tilting my head to the side, I stared up at him, trying to understand what was going on inside of his mind. My hand fell to the side and I stated, "For a demon…you're a coward."

A snarl slipped past his lips as he shoved himself away from me. "You want to see me in the flesh? My true form? Even if it breaks your fragile mortal mind?" Each question was behind his teeth, a tick in his jaw. Clenching his teeth so hard it was a surprise they didn't break in his mouth.

He didn't give me time to answer when a swarm of smoke crawled up his body, erasing the smooth skin. The youthful features. Even his clothes warped into something different. Armor spiked out along his calves and heavy boots. More violent looking than chainmail. He wore greaves adorned with a massive sword matching the look of his armor.

Black with red illuminating from it like brimstone.

He appeared to grow even taller until he must have been at least eight feet tall. Black hair cascaded down his shoulders, bare chest scarred everywhere. My breath hitched when the smoke dissipated, revealing him in his entirety.

He looked ageless, horns poking out from his head, wide and curved like a ram's. Black feathered wings folded against his back.

He towered over me, glaring at me with eyes that could've burned me.

He wanted to scare me, I realized. He wanted me to cower. Shrink in fear at his feet. Find an excuse to abandon me. He wanted me to revoke him, but I was too deep.

I never could have imagined him looking like this. Out of this world. Still as painfully beautiful as he was in his mortal form. Only different. Ethereal like he could have only emerged from the sky above me. His face was humanoid while simultaneously looking nothing like a human at all.

Massive shoulder and rippling muscles marred from centuries, if not eons, of violence and torture. I pressed my thighs together, a painful wave of desire washing over me.

I only wanted him more.

To drag his face in my hands. Kiss his somehow even pinker lips. Feel the scar that split his upper lip. I wanted to know how his body felt between my legs. Nothing between us. Not a mask. Not a dream. Just us. I wanted to please him. Taste him. Lose myself until I wasn't sure who I was anymore.

Until I became the person I only was when he was with me. I liked her. I wanted to be her all the time. Let the rage and lust come to the surface and unleash it all just to be the woman I was when he had me.

He was everything I wanted. I would risk everything for him. At that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the pitiful excuse for my life. He was so much more.

He breathed heavily from his nose, shouting, "Is this what you wanted? Does this please you?"

I uttered one word. "Yes."