The Sacrifice
Plus, it was some fucking fun for a change.
Normally, we were all in fantastic moods on the hours leading up to a party.
And, to be fair, the others were.
Well, Ace, Drex, and Seven were.
Minos, as usual, was still in his room, keeping to himself. The longer we were on this human plane, the less often any of us saw him.
He would come out for the party, of course. He would do his part. He might even find some joy in it, even though you would never know it.
I would usually be excited to find new ways to corrupt those who were already so heavily leaning toward evil rather than good.
But, I found myself excited for another reason.
An unexpected and unacceptable reason.
That reason was one floor ahead wearing a bra, miniskirt, and a velvet jacket, covered in shaving cuts and looking even more tempting than usual with her makeup applied, and her hair left long instead of in braids.
I was regretting agreeing to allow her to come to the party.
She would be noticed.
Even with my demands that she stay silent and hug the walls, I knew that people would see her. She would stand out. There was something unique about her, something that drew you in.
It drew me in.
It kept fucking drawing me in.
It made no sense.
Yes, she was beautiful.
But I had known many, many beautiful women in my time. And I had never felt the pull I felt toward this fucking witch.
God, that scent of hers.
Sweet like ripe fruit.
I hadn't been able to hold myself back from getting one small taste of her.
She exploded across my tastebuds, instantly intoxicating. And it wasn't possible for me to feel that way.
Yet, I did.
One taste of her.
And I felt addicted.
Each moment was like going through withdrawal.
What was that?
Was it her magic?
No.
That made no sense.
I'd known all the other witches. They had never affected me this way. Not even when they were using their magic.
Their magic didn't smell sweet.
It smelt smoky, almost, like wood burning.
It wasn't something I felt drawn to. If anything, it was overpowering, a little off-putting.
So this scent, it was all her own. And that was somehow even more problematic.
"Fuck," I hissed, getting up to get a drink.
"What's with you?" Drex asked as I stole his bottle.
"I don't know," I admitted. "But—" I started, before hearing the grumble of the bikes as they came down the road.
"Here comes trouble," Ace said, taking a deep breath like a stressed-out father when he was preparing for his kids to cause problems.
And, to be fair, Red and Aram were the youngest and wildest of all of us. They had barely had a chance to really enjoy hell before we were stuck on this human plane.
So they were having fun raising hell on earth while we were homesick.
The bike engines cut off, and the front doors burst open to the sound of Red's throaty laughter.
"Anybody home?" she called a second before sauntering into the study. "So predictable," she said, sighing.
Red was almost absurdly good-looking. It made her good at what she did in this club. She was tall and lean with big tits, nice hips, and a round ass. Her face was an inverted triangle, a wide forehead with a softly pointed jaw. She had high cheekbones under bright blue eyes. And her hair was an almost unnatural shade of red, the flicker of flames in a fire, which she wore long and curly down near to her waist.
Aram was darker-skinned, black-haired, black-eyed, tall, fit, and covered in tattoos that he would only have to have re-stuck in a couple decades, but I guess the bastard just liked the look. And the pain.
But, like Drex, Aram was always up for a fight, got off on the bloodshed, and the ache after. No matter how short lived.
"Did we miss anything?" Red asked, reaching for a bottle of vodka, and throwing some back.
"The new witch is here," Ace said.
"Does this one cry all night?" Red asked, lip curling.
"She makes it pour rain when she's sad," Ace told them, sighing.
"Drag," Red said, rolling her eyes. "Glad she's not in a shit mood tonight. Aram and I have been working overtime to get people to come tonight. It should be packed."
"Good," Drex said, standing, cracking his neck. "I'm itching to do a little corrupting," he said, winking at Red.
"Who set up the music?" Aram asked, casting a dubious glance around the room. "Don't say it is Minos. That angsty shit nearly ruined the last party."
"Ace did," I supplied.
"Shit," Aram complained, sighing, running a hand through his hair. "It's not all classical is it? I am going to look it over," he said before Ace could respond, moving off to do so.
"Speaking of Minos, where is our resident curmudgeon?" Red asked, looking around.
"You know him," Ace said, shrugging. "He doesn't come out until the guests arrive."