Sunday night went as expected. Humans, demons, and lesser spirits flooded the club and vied for an invitation to any open VIP booth upstairs for the soft launch. The bouncers had already removed several rowdy frat boys for trying to push their way upstairs after a group of women they were with was granted access and they weren’t.

I’d meant to bring Dabria down myself but instead sent a lesser demon from Sitri’s legion to assist her. He was under strict instructions to take her to the guest closet, that Sitri kept stocked with expensive labels and a ridiculous amount of accessories, then show her how to properly walk in any footwear she chose from the rows and rows of designer heels. I often wondered if every one of the princes had a thirst for more than what their abilities implied.

I glanced over to the elevator for the tenth time, becoming concerned that Dabria was refusing to come down. There was no real reason for her to be here, but jumping headfirst into human culture would give her existence here on Earth a head start.

Sitri weaved through the crowded dance floor, turning heads as he passed many willing parties who would have done anything for him to glance in their direction.

The Deacon wasn’t only our business, it was a carefully curated environment that suited him. His nature could flow, influence, and intoxicate several hundred humans all at once under the conditions we’d created. Sitri’s natural gifts filled our pockets and our time, but The Deacon ensured that Lucifer was happy with the game of numbers he’d set his princes out to play. In one night, I’d seen Sitri cull hundreds of souls in the name of Hell.

When Sitri reached me, I saw the elevator doors finally open, and a large demon emerged with Dabria clinging to his arm. She looked scared at first, or maybe disgusted. But after a moment of searching the crowd, her eyes settled on me and Sitri, and her brow relaxed slightly.

The demon brought her straight to us then shook his arm to free himself from her. She found her footing and watched him wander off before looking back at us. Sitri stood in silence, but his signature bored expression was more than a little interested.

She looked beautiful. Her tight curls dusted the tops of her bare shoulders, and she was wearing a practically see-through sequined dress that hit an inch or so below her ass.

“You’re stunning,” I said, not ashamed that I was drooling over every curve in that dress. Very little was left to the imagination.

“Is it okay? I found it upstairs. It’s shiny and it fits.”

The lights from the DJ booth caught in the fabric as they whizzed by. Sitri cleared his throat and snapped his fingers to the bartender for a round of shots.

“It’s perfect. Here,” Sitri said, handing her a shot glass of bright-pink liquor. “A toast to your first night on Earth.”

She brought the rim up to her nose and sniffed deeply. Her face contorted into a grimace instantly.

“What is it?” She held it out in front of her as if it were poison.

“Nectar of the gods,” Sitri answered with a flourish of his hand. “Would you like assistance?”

She looked puzzled. She glanced from the shot to his face twice before nodding apprehensively.

I knew what he was going to do before he did it, and I didn’t bother to stop it.

I considered it an icebreaker moment.

Sitri took the shot from her hand and tipped it into his mouth, holding it in his cheeks. He wrapped an arm around her waist and around the back of her neck, then pulled her against him before he dipped her like they were dancing.

She gasped, and he lowered his lips to hers to release the liquid.

Surprised, she swallowed down the alcohol and wrapped her arms around his neck. She coughed until she was back on her own two feet.

“What is that?” She wiped her lips with the back of her hand and backed out of his hold.

“Sex in a pineapple,” Sitri answered with a wide, foxy grin. “A house specialty.”

“Would you like another?” I asked, holding out a renewed shot.

“Can I drink it by myself this time?”

“It would be a pity, but yes.” I winked and held out the glass for her to take.

Her cheeks flushed, and she brought the rim of the glass to her lips and sipped it slowly. She was about halfway through before tipping the rest into her mouth then licking her lips.

“It’s . . . sweet. But it hurts?” She looked between Sitri and me for an answer or encouragement.

“It’s the alcohol. You’ll get used to it.” Sitri signaled to the bartender that the glasses were empty. “Come with us.”

He held his elbow out to her, and I stood at her other side. Together, Sitri and I led her to the VIP floor and to a free booth in the corner: the perfect spot to watch the entire room. It was quieter upstairs, and for good reason. Sitri had wanted to create a place where humans felt more comfortable and where demons could impress any human they had their eye on. Only higher-ranking demons were permitted with high-profile humans. Those matches would yield more powerful alliances.

Sitri waited for Dabria and me to settle. “I will be back in a few minutes,” he said.

I shook my head. He had explained the meeting with Lucifer and the rules of our assignment, but aside from bringing Dabria here, he hadn’t spent more than a few minutes with her. I wasn’t going to allow him to turn his back on her or this assignment. I couldn’t lose him more than I already had.

A waiter appeared at the end of our table and smiled. I’d fucked him several weeks ago, and ever since, he’d been the most attentive employee we’d ever had.

I wished that were a more frequent occurrence, if I were being honest.

“Sitri sent over a bottle of champagne.” He set down three flutes and popped the cork for us. “Is there anything else I could get for you, Ezequiel?”

“This will be fine.” I dismissed him with a nod, and he took the hint graciously.

I poured Dabria a glass and slid it in front of her before pouring my own and then taking a sip.

She watched the bubbles float to the top in amazement. It was curious to see a being so involved with the human experience. I took a drink, and she watched closely then tried her own. Her nose crinkled, but she went for another, longer pull.

“I like the other drink more. This one is too alive.”

I scoffed. “That’s an interesting way of putting it.”

“I think I’m having fun. The sound makes my insides happy.”

Her smile inspired my own.

“You should be happy more often. It looks good on you.”

“Are you always happy? You smile a lot.” She looked at me closely, inspecting me for humor or madness.

“I choose to find life entertaining. The longer I roam Earth, the more I need to find happiness to stave off the cynicism.”

“I really like when you smile at me,” she said, her cheeks blazing once again.

“Are you flirting with me?” I leaned closer to her and draped my arm across the back of the booth.

“I don’t know what flirting is, but if it’s telling you that I’d like to touch your face, then yes.” She emptied her glass.

My brow popped when a thought crossed my mind.

“Did you eat before coming downstairs?”

“Eat?”

“Food? From the kitchen.”

She paused, retracing the steps that had brought her to leaning into the curve of my body in a comfortable VIP booth.

“Do you know how many ways there are to die in a kitchen?”

I couldn’t help my widening grin. “For you? None.”

She laughed, snorted, and slapped a hand to my chest. “You’re very funny. And big.” She gripped my arm.

“All right. I believe you’re done for the night. Time for bed, little Reaper.”

“Bed?”

“Yes. To sleep off the alcohol.”

“Can I even do that?”

“We’re going to find out. After some water and a sandwich.”

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