In Fury Lies Mischief (Midnight Mayhem 2)

“Sass!” Val waves me over to where her and Maya are seated near the fire. I head over, snatching a glass of wine on the way. I take a sip, sitting down on the chair.

“So, me and Maya were just saying how tired you must be from doing so many skits…” She’s right, I do have more scenes than the rest of them, but I’ve always liked to stay busy. I worked since I was at high school—not because I needed the money, but because I didn’t like to sit still for long. Hope was more than willing to pay for my tuition and did.

“I guess I like to keep busy.”

Maya chuckles. She stares off to the side of her, a drink dangling from between her fingers. I’d always found Maya beautiful. The kind that is effortless. She rolls out of bed this way.

“How’s your injury?” I ask Maya, taking a small sip of my wine. I can already feel the effects of it seeping into my brain and taking hold.

“Oh, is that what he told you?” Maya glares at me, tilting her head back to drink the rest of her cup and then stands, walking away from us.

“Ignore her.” Val rolls her eyes, waving her off. “She’s just mad that you’ve gained the attention of Trickster.”

“What?” I scoff. “I haven’t. Not any more than anyone else, anyway.”

Val doesn’t answer, so I look back at her, only to find her studying me closely. Val has long blonde hair, a small heart-shaped face and a small dimple indented into her chin.

“What?” I ask when the silence becomes too much.

“Oh, nothing.” She leans forward, pouring more wine into her cup. “Just that you have no idea—”

“Val,” Lucifer interrupts us, taking a seat on the chair where Maya was. “Don’t you have someone else to torment?”

I lean back in my chair, momentarily distracted by her words. I drink more.

When the music switches to “Love is a Bitch” by Two Feet, my eyes flutter closed and I lean back in my chair, gazing up at the bright stars twinkling in the sky. I think I preferred being alone in my room.

“Not much of a talker, huh?” Lucifer breaks through my inner thoughts.

“Hmmm.” I smile without looking at him. I know men. I know boys. They see me, and they want to fuck me. It’s why I was so immune to Killian. I’ve never had a boyfriend, though I had plenty of options. I’ve never seen the point of it. Killian, though, he snuck up on me silently, like a black mamba. “Not really.”

Lucifer must stand, because more alcohol is being poured into the glass that’s hanging between my fingers. I sit up slightly to gaze up at him. He’s wearing a ripped t-shirt, fitted jeans, and military style boots. His beard is overgrown, but groomed, but his features are not old. I’d say he’d be mid-thirties.

He takes a seat beside me, and just as he moves, I see Callan sitting on Killian’s lap near the fire.

I freeze slightly. This is why I don’t lower my guard. Why I shouldn’t have given him the power or satisfaction of sleeping with me, because now, he gets to talk about it. He gets to know that he has seen me naked while having every other girl that he pleases too.

I tilt my head back, swallowing my wine and relishing in the tangy dry bite that coats my throat.

“Sass?” Lucifer mutters.

Callan laughs, tilting her head back and turning in Kill’s grip, wrapping her legs around him. Rage simmers deep in my belly.

“Sorry,” I whisper, bringing my attention back to him. “Yeah, I’m not much of a talker. I guess being an only child will do that.”

“Ah.” He rests his head back against his seat. “So you’re an only child? Parents?”

I shake my head, sipping more wine. “Dead.”

“Sorry about that.” He shuffles.

I shrug, ignoring the laughter coming from Callan across the way. I have to fight the urge to not make a scene. Then he wins. Killian is all about games, and I have no doubt that this is one of them. He told me himself that he would never choose her, so maybe I need to just remind him what he’s missing by having her on his lap.

I swallow the rest of my drink, pouring another, and downing it. Liquid courage.

Lucifer is talking to another girl beside him, I recognize her as one of the Angels, I’m not really sure, and when Perse comes stumbling toward me, my hand goes out to catch her.

“Sassy!” Perse giggles, pulling me up to my feet. She looks me up and down. “I am digging that dress, girl! What you got under there?”

I laugh, the alcohol possessing me in a whole new way. I’ve been drunk a lot, but never while I’ve been in Mayhem. It was more a self-preservation reason why I didn’t, but I guess with a wounded ego, I’m feeling like the cure might be held inside a bottle of Cristal. “Pour Some Sugar On Me” by Def Leppard starts playing and I turn her in my grip, dancing. I run my fingers through my hair and pop a couple buttons off the middle of my jacket.