The Demon of Angels (Bk. 2)
10

TONIGHT’S AFTER PARTY was being held at Morgan’s house. Her foster parents, the elderly couple Hannah had told me about, were out on a business trip and she had the place to herself the weekend. I couldn’t have cared either way, as long as she didn’t cause any trouble. I told myself I would keep to myself, knowing she was still a part of Zeke’s family– his pack. But if she so much as barked once at me, I wouldn’t hesitate to bite.

Zeke pulled his GT along the side of the road, parking in front of Morgan’s two-story house. Bright lights and dancing bodies flashed through the windows. Some already had red cups in their grasps; others had another body.

Evan pulled in behind us and was the first to climb out, gazing up at the house with a smirk. Zeke and I got out a moment later, watching other students trickle in as well with their prom attire. Some I recognized from our school, but others seemed to be from another school around town.

Zeke came around the car and wrapped his arm around my shoulders in a public claim. I chuckled, following Evan and Noah as they made their way toward the front entrance.

The music shook the house, vibrating my lungs as we stepped inside. It wasn’t that it was extremely loud, but the bass was cranked to an extraordinarily high level. The music had your body itching to dance, and it was safe to say that was the point. Glancing around at the carefree bodies dancing around, attached hip-to-hip and swaying to the beat, I’d say it was working.

Zeke snatched my hand as Evan walked off toward the living room and Noah toward the kitchen. The living room seemed to be the makeshift dance floor. It was crammed with people; everyone was dancing with everyone. I even saw Kayla in the crowd and watched as Evan made his way toward her.

I let Zeke drag me toward the kitchen, dropping my hand to grab two new red cups. Without asking, he poured me a drink and handed it to me. I shrugged, knowing that I couldn’t get drunk, so who cared? My words from earlier echoed in my head.

You only live once.

Zeke lifted his cup to his lips, drinking the cold liquid. I smirked, mirroring his action with our eyes locked. Heat seared through me as liquid fire poured through my spine, igniting the spot between my legs. I released the cup from my lips, suppressing a shiver.

Zeke set his cup down on the counter, then took mine and did the same. Grabbing my hand, he dragged me toward the dance floor. “What are we doing?” I asked, even though I already had an idea.

The hybrid spun around and grinned down at me. “Dancing,” he answered. “Last time I had to watch you dance at a club with strangers, now you’re going to dance with me.” He growled the last part playfully; his eyes darkened with lust and want.

My body shivered, giving me away. I could never deny it when it came to Zeke; I wanted him so badly. I knew he could see the effect he had on me. I bit my lip and followed Zeke willingly.

His eyes flashed amber, then simmered back to his stormy grey. He bent down, his lips brushing my ear and his breath fanning my neck. “Careful, Princess. You’re playing a dangerous game.”

I pulled back and furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. Before my question could reach my lips, he pulled me to his chest possessively. “I can see the lust in your eyes,” his voice lowered several octaves. A warm feeling through my core and lower region did a little dance in response, but my cheeks heated at getting caught.

But it wasn’t just me that felt the hot and heaviness between us; I could see the want and need he was trying so desperately to hide from me.

So arrogant.

I smirked, locking gazes with the hybrid. I slowly stood on the tips of my toes and brushed my lips against his cheek. “I can see yours too, hybrid,” I growled. “I’m not the only one who’s playing the game.”

Zeke’s body shivered against me, and I knew I had him. He clutched me tighter, bending his head into the crook of my neck. “Let’s dance, Princess,” he purred. Before he could drag me like a pet on a leash, I took control.

Pulling away, I flashed my eyes up at him seductively with a bite of my lip. A growl rose up in his throat as he watched me. Tugging his hand, I lead him through the throng of people deeper into the dance floor.

A few people noticed our arrival and backed off, giving us some room. Others had their eyes closed, their bodies swaying and hips grinding, too high or intoxicated from their drinks notice.

Swinging around once I found a comfortable spot in the middle of the floor, I pulled Zeke against my chest and wrapped my arms around his neck. He didn’t hesitate to place his hands on my hips.

Two Tone Rebel blared through the speakers, igniting my adrenaline. Zeke moved my hips to the beat that bounced through the walls. This song was known for its bass, so you could imagine how many things started to shake through the house. It only made us move faster, harder and wilder.

Zeke’s hands didn’t once remove themselves from my hips, but he spun me around, so my back was to his chest. I molded into his form, nearly every inch of our bodies igniting in electric tingles as we pressed ourselves closer and moved in rhythm.

The song quickly morphed to Boom Boom by the Justice Crew, another high adrenaline, fast-paced, and high bass-leveled song. It was intoxicating, dancing against Zeke without a care in the world. I felt like a normal teenager with him.

I felt free.

Everyone around us jumped or ground to the music. No one was alone tonight, whether it was with a stranger or a lover.

Zeke’s hardened length pressed into the back of my ass, grinding against me. I let out a soft gasp, and Zeke replied with a growl. One of his hands lifted from its place on my hip, fingers curling around my throat and bringing my neck back until he had free access. I sighed as he trailed his seductive and wet lips across my searing hot skin. I lost myself in his touch, his body, his movements, and moved to the beat of the music.

The Dj, which I just now realized was off to the side in front of a staircase, eased us out of the current song and slowed it down. He then picked it back up and started playing a song that I knew was going to get me in trouble. A bass-boosted version of Or Nah by SoMo sparked an all-new mood in the crowd, and we all went a little wild.

In the beat of the music, I arched my back and swayed my hips. Zeke returned his hands to my hips, the grip tightening as he let lose another sensual growl. He stopped my hips from moving, then forced them to a rhythm he could follow. We danced in sync, and my body ignited with heat and passion. I was hot all over, but it wasn’t from a hot flare this time. It was purely from Zeke.

Without breaking apart, I spun in his arms and pressed my front firmly against his, with my arms wrapping around his neck. His hands dropped from my hips to just above my ass and pulled me directly against every part of him. It was clear to me that he was just as affected as I was as it pressed against my naval, and damn, he was packing. I could feel. Every. Inch.

I bit my lip and slowly lowered my hands to his chest. I clutched the fabric of his shirt in my fists, unsure of what to do with the tightness in my core. Zeke’s eyes were turning into a molten fire, wild and unstable. I’d be lying if I said mine wasn’t acting the same.

We danced like this for a multitude of songs, never breaking apart and feeding the adrenaline. The air was hot and full of uncontrollable hormones. A few couples were making out in several corners, while others crept their way upstairs into the bedrooms, bathrooms, or any spare and private place they could find.

Zeke and I were sweating, our bodies clinging to our clothing. Despite my raging hormones, I started to feel gross, and my throat was growing dry. Zeke must have felt it, too, because he grabbed my hand and led us through the crowd.

As we made our way toward the kitchen, people parted like the red sea to let us pass. As soon as we reached the dining room, Zeke dropped my hand and made a beeline for the refrigerator.

I watched in fascination as his arms and back muscles flexed through his tux with each movement. He grabbed an empty and unused red cup and poured me some orange juice. I nearly laughed, but it was cold and refreshing, so I didn’t complain.

Zeke handed me the cup with an arrogant smirk. He knew I had been ogling him. I rolled my eyes, taking the cup from him. “Thank you,” I mumbled into the plastic as I lifted it to my lips.

“Welcome,” he grinned. I poured the cold juice down my throat, chugging it in one go. Zeke arched his eyebrow, smirking at me. His eyes flashed gold, and I automatically knew where his thoughts went.

“Pervert,” I grumbled, tossing the empty cup at him. He dodged it with ease, flicking it away before it could come into contact with his face, and smiled. It did funny things to my stomach, so I turned away, heading back for the dance floor. The last thing I needed was to boost his already large ego.

I made it three feet before a flash of black and red-tipped hair was in front of me. Noah caught my arms when I stumbled with surprise. “Hey, Cupcake,” he smiled.

I giggled. “Hi, Noah. Where were you?” My eyes drift down to his swollen lips and messy hair. His reply confirmed my suspicions.

He smirked arrogantly. “Occupying myself. You and Zeke seemed busy when I came back out, and Evan was with Kayla, so I went to get another drink.” Noah lifted his hand, indicating to the half-empty red solo cup.

My eyes rolled. “You mean someone?” Noah winked at me, then his eyes shifted to something over my shoulder and hardened. Turning around to see what caught his attention, my heart stuttered in my chest and fell. I tampered down the immediate anger, keeping to my promise to behave.

Unless provoked, of course.

Morgan had Zeke pinned up against the wall, her chest practically in his face. His face was void of any emotion, but I could see the flicker of annoyance pass through his silver irises. Her flirtatious smile widened when she caught me watching, pressing further onto him.

White hot anger boiled my veins, my fists clenching at my sides. Part of me wanted to storm off like the child I was in an angry tantrum. The other part wanted to storm up there and rip the blonde hair out of Barbie’s skull.

He was mine.

Zeke must have felt my anger as his eyes caught mine for a brief second. There was a challenge behind them, daring me to do something. To stake claim. Part of me wanted to yell at him, ask why he was entertaining her and to shove her away. The other part wanted to act on his challenge. Zeke had staked his claim on me a long time ago, it was about time I did the same.

“Go get him, Cupcake,” Noah prodded from behind me. He didn’t have to tell me twice.

There were about five feet between Morgan and me, but I made it to her in three long angry strides. I stood behind her, my hands on my hips, and waited. It didn’t take longer than a split second for her to turn around with a smug look on her face.

“What do you want?” she snarled. I grinned, practically rubbing my hands together in a devious way as I stared at her. Glancing over her shoulder, Zeke gave me a small head nod, crossing his arms as he relaxed for the show.

I focused my attention back on Bitch Barbie, my nose flaring. “I want you to back the fuck off,” I hissed. “He’s mine,” I growled, my voice no longer quite my own as. Flashing my eyes their Hybrid golden yellow, I let it slowly rise to the service.

Her features twisted into an ugly look of shock, her eyebrows raised. She gave me a once over, acting as if I was a bug beneath her shoe. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” I growled, stepping into her personal bubble and getting right in her face. “Back. The fuck. Off.” Morgan’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, then she scowled. We now have a lot of attention; a few have even stopped dancing to watch the showdown. I had a feeling the student body had been waiting a long time for this.

My back was to them so that none could see the simmering rage of my Hybrid clawing at the surface.

Morgan thrived on the attention and tried to use it to her advantage. She didn’t seem to get that I’m not some normal girl she can bully or push around whenever she pleased.

“What makes you think I would?” she taunted, her lips curling. “Last time I checked, new girl, you’re just some slut that gets around.” I wasn’t affected by her little statement. I knew I wasn’t a slut, and so did the boys. But it was her next few words that got to me. Morgan bent low, so only I could hear. “Just like her mother.” The words were whispered, but I could have sworn they were being rammed down my throat. Something within me snapped, and my eyes bulged out of my head. Now that was the last straw.

Without a second of hesitation, my hand shot up and curled around her dainty throat. Morgan gasped, clawing at my hand as I slammed her next to Zeke on the wall. The crowd behind me gasped; I ignored them. Her feet were still on the ground, so it wasn’t like I was showing some superhuman strength.

Zeke backed away with a grin on his face. He knew I wouldn’t kill her; this was well deserved, so he didn’t care. Zeke knew better than anyone that no one disrespected me and got away with it.

I leaned forward until Barbie’s face was only an inch from mine. “Don’t you ever talk about my mother, you bitch,” I sneered.

Her face went from bright red to almost blue. I knew she was about to pass out. My vision was hazy and blurred red. The urge to tear her head clean off her shoulders for disrespecting my dead mother was nearly uncontrollable.

A hand was suddenly resting lightly on my shoulder, giving me a gentle squeeze. Warmth and tingles followed the sensation. “Celeste,” Zeke murmured. His voice and touch erased the red haze from behind my eyes. “Let go, baby.”

My shoulders instantly sagged, and my hold on Morgan released. She fell to the floor limp, gasping for air, while her hands clutched around her bruised throat. I stared down at her, my hands clenched at my sides in an attempt to mask the shaking.

A slight breeze stirred my hair out of my face, and I breathed in vanilla and cinnamon. Evan and Noah stood at my side, glaring down at Morgan. It didn’t matter that the humans hadn’t heard what she had said; the boys did.

Evan crouched to Morgan, her eyes widening with fear with his movements. I found this comical. A purebred Hellhound scared of a Nephilim.

“If you ever say something like that again-”

“Or hurt Celeste in any way-” Noah cut in.

“Or come anywhere near me– or her– without our permission,” Zeke growled, glowering down at his pack member– family member.

“You’ll be kicked from the pack,” Evan finished. My eyes widened at Evan’s proclamation, stunned that they were willing to boot her for bothering me. I almost felt a twinge of sympathy.

Almost.

Evan stood up straight, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. Zeke scowled at his arm as Noah flashed his red eyes down at Morgan. She whimpered, bowing her chin in submission.

We walked away from Morgan, leaving her stunned on her own kitchen floor. Making our way to the front door, Noah leading, Zeke smacked Evan’s arm off my shoulder, wrapping his around my middle. Evan chuckled, backing off and bringing up the rear.

A smile graced my lips as we walked toward the entrance, everyone making space for my pack as we crossed through.

My family.

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