Page 5 of Sin and Salvation

But tonight they looked tired. Hopeless.

“Stop being negative,” I muttered, and a snarky feminine voice outside the door said, “Stop talking to yourself and hurry up.”

I pushed the door open and nearly hit one of the pretty demons in the spangled dresses.

“Freak,” she whispered, shoving past me into the bathroom.

I stared at the lights flashing down the hall, and steeled myself. It was now or never.

The club was absolutely packed with Black Hearts members. Most of them were demons native to Concordia, but I picked out a few vampires in the crowds, even a couple of panther shifters.

Not a single inch of exposed flesh was untattooed, and I thought I stood out like a sore thumb as I wove my way through the club, sticking to the edges and dark corners.

Multiple stages were occupied by dancers, skin glittering as they writhed on brass poles. An odd feeling went through me as I watched a blonde demon girl lean over backwards, her stomach muscles flexing and curved horns glittering, but I couldn’t quite place it.

But that feeling was replaced by a horrific combination of terror and relief when I spotted a round table in a private alcove, where the light was dim and several glasses of whisky were arrayed on the table around the three men settled there.

An enormous shape sat half in shadow, the darkness around him made almost abyssal by his sheer presence. He wore a black button-down shirt, his sleeves rolled up to expose his tattooed forearms, and eyes the color of obsidian glinted as they roved around the club. His golden horns were the only color about him; everything else was a study in black and white.

Even with his shirt on, I knew who he was: Crow, from the House of Wrath. The president of the Black Hearts, and according to Maxime, the cruelest demon in Concordia.

Beneath that linen shirt were two dark wings inked on the skin of his back, the tattoos that had given him his moniker.

According to rumor, he had tattooed a single black feather each time he’d killed an angel… until his entire back was covered and he was made a dark angel by his own hand.

I didn’t know the other two by name, only that they were his right and left hand men, the Vice President and Sergeant at Arms, forming the trio that ruled the wild half of Concordia.

The hellhound to Crow’s left wore a leather jacket, but the dark ink across his knuckles stood out as he threw back his whisky. His auburn hair was ruffled like he’d just gotten out of bed with a few enthusiastic demons.

But it was the last demon of the trio who was staring right back at me. Curling black horns rose through his silver hair, worn long on top and shaved at the sides, a glimmering snake inked from his cheek to wind down around his throat, disappearing under the collar of his shirt.

The snake was the emblem of the House of Greed. I wondered how he’d ended up on this side of the city.

His golden eyes flashed as he raised a finger, beckoning me. He was not smiling.

Dread welled in me as I stepped forward, drawn towards them inexorably. I wanted to die when Crow’s black eyes flicked towards me, and the hellhound followed suit, cocking his head as he looked me over.

It was far too late to turn around.

“This is the one Brody let in?” the hellhound asked, hazel eyes raking over me with languid interest. “Why is she dressed like an accountant? Did someone hire an accountant?”

My gut churned. Brody must be the bouncer—he’dwarnedthem about me? I wasn’t dangerous in the slightest.

“She’s not an accountant, Aeron,” the silver-haired demon said patiently. “She’s from Giraud’s side of town. What are you doing on this side, girl?”

I was clutching my coat so tight my knuckles actually ached. “I—I came to ask Crow for refuge.” The words burst out of me, and the silver demon raised an arched brow.

“What makes you think we care?”

Crow lifted a glass of whisky, taking a sip as he perused me, but truthfully, nothing about his demeanor made me think he cared.

“I need help,” I whispered, my heart sinking. “I need somewhere to stay.”

Where the hell was I going to go if this didn’t work?

This close to him, I could see the little scarlet flecks in the Greed demon’s gold eyes—and read that he clearly didn’t believe me.

“We’re not a charity, little girl,” he said coldly. “You want somewhere to stay, you work for it.”

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