Chosen (Slayer 2)

“Any incubus or succubus demons here?” Not that it would matter if there were. I couldn’t exactly ask them for details on how Leo came back long enough to return my powers without admitting that I killed his mom—a succubus—and prevented his incubus father from coming back to earth. I doubt any relatives would be fans of mine.

“They’re quite rare, yeah? Heavily hunted in the last few centuries. Endangered species.”

“Well, that makes me feel great.”

Doug sniffles. “I can tell.”

There’s a booth ahead of us covered by a thick velvet curtain. A man—human—stumbles out with a dazed expression. He blinks several times, then catches us staring and blushes deep red, hurrying in the other direction.

“What’s in there?” I reach for the curtain.

“I wouldn’t.” Doug gestures for me to follow. We duck behind the booth and see a grublike creature getting plumper as we watch. It’s as big as my thigh, and the impulse to step on it is almost overwhelming. Except then I’d have it all over my boots, and I really like these boots. Also, I’m trying really hard not to have violent impulses in here, just in case the door guardians can come inside.

It’s … harder than I want it to be. None of these demons are hurting me—or at least actively hurting me, because sucker-hands definitely didn’t have my best interests at heart—but I can feel something building in me the longer I’m in here. My hands crave a weapon. It’s not that I’m nervous or worried. I’m ready. Eager, even. And that is enough to make me nervous and worried.

“Feeds on lust,” Doug says about the maggoty thing. “Go in that booth and it’ll project whatever will trigger the most lust in you. I mean, if you want to find out …”

“No. Nope. Super nope. All the nope in the whole world.” I don’t even want to imagine what I would see in that curtain. And I definitely don’t want to imagine whatever I see and feel making this horrid, bristle-covered grub fat and happy.

I know the only person I’ve ever truly lusted after. The idea that I might see Leo makes me feel sick inside for any number of reasons. I want to see Leo again, but not like this.

“Most of them work in the high-end gentlemen’s clubs. This one is probably young, using the convention as an audition.” Doug leads me back out to the floor. Then he brightens and shouts. “Jason! Jason!” He waves to a demon with the same coloring. They cross the floor and grab each other’s necks, pressing their foreheads together so their horns touch.

“Doug! We thought you were dead!”

“May as well have been. How are you? How’s Janet?”

“Fantastic! We had a litter!”

“No! How many?”

“Twelve! Eleven boys and one girl. Here, I have photos.” The other demon pulls out his phone and swipes through twelve identical photos of neon-yellow babies carefully swaddled and staring solemnly at the camera. Their skin is solid, no black cracks running through it, and their horns have barely broken through.

“Cute,” I say. And I mean it. They are pretty cute.

“Thanks! And you are …” He wrinkles his nose and looks in alarm at Doug. “She’s a dine and dash, right? You’re not feeding off that regularly. You’ll make yourself sick.”

“Rude.” I’m more offended than I should be, but it gets old being told you’re not delicious.

Doug covers quickly. “Sorry, right, Nina, this is my cousin, Jason. Jason, Nina. Nina’s my friend. She saved me.”

“Saved you from what?” Jason asks.

I shuffle awkwardly. “Do you two need to catch up? I can give you a few minutes.”

Doug squeezes my shoulder gratefully. “Don’t wander too far. Don’t let anyone touch you if it seems like they really want to.”

“And be sure to hit booth seventeen,” Jason says.

“Do not hit booth seventeen,” Doug corrects, glaring at his cousin.

“What? She could use some.”

Doug points out where they’ll be—a group of chairs near the far wall—and I agree to meet him in half an hour. I don’t mind wandering on my own. Doug can get info on anyone Jason might know who needs help, and I can stare. I recognize only a handful of the demon varieties here. I’m a little offended on my Watcher heritage’s behalf, but the truth is we only focused on the most common and most threatening. There are more demons and more hell dimensions than we could ever truly catalog. That won’t stop Rhys from trying, though.

At first it’s fun, like wandering through a department store all decked out for a baffling holiday. But after a while I notice the bright exteriors and fun booth designs aren’t matched by the general tone of the demons.

I catch several hushed conversations trying to locate missing friends and relatives. The closing of all portals and hellmouths left so many demons orphaned here. Two demons huddle, their heads close and their fingers linked. I could swear they were crying, and the waves of sadness coming off them are almost palpable. I reach up to find tears streaming down my face.