Page 212 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

“Then imagine that crack on your back.” I pointed to myself for context.

Rose-and-flame tattoos flashed on his hand as Ascher gestured with the demon brew bottle and asked, “Is it like you’re cracking your back yourself or is it cracking on its own? Or did the crack just appear…in your skin?” He narrowed his eyes as he tried to make sense of what I was saying.

“Yes!” I took a swill from the demon brew bottle clenched between my fingers, then chased it with a long inhale of my pipe. “I’m so glad you get it.”

Ascher looked confused for a second but then shrugged like he’d given up trying to understand.

“To cracks!” He clanked his bottle against mine.

“Crackalack,” I responded smartly. “On my back.”

We drank to that.

I smoked some more.

We nodded at each other and looked around, pretending to take in the party’s ambiance. A man fell to his knees in front of us and started sucking another student’s cock.

We turned back to each other to give them some privacy.

“So,” I said conversationally, “how does it feel to be in love with and mated to the prettiest person in all the realms?”

Ascher beamed. “Aw, I’ll tell Cobra you said that.”

I choked, and demon brew poured out of my nose. “I can’t believe you’re mated to that psycho.”

“Imagine.” Ascher grinned. “I can literally feel his thoughts and emotions.”

My jaw dropped. “Does he really hate all women? Or is it just for show?”

“Oh, he hates them.” Ascher took a long swig from his bottle. “Way more than you think. But Sadie, you, Jinx, and the girls are the exceptions.”

I sidled closer to him. “Be honest, he definitely hates me way more than Sadie and the girls. Right? Like he secretly wants me dead.”

Ascher arched his brow and smiled. “Nope.”

“Come onnnnnnn,” I whined. “Give me the details. Gossiping about Cobra is all I have to live for these days.”

Ascher replied, “I think—”

“Who are you talking about?” Cobra appeared next to us, slit pupils glowing green in the dark.

“You.” I sucked in smoke. “Ascher says you’re pretending to hate women and secretly you love us all. So sweet of you.”

I tried to maneuver the bottle and my pipe so I could inhale smoke and demon brew at the same time.

Cobra glared at me. “You have a substance abuse problem.”

I sucked harder, and my esophagus burned delightfully as the two substances mixed.

I pointed out smartly, “Is it a problem or the solution?”

Ascher chuckled.

Cobra’s frown deepened.

I was feeling very philosophical today.

Maybe I was close to reaching an enlightened state? Or maybe the stress from discovering my happy-go-lucky best friend had a secret angry twin who I’d unknowingly spent hours beside was making my psyche crumble?

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