Page 6 of Touched By Sin
His friends are silent before one of them bursts out laughing. “You’re fucking insane.”
The other boy drags his fingers over his stubble and replies, “It’s not a bad idea.”
“We caught her, right?” Daemon says, rooting in his back pocket. “She’s ours now.” He opens a packet of cigarettes, placing one between his lips. Then he flicks his fingers and lights it with the hellfire conjured while I stare at the chandelier on the roof. It’s old as time. Smoke escapes Daemon’s mouth before he breathes it in, pointing his cigarette at his friends. “Little angel, meet Alaric and Ronan.”
They all have black hair and dark eyes, features of the underworld. Ronan has a scar on his eyebrow, and there’s another one near his hairline. Alaric has full yet masculine lips and sharp cheekbones. His eyes are a lighter brown yet almost black, a combination I can’t make sense of. Perhaps it’s not the color that’s dark but the essence that shines within. Daemon’s hair is tousled and overdue for a haircut. It’s not straight, but it’s not curly either. It has a kink at the ends that would disappear if he cut it. The gleam in his eyes is crueler than his friends. He’s bored with life here in the underworld. Daemon is the trouble-seeker and the boy who hunts for meaning in the wrong places.
“The rules where you are from don’t apply here,” Alaric tells me. “In fact, there are no rules in the underworld. Here, you fend for yourself.”
I’m from a place of togetherness. This world sounds cold and unwelcoming.
“You can’t trust anyone,” Ronan adds.
I slowly sit up and fold my wings around myself to cover my nakedness, but Daemon shakes his head.
“You don’t hide from us.” When I don’t immediately unfold my wings, he shoots to his feet and surges toward me. “I gave you a fucking order.”
Alaric laughs. “Calm down, brother. She’s scared. Let her adjust.”
“I want her scared.” Crouching down in front of me, he tips my chin up with his finger. “You do as I say, or I will have to punish you.”
My wings slowly unfurl, and Daemon looks like a kid at Christmas with a new toy.
“Good girl for listening to me,” he says, patting my cheek patronizingly.
As he goes to sit, I flip him off. His friends laugh, but don’t rat me out.
“We should get her some clothes,” Daemon tells the others, his elbow on the armrest, scratching his cheek in thought.
“Why?” Ronan asks, rising to his feet. He disappears into the kitchen and returns with beers.
“I’m not letting anyone else see her tits,” Daemon comments.
I’m surprised he cares.
Alaric looks amused. He reaches forward to grab a beer from the coffee table, and then, as he pops the lid, he says, “I’ve never known you to be possessive before.”
“I’m not possessive.”
Alaric takes a large gulp of his beer and looks at Daemon, his eyebrows raised.
“I’m not.”
“Sure.”
“Shut up!”
Ronan watches me closely, then, “Have you ever seen an erect cock?”
Alaric chokes on his drink and starts laughing. My cheeks burn, but I refuse to look weak in front of these fallen angels. I hold his gaze, pretending to be braver than I am.
“Answer me!”
Daemon leans forward and grabs a beer as I shake my head.
“No.”
They exchange an amused look.
