Page 26 of Sin and Salvation

First off, I would look like a creep, and second, it would be pretty humiliating if I threw myself at them only for them to lose interest in me for a new stripper next week.

If that happened, I thought what was left of my soul would curl up and die. Putting my trust in other demons had only led me to dark places; no matter how much they made me laugh, I was still a commodity to them.

Holding myself back from giving Aeron his dance served another purpose, as well. I had learned certain lessons at Maxime’s knee, such as: make them want what they can’t easily have.

And from my peripheral vision, I saw Zane eyeing me with barely concealed greed.

The Sloth demon was eventually carried off by another biker, leaving an empty gap in the bar stools that a demon immediately headed for. I stood up and returned to the pole, focusing on the other patrons and giving myself an excuse not to stare at the Black Hearts leaders.

Until I completed a rotation, gliding to a stop and balancing on one wobbly Lucite heel, and looked down into what had once been a familiar face.

My breath caught in my throat. My first instinct was to throw my arms around myself, covering my breasts as an ugly flush suffused my face.

“Rastus,” I croaked.

My brother glared up at me with poorly disguised venom. “When do you get a break? We need to talk.”

Without thinking, my eyes flicked to the trio, and I saw a deep frown on Aeron’s face. Zane was scrolling through something on his phone, his gaze occasionally flicking to Rastus.

Fuck.

Before I could fully panic, Kylaea slunk towards me, a vision on clear heels.

“Got you,” she murmured. “He’s cute, go on.”

I held back a gag, but didn’t bother to correct her. Instead I grabbed my bra from the bar counter around the stage and hurriedly pulled it on, taking the stairs down to the main floor.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed, drawing closer to Rastus.

My brother leaned back in his chair, watching with no real interest as Kylaea slid around the pole above him. Finally, his gaze slid to me.

His eyes were the same color as mine, and that was where the similarities ended. His hair was so deep a blue it was nearly black, his short, pointed horns the same shade. He was taller, more slender than muscular, and he had a sharp-boned face.

When I was young, I’d always thought Rastus would take care of both of us.

That lovely illusion had been shattered when I was seventeen. He’d brought me to the Zelus Casino, which I later found out Maxime owned.

At the time, I’d believed it was because I was finally old enough to go out on the town and live it up, too. Rastus had told me to look nice, even giving me a skintight, shimmering white cocktail dress for the occasion.

I’d preened a little when I noticed an older demon, one of the House of Greed, watching me at the casino with heavy-lidded eyes as he played blackjack with Rastus and several other demons. It had been a heady thing to be noticed at that age, especially by a demon who clearly came from money.

I had found out later that same night that his name was Maxime Giraud, and that Rastus could not back up the bet he’d wagered on and lost to him.

In fact, I discovered that Rastus had done this many times, until he was so hopelessly in debt he could never climb out.

But all had worked out just fine for him. Rastus had left with his head and what remained of his bank account intact.

Maxime had left with me on his arm.

Once upon a time, I’d looked at Rastus like he was the brightest star in the sky.

Now I only looked at him with hate.

“You’ve nearly fucked up my life, you know that, Venus?” His words were like ice, spit out like bullets. “Why the fuck did you run out on Maxime like that?”

He took a gulp of his drink, eyes already sparkling with drunken anger.

“Running out implies I did something wrong.” My tone matched his for coldness. “Iescapedfrom him.”

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