Chapter 6 Evie
EVIE
Tattoos cover his body—coating his fingers, hands, forearms, swirling up his neck—giving way to a face that looks like it was carved from marble. He’s death incarnate, sin mixed with my darkest desires and given life.
Oh god. I’m so fucked. Sorry, God! I think automatically before chiding myself.
If there is a God, and He really can hear my thoughts, I’m already condemned ten times over.
Maybe there is, and this is the sick bastard’s way of punishing me.
Some cosmic karma for not being faithful enough—for questioning.
But if I am going to hell, I want to go out swinging.
“Mine.” The word spills from his soft lips, sounding like a snarl.
A warning that resonates deep in my core.
The towering man tilts his head, the movement like a predator toying with its next meal.
My heartbeat skips, my breath coming in short, ragged bursts as I prepare—for what?
They have me boxed in, and it’s not like I could fight the two-hundred-plus pounds of stacked muscle before me.
“Easy,” the one behind me says, tossing his helmet with a purple lion to the one in red below. I turn to glare at the blonde-haired asshole, but his blue eyes aren’t looking at me as he takes a step back, moving further up the stairs. “No touching the new girl, right?”
“Enough, Erik,” the one before me growls. But the others are already moving. My pulse spikes as the rest follow suit—retreating, conceding my life to the beast of a man still poised inches from me. Chest heaving, I turn, swallowing down my panic as I watch the dark-haired villain observe me.
His fingers flex, curling as if memorizing the shape of my face. The slight movement draws my focus to the tattoo along his neck: the number seven with a serpent coiled around it—exactly like the symbol etched on the door.
My pulse thrums in my ears, my knuckles white, nails digging into my palms. Wait one goddamn minute. Is this some shitty catfish situation? This bastard pretends to be Tempest to lure me here and… what? Kidnaps me? Sells me to the highest bidder?
“Is this about my father?” I ask, proud of the way my voice doesn’t waver. “Because he’s not the type of guy to pay a ransom. If you let me go, I’ll go to the house and grab whatever I can—”
“We don’t want your money, Evie,” the one hovering on the stairs says—Erik. “Silas is being very dramatic at the moment, but I assure you, we’re perfectly nice people.”
“You’re not leaving, little fox.” Silas’s deep voice rumbles, low and seductive, as he closes the distance between us.
“Not helping.” The blonde one grins, extending a hand. “I’m Erik.”
There’s a snort to the left, from a man with dark blue, spiraling ram horns on the side of his helmet.
He tugs it free, his deep cerulean eyes landing on Erik with playful disbelief.
His black hair is cropped short, dark skin lined with tattoos like the others, and I realize his black shirt is actually a deep navy blue.
“And I’m Dominic,” he says, batting away Erik’s still-outstretched hand. A casually cocky smile tilts his lips, striking the perfect balance between confidence and flirtation. “Unlike Erik and his pride, I know casual introduction doesn’t mean you’re going to sleep with us.”
My cheeks blaze scarlet as Silas’s fists flex. A murmur of low chuckles rises from the rest as they each remove their helmets.
“Fuck off, Lust,” Erik grumbles, shoving Dominic’s shoulder. “I wasn’t trying to sleep with her.”
“Lust?” I ask, curiosity dragging the word from my lips as something dark stirs in the back of my mind.
“That’s right,” Dominic answers. “Along with Sloth and Pride and all the rest of the Princes of Hell.”
“Stop, Dominic,” Silas snaps. “She doesn’t need to be bombarded with all this sin shit.”
“Wait,” I say, glancing at the three lingering behind Dominic—Lust. And Sloth and Pride… and the number seven displayed on their helmets.
My blood runs cold as a dawning realization takes hold. I thought luck was on my side when I found this listing—a single room within walking distance of classes and priced at half the cost. I swallow against the churning of my stomach, fighting the urge to run.
“What thoughts are swirling beneath those eyes of yours?” Silas asks, his voice a whisper along the back of my neck. It takes everything in me not to flinch, not to run. Lifting my chin, I force myself to speak the accusation out loud.
“I think this is the home of the Seven, the most ruthless motorcycle gang in Southern California. Images of them vanish within minutes of being posted—except for the ones with masks. All charges are dismissed on the grounds of insufficient evidence. Even crimes involving…”
“Murder.”
Silas’s voice rumbles behind me, vibrating through every cell in my body.
The word should scare me. It’s an admission as much as anything, but the heat of his breath on my neck, the scent of leather and spice filling the air, short-circuits my thoughts.
My breathing hitches as his boots echo with each step he takes, bringing the predator into view.
“Erik’s lion of Pride, Dominic the devil’s goat of Lust,” Silas continues, pointing to each of his brothers in turn. “Then there’s Mavros, Adrian, Noctis, and Bane.”
The others shift, moving to stand behind him.
And I realize I know who each of them is.
Mavros, with the red, snarling bear, must be Wrath.
Adrian, with the golden dragon coveting treasure, is Greed.
Noctis and Bane are harder to place. I glance between them before my eyes snag on the light-blue bull tattooed on the forearm of the one called Noctis.
“The Bull of Belphegor,” I breathe, more to myself than to them. “I always thought his condemnation was harsh.”
“Is that so?” Noctis asks, his voice almost encouraging me to work through my thoughts.
I nod. “He didn’t partake in Lucifer’s rebellion, but stood idly by. That was enough to get him banished to hell. But once he got there…”
“Keep going, little fox,” Silas purrs, lifting Noctis’s hand to show off the bull. “What was Belphegor’s greatest sin?”
“Inventions,” I reply, licking my lips as Silas drops Noctis’s hand and steps forward. Striking emerald eyes pierce through me, compelling me to continue. “In hell, Belphegor created Pandemonium—the Palace of Demons. And for humans, he bestows the power of discovery.”
“Discovery—questioning the world around us—should never be a sin,” Silas murmurs, forcing me to crane my neck to hold his gaze. “Don’t you agree?”
I swallow under the weight of his stare, sensing something shift between us.
“Answer me, little fox,” Silas demands. “I don’t like when my playthings disobey.”
My eyes narrow, Silas’s words echoing in my head as he mouths the word: Mine.
Mine. As if I’m not a full person by myself—with thoughts and questions and fucking dreams. I almost ended everything, preferring the possibility of an afterlife rather than spending one more second trapped in my current one.
But college is supposed to be my chance to start over.
And I’m not about to let a group of arrogant assholes fuck it up.
“I’m not yours.”
I ram my knee into his balls, causing Silas to double over. I dart around him, aiming for the door as he spews curses behind me. Adrenaline courses through my veins as I reach for the handle—only to find it turning before I make contact.
“Evie, is that you?” A feminine voice cuts through the panic gripping my body.
A short, curvy figure with long black hair framing heavily lined eyes and a flawless, makeup-adorned face pushes through the group.
She’s wearing shorts and a casual tank top, but they might as well be designer clothes by the way she moves in them.
More importantly, she looks just like her pictures from online—Tempest.
Silence lingers for a moment before Erik speaks. “Yep. We were just welcoming Evie to the pack.”
“Oh good,” Tempest says, shutting the door before kicking off her sandals. “I lost track of time in the library and was worried Evie would have to move everything by herself.”
The edges of her smile dip as her footsteps falter, taking in the slight swell of my ankle, the scrape on my knee, my disheveled hair, and the sweat coating every inch of my body. Her gaze shifts to the men around me, narrowing on Silas. “What did you do?”
“Don’t be like that, baby,” Erik says, throwing an arm around Tempest as he shoots me a lopsided smirk. “Your big brother would never do anything to upset your new friend. Evie is fine.”
Brother? My eyes widen, darting from a narrow-eyed Tempest to Silas, who looks like he’s debating whether to kick me out of the house or pin me to the wall. I bite my lip, not sure which option frightens me more.
“Aren’t you, Evie?” Erik prompts. The others shift, seeming to wait for me to give them a pass on everything that’s just happened.
“Enough, Erik,” Tempest says, shoving him off her. “Evie will be all right if you idiots back the fuck up and give her some space.”
“No need to get all stormy.” Erik smirks, barely managing to avoid a second shove.
“Take your boots off and set them by the door,” Tempest orders, hands on her hips.
“All of you. And why are your helmets tossed about in my hallway? Erik and Silas, help move the rest of Evie’s things to her room.
As for the rest of you, I expect the floors to be swept and mopped by the time we return downstairs. ”
A low grumble rings through the group as they heed her instructions, but my attention is fixed on Silas.
His eyes burn with calculation and hunger, the blacks of his pupils dilating so wide that only traces of emerald green peek out around them.
The fine hairs on the back of my neck rise as he holds my gaze.
My mother warned me against men like him—the kind who destroy worlds with sinful smirks and whispered promises.
Everything in my body is screaming for me to run, to hide from the monster before me, but that broken piece of my soul—the one that craves humiliation and pain nearly as much as it longs for love—wants to toy with the beast.
I wonder what it would be like to be kissed by someone like him. My tongue sweeps across my bottom lip, drawing the soft flesh between my teeth.
His jaw ticks, nostrils flaring as he takes a step toward me. The scent of leather and something darker swirls between us as the heat of his body brushes against mine. My heart pounds, unsure if I want him to make good on the punishment in his eyes, or if I’d rather disappear on the spot.
I’m saved from making a decision as Tempest loops her arm through mine and tugs me past him toward the stairs.
“Come on,” she says, her teeth flashing as our footsteps squeak against the wooden floorboards. “We have to get ready.”
I blink, my mind still half focused on the hulking figure following after us with a box clasped in his hands. “Get ready for what?”
Tempest looks me over with an assessing grin as we reach the second floor, raising a perfectly sculpted brow at my disheveled state.
“To celebrate your arrival. I took the liberty of stocking your en suite with a few things, seeing as how school starts tomorrow.”
She leads the way into my bedroom, flipping on the lights.
“That’s so thoughtful,” I say, genuine warmth blooming in my chest. “Thank you.”
“It’s just shampoo, girl.” Tempest laughs, heading toward the door. “Towels are under the sink. Silas and Erik will stack whatever’s left in the hall. Come downstairs when you’re finished, and I’ll introduce you to the gang before we head out.”
Something must shift in my gaze, because Tempest’s smile stretches. “They really aren’t as scary as they look.”
“Of course,” I say, forcing a smile back in place. “Wait—what do you mean by ‘head out’?”
Tempest’s lips tilt at the edges, and for a moment, the resemblance to Silas is nearly overwhelming.
“Have you ever been to a nightclub?”