Page 46 of Sin and Salvation

Besides, if that was really what they thought, they would’ve all jumped me the minute they knew I was a succubus. Instead, they’d been slowly building their way up towards seducing me, and spent the whole time making sure I was happy with it.

Now that Crow had mated me, my scent had changed a little. I caught a tinge of spice every time my hair brushed my face, a scent no shampoo could ever wash out.

For me, it was faint and comforting, but for another male demon, it would be the olfactory equivalent of being smashed in the face with a brick wall.

The mating bond was essentially a neon sign screaming that I belonged to Crow, and touching me was certain death.

It was strange how such a small thing could make me feel so protected.

And the guys were all at the VIP table, the President in his customary shadows, Zane’s golden eyes on me, and Aeron’s sly grin promising a lot of jokes later at my expense. They’d smelled Crow’s scent loud and clear this morning, and Aeron looked like he was barely containing himself.

I cocked a hip towards them, the smile that was supposed to be coy stretching wider than I meant. Aeron had been the one to sling the glittering pink thong at me this morning.

The look in his eyes made it clear he’d like to take it right back off. With his teeth.

Once again, enthusiasm returned to me as I writhed and rolled my hips on the stage, collecting cash left and right. It was only when they watched me that the excitement returned, and I found it much easier to run my hands over myself.

An hour passed, and patrons came and went, but the guys hadn’t moved. Zane was writing something in a ledger, but he spent more time with his eyes on me than on the book.

It wasn’t until I heard a slight commotion that my attention was drawn away.

Kylaea stood next to Brody near the entrance hall, a scowl on her pretty face and her arms crossed over her chest. There was a demon standing there, shouting over the music, thrusting something into Brody’s face—

My stomach sank as I recognized the mop of dark hair. Rastus had come back.

Hatred and disbelief flared to life. How dare he come back here? And didn’t he understand who he was fucking with?

I’d seen a demon’s arm torn off, for fuck’s sake. He was delusional if he thought he could get away with less.

I hurried down from the stage, yanking my bra back on as I tried to push through the crowd of partying demons to my brother.

When I reached them, I saw what Rastus held: a page ripped out from a newspaper. It was crumpled from his grip.

“I have to see her!” he shouted.

The closer I got, the more I realized something was off. Even when we were broke, Rastus had always put a special effort into his appearance. Sometimes, demons hadn’t even realized they were dealing with slum dwellers when they spoke to him.

But there were now dark circles under Rastus’s eyes. His hair was greasy and mussed like he hadn’t cared for it at all, not artfully disheveled. There was even a red stain down the front of his white button-down.

I slowed to a halt, frowning at him. What could have happened that he looked like he’d climbed out of a dumpster before coming here?

“Do you not understand what ‘banned’ means?” Brody was asking him, his voice deceptively calm. I saw one hand resting on a gun at his side. The bouncer flicked a quick glance at me, and I realized why Rastus hadn’t been tossed out on his ass yet, or worse: they were sparing me the sight of my own brother getting hurt.

“It’s important!” Rastus shouted. He saw me, and practically climbed over the big bouncer’s arm to get to me. “Read this, Venus!”

I kept my distance, reaching out to pluck the paper from his hands without allowing him to get within arm’s reach of me.

My heart stuttered when I saw the headline, though the press of three warm, welcome bodies around me kept me from stumbling back.

Giraud Loses Assistant to Black Hearts!

Below it, a byline asked:What secrets will be revealed on the controversial real estate mogul?

I hardly breathed as I took in the black and white picture; it was clearly me, standing at Crow’s side outside the café. My hair was short, but there was no mistaking my face or small horns.

The article was by Julie Zarro, the demon who’d already caused a good deal of trouble for Giraud. She must’ve been right there in the café, sniffing around for a story… and we’d walked right into her arms and camera sights.

I scanned the article quickly, my eyes straining to read the fine print under the club’s frenetic lighting, but fortunately there was nothing a casual observer couldn’t have made out. Julie had speculated that I’d left Maxime in order to sell his secrets to the Black Hearts—which was actually true now, though that hadn’t been my original motivation.

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