Chapter 2

I strolled into the dimly lit bar, the smoky haze curling around the low lighting, giving everything a familiar, gritty warmth. The place was buzzing with the usual mix of demons, half-breeds, and other unsavory characters that crawled through the underworld. My body still ached from the latest assignment Lucian had sent me on. I was low on energy, but not so low that I couldn’t make it through one more night without feeding. Besides, I wasn’t in the mood to indulge just yet.

Sliding onto a worn barstool, I caught the bartender’s eye—a hulking demon with curling horns and a face that could curdle milk. He slid me a glass of hellfire whiskey without a word. I knocked it back in one go, relishing the familiar burn as it coated my throat and settled in my gut. The alcohol gave me a brief, comforting buzz, but it wasn’t enough to shake the growing exhaustion.

I leaned against the bar, scanning the room. I wasn’t really paying attention to the noise until I caught a snippet of a conversation behind me—just loud enough to pull me in.

“Yeah, man, I’m telling you, she was something else. Hottest goth chick I’ve ever seen. Fucking crazy, too.” The voice was slurred, clearly drunk, but my ears perked up.

“Really?” the companion responded, amused but disinterested. “They’re all crazy.”

“No, no. You don’t get it,” the first voice insisted, louder now. “I fed on her. Full force. She let me, man. And… get this—she survived.”

I turned slightly, just enough to get a look at them through the mirror behind the bar. Two Halflings, drunk and oblivious to the fact that they were talking too loudly for their own good. My fingers tightened around my glass as I listened.

“Wait… she survived?” the second one asked, now clearly interested. “That doesn’t happen. What’d you do? Let her go halfway?”

“No, man! Full force! I was draining her energy, and she just laid there, taking it. Didn’t flinch. When I finished, she was still breathing. Pale as death, but breathing. I swear, I thought I’d killed her.”

I swallowed the rest of my whiskey, setting the glass down a little harder than I intended. A human who could survive a demon’s feeding without turning into a lifeless husk? Now that was worth investigating.

I slid off my stool and made my way over to them, casual and unhurried. The Halflings barely noticed me until I was standing beside them, casting a long shadow across their table.

“Sounds like quite the experience,” I said smoothly, slipping into their conversation as if I’d been there all along. I offered a sly grin, letting my curiosity play through my expression. “Mind telling me more about this girl of yours?”

The first Halfling blinked up at me, clearly not used to being interrupted, especially by someone like me. His eyes darted to the second Halfling before he gave me a lazy grin. “Yeah, she was somethin’ else. Pale, dark eyes, tattoos all over. Dressed like a walking nightmare. You know the type.”

I nodded, feigning amusement. “Sounds… unique.”

“More than that,” he continued, emboldened by my interest. “She didn’t even seem scared. Most mortals beg for their lives when we feed, but not her. Just laid there, all calm and shit.”

“And you found her where, exactly?” I asked, leaning in a little closer. “I might have to see this for myself.”

The Halfling squinted at me, clearly considering whether or not to share more. His friend nudged him, urging him on.

“Outskirts of the city,” he finally muttered. “Some shitty little dive. No idea what she was doing there, but… trust me, you’d want a taste.”

I let a slow grin spread across my face, as if I was genuinely impressed. “She sounds like she might be worth the trip.” I leaned back, pretending to lose interest, though inside I was already planning my next move. “Though, I have to ask—why are you sitting here bragging about her if she’s that good? Wouldn’t you keep that to yourself?”

The Halfling blinked, the drunken fog clearing just enough for suspicion to cross his face. “Well… you know…” He fumbled for an explanation, but it was too late. I’d already heard enough.

I stood up, straightening my jacket. “Thanks for the tip,” I said, my voice taking on a harder edge. “I’ll be sure to check her out.”

The Halfling’s eyes widened, and before he could react, I had him by the throat. My grip tightened, cutting off his breath, and in one swift motion, I snapped his neck. His friend scrambled back, knocking over chairs in his haste to get away.

I dropped the Halfling’s lifeless body, straightening my jacket again before slipping a few bills onto the table. No sense leaving loose ends—or debts.

The bar’s noise continued around me as if nothing had happened. No one cared. This was Hell, after all. I left the bar without a second glance, the address already burned into my mind.

It didn’t take long to track down the house. The city’s outskirts were exactly what I expected—run-down, forgotten by most of Hell’s inhabitants. The house stood out only in its mediocrity. It was the kind of place that blended in with the background, unremarkable, except for the energy I could sense inside.

I slipped through the front door with ease, my shadows carrying me inside. The house was small, cluttered with personal items. Photos on the wall, strange trinkets, and a distinct smell of lavender mingled with something else—something I couldn’t quite place. I climbed the stairs silently, moving through her home like a ghost.

Her bedroom door was cracked open, and I slipped inside. The moonlight cast a soft glow over her room, highlighting the pale grey of her hair as it spilled across the pillows. She looked peaceful, her chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths.

I stood there for a moment, just watching her. She seemed so ordinary, lying there in her bed, but I knew better. No one survived what she had without being something more.

My eyes drifted around the room. The walls were covered in posters of cryptids and horror films, the kind of things that would give most mortals nightmares. I smirked at the irony.

A chipped mug on her nightstand caught my attention—Mothman Is My Boyfriend—and I couldn’t help but chuckle under my breath. Of course. This girl was something else, alright.

I moved around the room, taking in every detail. Books stacked on the floor, half-finished sketches on her desk, clothes strewn across a chair. Everything about this space screamed of someone who lived more in her head than in reality. And yet, here she was, alive and breathing when she shouldn’t have been.

I paused by the bed, looking down at her again. She had no idea what was coming. No idea that I was standing there, watching her, trying to unravel the puzzle she had become.

I reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, watching her breathe so peacefully. She had no idea what she’d gotten herself into. No idea what kind of power she had drawn to her.

My gaze flicked to a crumpled piece of paper peeking out from underneath her pillow. Curiosity got the best of me, and I tugged it free, careful not to wake her.

A grocery list.

Milk, coffee, eyeliner…

A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. So human. So mundane.

But then, something at the bottom caught my eye. A signature, scribbled in smudged ink, but clear enough.

Daphne Black.

“Daphne…” I whispered her name under my breath, testing how it felt on my tongue. It suited her. Dark, alluring, mysterious.

For now, I’d leave her be. There was no rush. I had all the time in the world to figure her out.

As I slipped back into the shadows, disappearing into the night, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of anticipation. She was different. And soon, I’d find out exactly how different she really was.