Chapter 5 Onyx
ONYX
On Wednesday morning, Onyx flew from his loft to the gallery at top speed, beating his wings until they burned. It didn’t help.
He landed on the gallery roof, shoes hitting the building hard. Burning off that smidge of energy left him even more restless. He ruffled his feathers, stretching his wing muscles, and concentrated on the breeze swirling around him, trying to find any hint of calm.
There’d been no word from anyone since Sunday. He cracked his knuckles. Why the fuck did he think he’d hear from his brothers? They obviously didn’t need anything more from him after pawning off their task.
Nico had been silent as well. Onyx’s fire flared every time he thought of the man. He hadn’t exactly given out his phone number, but still. Shouldn’t Nico have updated him by now? Had he talked to that coven? Had Rowan been in touch?
It didn’t matter. Onyx didn’t even want to be involved, which only made his obsession more infuriating.
Onyx retracted his wings, skin itching as they transformed into large tattoos spanning his back—his other demon features were always hidden—and slipped on his shirt.
His fingers flew over the buttons, pale lavender fabric crisp against his overheated skin.
After tucking the shirt in and rolling the sleeves to his elbows, Onyx ran a hand through his hair.
There was no need for a mirror. He always looked amazing.
He didn’t have to think about his brothers or Nico. He was important in the human world, and there was more than enough to focus on with the gallery.
Onyx descended the ladder from the roof and climbed through the window to his office.
It was barely after sunrise, so there was no risk that Scott would be around.
Onyx crossed the room and opened the small fridge hidden in the wood-paneled shelving.
He pulled out a bag of blood and reached for a crystal glass.
On second thought, he abandoned the glass. He’d been famished lately. Nothing seemed to fill the pit inside him.
Onyx flopped into his desk chair and grabbed a metal straw out of his top drawer. He pierced it through the bag and cast a spell to heat the contents.
Maybe he needed to feed from a donor rather than a bag. It had never mattered before, but there had to be a reason everything was so off.
Onyx bought his blood from a vampire-run organization that sourced its product from magical community members. It was the easiest, most ethical way to feed. Onyx hadn’t fed from a person in decades. Perhaps the sheer length of time since feeling a pulse beneath his fangs was the problem.
As he sipped, he pulled out his phone. No messages.
He sucked on the straw until the blood was gone, drinking so fast his stomach cramped, leaving him no more settled now that he was full.
Onyx put the empty bag in the fridge to throw away later and pulled up his chat with Ollie and Harper. He’d named it Your Favorite Group Chat upon starting it, but figured it was time to change it up. He typed Not My Mates into the name field, then sent the group a text.
Onyx:
Let’s start our food tour with sushi. Dinner tonight?
Neither man would reply at this hour, so Onyx didn’t hold his breath. He set the phone down.
Ollie and Harper were growing on him. He’d been suspicious of Harper at the start, but who could blame him? It hadn’t helped that Ash, of all demons, had been the one claiming he’d found his mate.
He’d never admit it, but being around the little mates gave Onyx a soft, warm feeling. He loved knowing his brothers would care for the two young men better than anyone else ever could. He even liked knowing Ollie and Harper would care for his useless brothers.
Onyx didn’t need a mate like they did. He hated so many things about what the quest for mates had done to everyone, and to the world, but part of him still went mushy over the reality of the mating bond.
His brothers were assholes—well, Ash was, Dante was all right—but they still deserved happiness.
Onyx couldn’t suppress his joy that their little group had expanded. Ollie and Harper had the potential to be true friends, loving brothers like he’d always wanted. People who wouldn’t cast him aside or treat him as an afterthought.
Maybe that kind of family didn’t exist. Maybe real family was Lucifer, a brother who’d betrayed Onyx even after he gave up everything for him. Maybe real family was Ash and Dante, who made him want to scream more than anything else.
Maybe Ollie and Harper would get tired of him, too.
But until then, Onyx would enjoy the little mates. What else could he do? Wallowing was a stupid waste of time. He’d made his choice to fall from the Eternal Realm, so he’d make the most of his life on Earth.
Later that morning, Ollie texted to say he had plans tonight with a friend from work, but was free tomorrow. Harper eventually replied, apologizing profusely for being asleep and rushing off to work before responding—he really was a sweet, earnest young thing—and said tomorrow worked for him too.
Onyx agreed on tomorrow and tucked his phone away.
“You seem pleased,” Scott commented from his desk in the main gallery space.
“I am. Nothing business-related. I’m organizing my social calendar.”
Scott hummed. He looked impeccable as always? his silver hair styled and clothes flattering his trim form. If Onyx were to ever age, he’d have hoped to do it as Scott had.
“You’re always busy. How do you have the energy? Most nights I’m curled up with my cat.”
“So? That’s where you want to be. Maybe I need a cat.” Onyx imagined having a pet. It wasn’t something he’d ever done in his long life.
“If you’re serious, I can put you in touch with my friend who runs a shelter.”
“Let me mull it over.” Onyx wouldn’t get a pet on a whim, but maybe a cat would help fill the void that had opened inside him this week. He was beginning to suspect it wasn’t hunger after all.
But he needed something.
Maybe he needed to get laid. He hadn’t bothered since Ash had come into town and started pestering him with all the Lucifer nonsense, other than the one night he’d dragged his brothers to a club and found a delectable human couple to play with.
It had been too long since he’d relaxed like that.
Onyx had finalized the guest list for the new opening yesterday and emailed catering suggestions through to Scott, who’d handle the logistics of moving their current pieces into storage and staging the show with the artist. With no appointments that afternoon, there wasn’t much else Onyx needed to do, and Scott hated when he hovered aimlessly.
“I might head out early. If you have everything under control?”
Scott lifted a brow. “I always have this place under control.”
“I know, otherwise I wouldn’t have hired you.” They shared a smile. “Call if you get lonely.”
“You’re on my speed dial,” Scott assured him, and Onyx strolled out the front door.
There was an exclusive kink club he frequented, where he knew more than a few Doms who could get the job done, but it was too early in the day for that, and apps always soured his mood. Perhaps this was why he hadn’t gotten off in so long. He couldn’t seem to muster any enthusiasm.
Onyx checked his phone again. Still no word from anyone about telling the magic world that demons had returned.
Renewed anger jolted through him. Hadn’t Nico said they’d needed his help? Had Onyx fucked up the meeting with Rowan or something? Maybe Nico had gotten annoyed and decided he didn’t need Onyx after all.
Bitterness twisted Onyx’s insides. Why did he care if the witch was avoiding him? Onyx was good at not being left behind. If people didn’t like him, too fucking bad. He’d get that much more pleasure out of showing up unannounced.
Onyx searched The Herb Emporium online and booked a ride.
He preferred navigating the city on the ground, rather than flying—except for his morning commute to work.
Feeling like an actual part of human society kept Onyx in the moment.
He liked experiencing the city as humans did, even when that included the subway or midday traffic.
When he got there, The Herb Emporium turned out to be a small, rundown shop on a busy street. Nothing fresh paint wouldn’t fix. The building itself wasn’t badly designed.
How long had the shop been there? Had Nico bought the business from someone? He couldn’t have been running it since the sign was last painted. Nico wasn’t that old.
Onyx entered the shop. He preferred minimalism but acknowledged the homey charm of the packed shelves and handwritten signs.
Nico appeared from behind a curtain. “What are you doing here?”
Onyx’s spine stiffened. “I’m here to see Harper. Is that all right with you?”
“You don’t need my permission.” Nico leaned forward, arms braced on the counter. “Harper’s on his break.”
“Oh.” Onyx glanced around, heat rising in his cheeks. Why was he embarrassed? Fuck, he hoped it didn’t show. “When will he be back?”
“Half an hour.”
It was too long to wait. Onyx stalked toward the counter anyway. Nico had a stain on his apron. Probably good that he was wearing it, or he’d ruin his T-shirt.
Nico smiled at his approach, and Onyx wanted to wipe the look from his face. What was he so pleased about? Maybe he always smiled like that, which was even worse.
Onyx crossed his arms. “Did you talk to that coven?”
Nico pushed off the counter, his smile disappearing. “Yeah.”
Yeah. That was it? Onyx waved his hand. “And?”
Nico’s brows pinched. “And their leader died recently, so they have a lot on their plate. I didn’t want to saddle them with more bad news.”
“Demons returning isn’t bad news.”
Nico shrugged. “Maybe not.”
There was a beat of silence.
“That’s all you have to say?”
Nico frowned. “Did you want meeting notes?”
Onyx’s fire sparked in his gut. “No, I’m supposed to be helping. You were all worried about telling people, and what, now it’s fine? You told your friends, and that’s the end of it?”