My Funny Demon Valentine (Hell Bent #1)

Chapter 1

1

T h e Begi nn i n g of a Bad Joke

A smodeus, Belial, Mephistopheles, and Raum walked into the smoky nightclub. Not smoky because people were smoking—apparently, that particular indulgence had been outlawed several decades ago—but because a bunch of machines were pumping it out like it was oxygen. To make it look like the smoke from cigarettes that had been outlawed.

Stupid. Humans could be so stupid it baffled the mind.

Asmodeus followed his brothers through the crowd toward the bar, ever aware of his surroundings despite the music pounding in his chest and piercing his ears.

That was part of the fun of Earth. Everything was always too much or not enough. A little too hot or too cold, too salty or too sweet, too loud or too quiet. There was always some lack, something that could be changed to make the moment more enjoyable. And it was never-ending—that was the beauty of it.

Belial clapped him on the shoulder with enough force to flatten a human. “Don’t think so hard, Ash. You might break something.”

Ash raised a brow. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“You never know,” Meph said over the din. “Humans are fragile. Pretty sure they could make themselves sick by thinking too much.”

The youngest of the four of them, Meph had covered every available inch of his skin with tattoos. His entire skull was covered under his short black hair, and the black-ink designs had leaked over onto part of his face. If that wasn’t enough, he’d filled that face full of holes—two rings on his bottom lip, one in the center of his nose, studs in one eyebrow, and a whole collection of shit in his ears. It had gotten to the point where his human form looked more demonic than a lot of demons.

“He’s not human, idiot,” Raum supplied, gold eyes glinting from beneath the hood of his oversized sweatshirt.

Meph punched him in the arm. “Shut it, fucknut.”

“You’re the fucknut, asshole.”

“You’re the asshole, fu—”

“Shut up,” Bel snapped at the argumentative pair. “We just got here. Can’t you wait at least an hour before you turn it into chaos? Look at all the women around you. Find something else to do.”

Meph and Raum did look and were quickly distracted. It was the point of this entire trip to the club, after all. For them it was, anyway. Ash’s days of boozing and carousing were long over. Now, he was the wallflower who lurked in the back with a scowl on his face.

Meph and Raum disappeared into the crowd on the hunt for carnal pleasures. It wouldn’t be difficult—part of their demonic nature was an allure that drew humans to them like moths to a flame. It made it easier to lure them into traps, and now that they weren’t bound by the rules, they were free to turn up that charm to the maximum.

Well, his brothers were free. Ash... not so much. Ash had no charm. Ash was the antithesis of charm. He tended to blend in—unfortunately, a little too well.

Belial ordered two shots of something and slid one across the bar to him. “So, we’re free. We actually did it.”

Bel tossed his shot back with a satisfied gasp. The blond-haired, blue-eyed giant was one of the most legendary demons of all time, one of the original angels to fall from Heaven at the start of creation, not that Bel remembered any of that anymore. Even in human form, he was seven feet tall, and his shoulders were at least twice the width of a normal man’s. It went without saying he attracted a lot of attention—the opposite of Ash.

“How’s it feel?”

Ash sipped his shot like it was water. Because that was what it tasted like. Part of his unique brand of suckiness—tasting and feeling nothing, color blindness, and the best one: partial invisibility. “The same.”

“The same? Really?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I mean, it’s all right.”

“God, you’re dull. No wonder no one else can stand you.” Bel grinned.

“The alcohol tastes like water.”

His face fell. “The curse didn’t change?”

“Nope.”

“Damn. I was hoping it would dampen or something after we escaped.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Maybe it’s just the taste thing?”

“It’s not. No humans have looked at me.”

“Maybe that’s because it’s dark in here.”

As if on cue, a woman approached Belial, wedging herself between them. “Hey.” She craned her head back to flutter her eyelashes at him. “Are you waiting for someone?”

The woman had spoken French—unsurprising, given that Montreal was a bilingual city—but they understood her easily. Demons could speak all languages as well as intuitively adopt the current colloquialisms of wherever they were. It helped them blend in among humanity and made them better manipulators.

Bel’s gaze darkened instantly, but he glanced at Ash. “Just talking to my brother.”

The woman turned and looked right at him before transferring her gaze back to Bel. “You want to dance?”

Belial was still looking at Ash. He was so tall, he just looked right over her head. “She sees you—”

“They always see me.” Ash switched back to English since that was the language they were most used to speaking. “I just don’t register in their minds as interesting. I might as well be cardboard. You know this.”

It wasn’t that he was ugly—he knew he wasn’t. It was just the nature of the damn curse.

“But—”

“It’s the same, Bel.”

“Damn it, I really thought you’d catch a break.”

Ash shrugged. He’d known nothing would change. “Go dance with the lady.”

“You wanna—”

“No.” No, he was not forcing himself on some poor human woman who would be no more attracted to him than she was to her dining room table. “I didn’t come here for that.”

“You’re a lust demon. You—”

“ Was a lust demon.” He’d lost that designation the day he’d been cursed. “Now go.”

With a sigh, Belial turned back to the woman, who fluttered her eyelashes again. They melted into the crowd together, Bel already bending down to whisper something in her ear that made her giggle in a manner that was, frankly, totally unappealing.

Maybe it was a good thing women here weren’t interested in Ash, because if all of them were like that, he was pretty sure he’d rather tear his ears off than listen to whatever noises they made during sex.

He leaned against the bar and got busy waiting for what was going to be a long night to pass. He wouldn’t begrudge his brothers their fun, nor would he leave the club in case shit went down and they needed his help. Just because they had successfully escaped didn’t mean they were in the clear.

Unauthorized Earth visits were expressly forbidden. Demons, with all their lies and manipulations, were always on special orders when they visited the human realm. Demons escaping their duty completely and leaving Hell unsanctioned? So against the rules, it wasn’t funny.

And yet, thanks to Belial being one of the most powerful beings in the underworld, the four of them had done just that. And now here Asmodeus stood, on sentry duty in a human nightclub, bored stiff, drinking alcohol that tasted like water and listening to music that made him wish his only properly functioning sense—his hearing—was as dulled as the others.

Just when he’d started losing the fight against his oncoming sour mood, something caught his eye. Up on the stage, a woman walked out carrying a violin. Taking over for the last DJ, she began setting up a keyboard beside the house turntables.

Her hair was wildly curly, falling to her shoulders, the top half tied in a bun on top of her head. Big hoops dangled from her ears, catching the lights in the club like diamonds. Her skin was dark, a similar shade to his brother Raum’s.

Her lips were full, and her eyes were big, almost too big for her face, but startlingly lovely. Not the dark shade he would’ve expected with her complexion, but an unusual light gray that was a striking contrast to her thick lashes. Or at least, they looked gray to Ash since he saw the world in black and white. But he didn’t need to see color to know she was beautiful.

And she would look at him like he was as sexy as a dishtowel.

Rolling his eyes, he forced himself to look elsewhere and forget the woman on the stage.

Until her set began.

Her music was still club beats, still pounding bass and electronic drums, but there was a symphonic aspect to it that was entirely unique thanks to the loops she was laying down live with her violin. His eyes were drawn back to the stage and riveted there.

She played like he hadn’t seen anyone play in two hundred years, her fingers and bow moving deftly across the strings like it was as natural as breathing. Sure, he’d seen thousands of talented musicians with great technical skill, but with her, there was something more. There was feeling . Soul. And the classical influence over the contemporary growling bass tones and artificial drums made an undeniably appealing combination.

He was intrigued. Impressed.

For the hour and a half she played, his night of waiting became an enjoyable concert. It didn’t matter that her music was meant for wild dancing; he enjoyed it in his own way. Standing like a statue by the bar, he cast the occasional eye across the club to be sure his brothers weren’t in any trouble and soaked up the music like the first heat of the sun in spring after a long winter. Or a tall glass of cool water after a long thirst. Or a pleasant breeze on a hot day. Or—

Damn, he was making similes. It must really be good.

Eventually, her set drew to a close, and he was forced to accept he would once again be on sentry duty sans the entrancing music. That was until Bel approached, arms around two attractive brunettes, closely followed by Raum, his arms around another two women, and Meph, in much the same manner.

“Ash!” Meph called out, grinning broadly. “We brought you a present!”

Ash groaned. “I told you—”

“There are four of us and six of them,” Bel said. The women under his arms stared up at him eagerly, utterly oblivious to Ash’s existence. “I told them we have another brother, and they’re down to share. They won’t notice you—”

“And that’s exactly my point.”

“They won’t mind you being there.”

“ I’ll mind me being there.”

“Lighten up, bro,” Raum said. “We’re finally free. Have some fun.”

How to explain to his brothers that “fun” didn’t mean having sex with women who found him as attractive as their old shoes? “No.”

Meph stuck out his pierced lower lip. “You’re such a buzzkill. How are we supposed to enjoy ourselves if we know you’re not?”

Ah yes, making it all about him—classic Meph.

“Piss off, all of you. I’m not interested.”

“But what about—”

“Hey!”

They turned toward the source of the voice, shouting to be heard over the music. It was the woman from the stage, the violinist. And she was looking right at him.

It didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t actually invisible, just uninteresting.

Looking like they hoped to add another female to the menagerie, Ash’s brothers disentangled themselves from their companions and stepped in front of him. It was a well-known fact that if they wanted to bed a woman, introducing her to Ash was a surefire way to prevent that from happening. Yeah, it sucked, but he’d long since gotten used to it.

“Hey,” Raum said.

“What’s your name?” Meph asked, offering a seductive grin.

They didn’t realize she’d been performing on the stage ten minutes ago—clueless idiots.

“Um, actually, I—” The woman appeared to be trying to see around their broad shoulders to something behind them.

“Are you looking for someone?”

“I wanted to talk to—”

“Maybe we can help you.”

“Well, actually—”

“Tell us what you need.”

“I wanted to talk to him!” She pushed past the overbearing demons and pointed directly in Ash’s face.

He froze. They all froze.

“Him?” said Bel.

“Uh, yeah.” She glanced between their incredulous faces. “Is that a problem?”

“Oh, no, it’s not a problem at all!” Meph looked delighted.

“Go ahead. He’s friendly.” Raum pushed her forward.

“Um, right, and does he speak?”

“Yeah,” Ash croaked. He was still speechless. The woman was talking to him, looking right at him.

Bel took the hint and steered everyone away, leaving Asmodeus with the violinist.

“Hey,” Eva said. Or rather, shouted over Kyle’s painfully loud trap beats. God, she hated trap. Why did Kyle always have to follow her set and kill the vibe?

“Hey.”

She was glad they’d started the conversation in English since her French wasn’t fluent, but in this case, it wasn’t helping her feel any less awkward. “I saw you. From the stage.”

The stranger’s eyes widened in astonishment. “You did?”

“Yeah. Watching my set.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Why was that so hard for him to believe?

He said nothing more, so she added, “Nobody else was listening. You know, big nightclub, lots of drunk people, not a big surprise. But I saw you watching, and I wanted to say thanks. It’s nice to have a real audience occasionally, you know?”

It had taken all the lady balls she had and more to approach this guy, and his disbelief was making it so much harder.

“I loved it,” he said, and she relaxed considerably.

“You did?”

“I haven’t heard anyone play the violin like that in two hundred years.”

“Uh, what?” She laughed.

“I mean...” Indigo-blue eyes shifted around. “In a really long time.”

“Right. Well, thanks.”

“I don’t usually like electronic music. I haven’t developed an ear for the mechanical sound of it. But yours... It was a perfect blend of new and old.”

“I— Wow, thanks.” He was a bit weird, but he gave great compliments. “A blend of new and old. You know, that’s exactly what I’m going for.”

“You’re achieving it.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him.

He smiled back. Holy hell, he was so attractive it burned her retinas.

She wanted to say that appreciation for her one and only attentive audience member was the only reason she’d approached him, but it wasn’t. She’d approached him because her one and only attentive audience member also happened to be the most drop-dead gorgeous man she had ever seen. Ever. It was almost surreal. Like she was looking at something that shouldn’t exist on Earth.

His skin was lightly tanned, and his hair... Whoa , his hair. It was jet black and dead straight, and it hung like a silky curtain to his freaking hips, with a few shorter strands falling over his face. A face that was... godlike. Perfect, sculpted cheekbones drew the eyes to a mouth that was made for pleasure, and his deep blue eyes were so bright she’d seen them all the way across the club.

She could stare at his face all day. She could compose symphonies about his face. It was incredible, it was—

Embarrassing as hell how she was gawking at him.

“I’m Eva.”

“Asmodeus.”

She choked. “Asmodeus? That’s your actual name?”

He nodded.

“Isn’t that like... a demon name?”

“It is.”

“So your parents named you after a demon? What, were you a really bad child or something?” She laughed weakly, but it died at the blank look on his face.

“You can call me Ash. It’s short for Ashmedai, another one of my names.”

How many names did he have? “Um, okay, Ash it is.”

He smiled a little, and it nearly blinded her. “And you’re Eva.”

“That’s me. Short for Evangeline.”

“Evangeline. I like that.”

“Thanks. Eva is my artist name too. All caps though, to make it more eye-catching.”

“You should get a banner for when you play.”

“You’re right. That’s a great idea.”

“Subconscious suggestions work. Repeatedly show someone an image of something, and it will become familiar, whether or not they consciously recognize it. It’s a simple way to make humans more impressionable.”

Humans? “Uh, yeah. You’re right.”

Ash shook his head like he couldn’t believe he was talking about the power of subconscious suggestion. That made two of them. “Never mind. I don’t usually— My brothers are the social ones.”

“Those guys you were with that tried to hit on me?”

He winced. “They’re going a little crazy since tonight is a bit of a celebration for us.”

“A celebration of what?”

“Escaping a bad situation. Starting over. Hopefully,” he added, scanning the club suspiciously.

He was definitely weird, but she was oddly charmed by it. And his unspeakable hotness didn’t hurt either. “Well, congrats. Why aren’t you partying with them?”

“I’m not into their kind of partying, but we have to stick together now that we’re on Ear— that we’re out. For safety.”

“Tight family, then.” Except, they couldn’t really be his brothers by blood, considering their drastically different appearances. But that was too personal to ask. In fact, she’d been practically drilling the poor guy with questions. He obviously wasn’t social, and here she was grilling him on his personal life. Way to go, Eva. Score one for Team Awkward As Shit.

“You listen to a lot of music?” she asked, and Team Awkward scored again.

Surprisingly, he shook his head. “I try to, but I don’t often get the chance.”

“Really? But you obviously know what you’re talking about. You summarized my whole style in like, five seconds.”

“I like music a lot, but I wasn’t allowed to listen before.”

“You weren’t allowed? Why not?”

“There’s no music where I’m from. It was only when I visited Ear— some places that I got to hear it. Now that I’m here I plan to enjoy it more.” He shrugged.

Damn, that was sad. No wonder they were celebrating.

“I work at this other club,” Eva found herself saying. “A jazz club. If you want, we could meet there sometime. They have a jam night once a week with all the best musicians in the city. I’d love to show it to you.”

He was staring at her like she’d sprouted horns. “You would?”

Had he never been asked out before? How was that possible, looking the way he did? In fact, why wasn’t every single woman in this club hanging off him like monkeys in a tree full of ripe bananas? His brothers had practically attracted a small army. And though his brothers were all gorgeous in that same surreal, godlike way, in her opinion, Ash was on a whole other level.

“Of course. If you want. No pressure.”

“I would like that.” He was still staring at her.

“Great.” Now was the part where he asked for her number so she didn’t have to embarrass herself anymore by doing all the asking herself. Except he said nothing, and she was forced to accept that if she actually wanted to take him out to the club, she’d have to organize it herself. So she took a breath and said, “So, what’s your number?”

“My what?”

“Your number? So I can text you and plan when we go to the club?”

“I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have one?” It was her turn to stare.

“I just escaped Hell— I mean, I’m new here. Haven’t had a chance to get a phone yet.”

“Oh.” He’d just escaped what now? “Well, I—”

“Can I have yours?”

He’d asked, thank god. Dignity preserved. She recited the digits to him, he repeated them back, and that was that. No writing them down, nothing. He either didn’t give a single shit about calling her, or he had an amazing memory. Since she had preserved her dignity, she decided not to ask.

They chatted for over an hour. He bought her a couple drinks, and she bought him a couple drinks. An hour became two. Occasionally one of his brothers would come by and slap him on the back and shout inappropriate things, and Ash would close his eyes as if pained and send them away. They ended up leaning in closer and closer, until they were talking into each other’s ears because they were more interested in what the other had to say than Kyle’s goddamn trap music.

Except then Eva got all hot and bothered by their proximity, the delicious spicy scent of him, and the way his silky hair brushed her cheek when he leaned in. Her skin burned all over, and she was pretty sure she was actually getting turned on, which was embarrassing. She’d started a slow rocking side to side to relieve the pressure, which was even more embarrassing.

Poor, unsuspecting Ash was asking her all these in-depth questions about her music production and songwriting process, and she was practically humping the bar because she was so hot for him.

The drinks added up, and she began to get tipsy and forget her inhibitions. She caught herself rubbing a strand of his hair between her fingers, quickly dropping her hand when she realized he was staring at her with wide eyes. Then, the innocent hand on his arm was sliding up to feel his bicep, which was so firmly muscular she could have cried. She yanked her hand back when she caught him staring yet again.

He looked at her like he’d never had a woman come on to him before. Even stranger was the fact that not one chick had even glanced at him. She was sitting here talking to the hottest man in the universe and no one else seemed to notice.

Not that she was complaining. More for her. Except she was losing her ability to keep her hands off him. He was too tempting to resist.

“Eva.” She wasn’t able to actually hear him over the music, but she read the word forming on his lips.

She stared at his perfect face. “God, you’re hot.”

His eyes widened.

“Shit, I said that out loud, didn’t I? No more drinks for me. I’m such a lightweight. Wow, this is embarrassing.”

“You’re attracted to me?”

“Uh, yeah. Hello. Have you seen your own face?” Damn it, damn it, damn it.

“Women aren’t usually attracted to me.”

“Are you kidding me?” she shouted. Alcohol or no alcohol, that was ridiculous. “You’re like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. I’m so freaking attracted to you, I can’t keep it in my pants— Oh my god, I can’t believe I said that. I’m sorry. I’m definitely shutting up now.”

He was staring at her again. “If I kissed you right now, would that be inappropriate?”

“What?”

“Because you’re under the influence of alcohol. Isn’t it considered wrong for a human male to initiate physical contact with an intoxicated female?”

She stared at him. “You say the weirdest shit, Ash. Human male? What are you, an alien?”

“Demon,” he said with a perfectly straight face, and she burst out laughing.

“I get it! Asmodeus. Demon name! Oh my god, that’s funny. Well, if you’re a demon, you shouldn’t care if it’s right or wrong, right?”

“Yes, but you’re human, and I’m trying to—”

“Honey, I may be a little tipsy, but if you don’t kiss me, I’m going to embarrass myself by kissing you first.” Damn, she was bold tonight. Or rather, alcohol was in her blood, making her say the stupidest shit.

But she couldn’t regret it, because the sexiest man on the planet leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

He kissed her like he was starved. Like he’d never kissed before. But not an awkward, virginal kiss either. His hand landed on the back of her neck, and he pried her lips apart and thrust his tongue inside her mouth like he was invading foreign land and staking his claim forever.

She moaned, way too turned on to be in the middle of a nightclub, and clutched weakly at his shoulders. Tugging her against him, he kissed her until her blood was rushing so fast, there was roaring in her ears.

He dragged his mouth away. “Shit, maybe that was too intense.” His eyes were heavy-lidded, burning with intensity.

“Are you kidding?” The rush had cleared the alcohol from her head. “That was amazing. The best.”

He smiled a lopsided grin that melted her insides and then leaned back in to kiss her again—

And that was when the gun went off.