Page 10 of Demon Demands

She was entirely ivory, except for her hair and teeth. The latter of those were pearly white and razor sharp. Her silver hair shimmered in a curtain around her, hiding her ears. I fucking hoped they had that sexy point to them like Stone’s did.

With her attention fixated on Hyland, she leaned down to speak in Max’s ear, her voice more raspy than her usual purr, but gods was it still sultry as fuck.

“If you continue to insult my treasure,” she threatened slowly, “I will wear your skin as a gown, your intestines as a necklace, and your testicles as earrings. After I’ve dressed in your organs and bathed in your blood, I’ll ground your bones down, coating the bottom of my heels with the powder so that I can walk on you whenever I see fit.” She jerked his head around to look into her eyes. “Now, answer her questions before I make good on my promise.”

Sloane’s promise sent shivers racing through me, and I instantly placed my hand protectively over my treasure. Testicle earrings? That’s the kind of fucked up thing that would give a man nightmares. But also… for some twisted reason, her words turned me the fuck on. And I wasn’t the only one.

Stone was ready to crawl out of his skin. Pun maybe intended.

When I met his eyes, I smirked at him and he shook his head as if clearing his thoughts. I didn’t need to peer into his mind to know what he was thinking.

Pain was most definitely his game, and the ball-busting hottie in the next room was more than psychotic enough to give him what he liked most.

It didn’t take more than a few minutes for poor Max to spill his guts. Once he’d given up all his information, Atlas verified that he wasn’t lying when he said he had nothing else.

His guts were literally spilled across the room after that. Sloane made one long slice with her talon, from his sternum straight down, as he tried to leave.

There were dozens of lightning strikes in her eyes as she stared at her crimson hand, blood dripping from her elbow as it ran freely down her arm.

Grim handed her a handkerchief — or rag of some sort — to clean herself up. She gently placed her clean hand on his cheek and smiled, but it wasn’t Sloane’s sweet and mischievous smile. It was feral and deranged, the soft touch of her hand juxtaposed to the harshness of… the rest of her.

Hyland stood, stepping on Max’s unmoving chest, as she made her way to Sloane. She wrapped her lean arms around Trouble’s waist, no fear or hesitation from the petite demon in the face of such a predator.

Sloane’s demon visibly relaxed, her eyes calming as a familiar smile touched her face. My Trouble was coming back, and all it took was one touch from Hyland.

“Hyde, you’re getting bloody,” Sloane playfully chastised, stepping away from the succubus to grimace at her stained arm. “Let’s get cleaned up. We have so much to talk about.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Hyland readily agreed, tucking her small hand into Trouble’s and dragging her toward the door. “We can go to my room. I still have some of your clothes here from our last girls night.”

We followed Dolyn out of the room to meet them, and I itched with anxiety, wanting to check my mate out.

The moment we were in the same space, I could smell that none of the blood belonged to Trouble. I’d known that, but having it confirmed with my own senses settled me immensely.

“Whoa.” Hyland stopped short, eyeing us as if she were taking inventory. “Who are all the hunks?”

Sloane sighed dramatically, but the twitch of her lips couldn’t hide her amusement. “My mates.”

Hyland coughed obnoxiously. “I’m sorry. What? When? Where the fuck have you been hiding them?”

She raised a challenging brow at Sloane, her lips pinched together to keep herself from asking more questions.

“Language, Hyde,” Dolyn snapped, and the petite demon rolled her eyes at him.

“Sure, D, whatever.” She waved a dismissive hand, leaning in to mock-whisper in Trouble’s ear. “Lo, who’s got the biggest dick?”

Chuckling, Trouble bit into her lower lip as she gazed at each of us. “I couldn’t tell you for sure. Some of them like to hold out.”

Hyland followed Sloane’s gaze critically, checking us out one by one, and then dropped the pretense of whispering. “It’s the big tattooed guy, right?”

I felt the smirk tilt my lips, speaking before really thinking. “Are you trying to answer your own question or guessing at Trouble’s comment? I can’t read you.”

Hyland shrugged before responding, “both.”

I fucking cackled at her, watching as Dolyn ran a tattooed hand over his face. They were definitely siblings. I’d seen my sister do that same thing many times before to hide her embarrassment.

Hyland placed her hand on Sloane’s shoulder, leaning up on her tiptoes to whisper conspiratorially in my mate's ear, “He’s the whore of the bunch, isn’t he?”

“Hyland!” Dolyn reprimanded loudly, giving her a shut-the-fuck-up look. Both girls ignored him completely.