63. Chapter Sixty-Three The Devil’s Paradise
Tess
Maverick and I arrived at Empire Decay Ink. The sign shone overhead, painting a neon glow across the darkened street. Lux and Stone were already waiting outside the door, their figures silhouetted against the quivering fluorescent storefront. I flashed them a tight smile, the anticipation knotting my stomach as I fumbled for the keys to unlock the heavy metal door. The hinges creaked in protest as I pushed it open, revealing the familiar interior bathed in the soft amber light of the overhead lamps.
The air inside was stagnant, having been empty so long, but the faint aroma of sage remained, all contrasting with the cool autumn breeze outside. The three of them followed me inside, their presence a reassuring anchor amidst the swirling uncertainties inside me, despite being a big reason they existed at all.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked Lux as I prepared the equipment.
“No doubt in my mind, Tess,” Lux replied confidently, his eyes meeting mine with unwavering resolve.
He wanted a dagger on his chest, a symbol of strength and protection. We spent twenty minutes browsing through examples on Pinterest, scrolling through countless options until we found a few that resonated with him. We discussed the details—the hilt’s intricate design, the blade’s sharpness, and the subtle shading.
I pulled out my sketchbook and pencil, my hands moving with practiced ease as I sketched the outline. The graphite lines took form quickly, forming the image of the dagger that would soon adorn Lux’s chest. He watched intently, his expression that of both anticipation and approval. The scratch of the pencil on paper was accompanied by the steady tapping of my foot, a subconscious attempt to calm my nerves.
Once satisfied with the sketch, I showed it to him. “What do you think?”
“It’s perfect.” His voice tinged with admiration, and the approval in his eyes gave me a surge of confidence.
The sharp antiseptic smell filled the room as I cleaned the area on his chest. I shaved the skin meticulously, ensuring a smooth canvas for the artwork to come. “Let me know if you need a break at any point.” He gave me a reassuring nod, his lips curving upwards.
I transferred the stencil onto Lux, the purple lines stark against his skin. I wiggled my toes and began tracing the outline, the needle’s buzz filling the room. The first touch of the needle to his skin was always the hardest part, the moment when ink met flesh, and the transformation began.
The ink joined with the metallic tang of blood as I worked, the machine’s vibration running up my arm. I focused on each line, the world narrowing down to the small section of skin beneath my hands. The rhythmic hum of the machine was almost hypnotic, the sound blending with the atmospheric music and the soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead.
“I’m next,” Maverick urged from behind me.
“No way. You go into stasis, and I get a break from you. Win-win.”
“That’s not how win-win works, Tess.”
I grinned, remaining focused on my work. “Isn’t it?”
I paused the tattoo gun as an unexpected silence fell over the room. His lack of laughter unsettled me. Had I angered him? Despite my seething resentment—and my desperate wish to truly hate him—the thought of him being upset with me was surprisingly distressing. Confused by my conflicting emotions, I needed to gauge his reaction. I lifted the needle and turned to catch his eye.
He simply shook his head. “Please.”
I sighed, turning back to Lux’s tattoo and the dagger’s design. “Don’t you want to wait and see if it kills Lux first?”
“It’s not going to kill Lux.”
Lux remained still, his breathing steady, and his muscles relaxed. He was a perfect canvas, trusting and resilient. He’d suggested that he be the test subject, but I didn’t like the idea of tattooing all three of them without knowing what the effect would be. If they were so confident, I thought, maybe I should tattoo myself before them. That way, if anything went wrong, I wouldn’t have to feel guilty.
As I continued, the dagger took form, each line and curve adding to the overall design. The atmosphere in the room was charged with concentration, the intensity of the moment broken only by the occasional soft exhale from Lux or the rustle of my equipment.
I broke the silence with my idea about going next with an enchanted tattoo. “Maybe I should do me first.”
“You do me, I’ll do you,” Maverick responded without hesitation. It sounded to me like he was confessing an undisclosed experience with tattooing.
I pulled the gun back and turned to him. “You know how to use a tattoo gun?”
“I’m sure I can figure it out.”
I rolled my eyes and went back to Lux’s tattoo. “Oh, if a girl can do it, you can, huh?”
He groaned. “No, Tess, but I’ve been alive for thousands of years, and eventually, you learn how to learn things quickly. There’s a lot of misogynist assholes out there, but I’m not one of them. I swear to every goddess that has ever graced the universe to strike me dead here and now.”
I stopped again, gazed up at the ceiling and then out the window. I stretched my back, waited, and watched outside a little longer. Stone laughed. I did a little shifty eye movement to make it clear I was watching for his lightning bolt. When it didn’t come, I raised an eyebrow. “That’s quite an oath.”
“And here I stand. Happy?”
I returned to Lux, who was smiling at us, amused with our antics. “Quite disappointed, actually.”
Stone laughed. “She is perfect for you, asshole.”
I didn’t break away from my work as I responded to Stone. “Um, excuse me. Take that back.”
“Sorry, Tess, it’s true.” Stone chuckled with his hand on his stomach .
“Yeah well, there’s a reason for that,” I muttered. It wasn’t like we just happened to find each other and fit together well. No, my soul was cursed and tied to his so we could both be miserable forever. What a destiny to have.
Hours seemed to blur into minutes as I worked and we chatted, the dagger on Lux’s chest slowly coming to life. The shading added depth, the blade appearing almost three-dimensional against his skin. When I finally finished, I leaned back, admiring the piece. It was a work of art, a dedication to the future.
“Done.” My voice was thin with exhaustion and pride as Lux examined his new tattoo. A broad smile spread across his face.
“Very good, Tess. Thank you.”
With trembling hands, I began the process of cleaning the fresh tattoo. My excitement mingled with a potent cocktail of hope and anxiety as I gently applied the antiseptic. Each careful dab, a silent plea to whatever forces might be listening.
As I covered his skin with a protective layer, the significance settled over me. This wasn’t just ink on skin. If it worked—if it prevented the need for stasis, or even just delayed it—the implications were staggering.
I smoothed the edges of the dressing, my mind racing. If it worked, this tattoo would be a shield of protection and strength etched into Lux. And if it worked for him...
Maybe all of us.
Forever.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine, equal parts exhilaration and fear. Hope blossomed in my chest, fragile but insistent. After all, losing a week to stasis every time I lost it with Maverick was more than just inconvenient—it was stealing precious moments of my life.
A life I just took back .
As I finished, I let my hand linger over the covered tattoo. So much rested on this small patch of skin.
Our future, our freedom, perhaps even our survival. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the wait ahead. Only time would tell if our gamble would pay off, but for now, that tiny spark of hope was enough.
“My turn.” Maverick sat down in my chair with all the arrogance I’d come to expect… and hated to love. But it was midnight by then, and I was tired.
“Maybe tomorrow, I’m exhausted.”
His features softened, and he nodded. “Alright, you should get some rest.”
I started cleaning the equipment while Stone and Lux chatted in the corner, Maverick wiping things with antiseptic as I handed them to him.
The door chimed, its bell tinkling softly—a sound that suddenly seemed ominous in the quiet shop. A burst of cold air swept through the room, raising goosebumps on my bare arms. My breath caught in my throat as I glanced up, a nameless dread already clawing at my insides.
Time slowed as the impossible became reality before my eyes.
Ivan…
The monster I’d thought—prayed—was dead.
…Now stood in the doorway, larger than life.
Menacing as ever.
Twice as terrifying.
My body reacted before my mind could process the horror. My heart slammed against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of fear. Bile rose in my throat, bitter and burning, as a decade of nightmares avalanched into me all over again. My legs trembled, threatening to give way, but terror kept me rooted to the spot .
Ivan strutted in, his sinister clown face a macabre mask to haunt the darkest of dreams. Dressed all in black, his presence seemed to suck all the oxygen from the room. Our eyes met, and the gleam of cruel amusement rang clear in his dark gaze. That smugness played at the corners of his lips—the predator always savoring the fear of his prey.
With a dramatic flourish, he waved his hands over his head, and an opaque bubble shimmered over him. The shop’s lights shuttered strangely through the magical barrier, creating an almost strobe-light effect over Ivan’s painted face.
I wanted to scream.
To run.
To wake up from this nightmare.
I nearly made it.
Almost broke free of him.
But it was too good to be true.
Just like I’d told Oscar.
My voice was trapped, my muscles frozen. All I could do was watch, horror and revulsion washing over me in waves as the villain stepped back into my present.
Before my frozen muscles could respond, Maverick sprang into action. His powerful form coiled and released like a striking cobra, lunging at Ivan with a ferocity born of desperation. My heart leaped with a sudden, wild hope—
Only to plummet as Maverick slammed into the invisible barrier with a sickening thud.
The impact reverberated through the shop, and I winced as if I’d felt it myself.
Maverick stumbled backwards.
His face was a mask of bewilderment and fury .
The realization hit me like a physical blow: Ivan’s bubble wasn’t just for show.
It was an impenetrable shield conjured from thin air.
He’d grown more powerful, just as I’d feared.
A low chuckle began to build, growing into a full-throated laugh that seemed to come from everywhere at once. Ivan’s laughter—that awful, familiar sound—wormed its way into my ears, burrowing deep into my psyche.
Icy fingers of dread crawled up my spine.
I shuddered violently.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood rigid, my skin crawling as if trying to escape my body.
I wanted to clap my hands over my ears,
Shut out that terrible sound.
But I couldn’t move.
Ivan’s laughter echoed off the walls, growing louder, more manic.
It filled the shop, filled my head, until I thought I might shatter from the sheer malevolent glee of it.
In that moment, I realized with sickening clarity that our last hope of escape had just evaporated like mist in the sun.
We were trapped at the mercy of a madman with none to give.
“I should have known Tess would appropriate all my hard work the moment I disappeared for a few minutes,” he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. “It doesn’t matter. I have better ideas anyway.”
“The circus,” I muttered, the word slipping out before I could stop it. It was as if a switch had flipped in my mind, a sudden, inexplicable clarity that made my heart race.
The moment he mentioned his ‘better ideas,’ I knew exactly what he meant.
It wasn’t a vision but an intuition.
A deep-seated certainty that settled in my bones.
Ivan’s smirk grew, and he inclined his head slightly, acknowledging my realization. The bubble around him pulsed with a faint, eerie glow, illuminating strange shapes on the walls. “Ah, so you’re not as oblivious as I thought.” His tone was almost playful.
The cold air seemed to thicken, wrapping around us like a suffocating blanket. The faint smell of ink and antiseptic from the tattoo equipment mingled with the underlying essence of… something.
Was that fear?
The shop had almost become a haven of creativity and rebellion.
Now, once again, a cage—with Ivan holding the key.
“Yes, the circus,” he leered. “My masterpiece! Far beyond your petty little shop and its trinkets. When I come back for you, you won’t be able to stop me. I’ll keep you in a little jar like a genie.” His expression brightened, and he let out a maniacal giggle. The sound rang out like church bells and made me want to jump out of my skin. “I’ll give it a little rub when I want a little rub.”
Maverick’s fists clenched, his knuckles white with tension. The determination in his monstrous eyes flashed red, a stark contrast to the darkness that Ivan represented.
His gaze drifted to Maverick’s, but Ivan didn’t care. He loved it. “What, you think she’s yours now? Didn’t she tell you how used up she is? She’s like the dirty, dried-up rag I wipe my cum on. Get your own.” He shrugged. “Or whatever, use my cum rag while I’m away. But I’m taking it back when I’m ready.”
My mind raced, the pieces of Ivan’s plan clicking into place. The circus of horrors he’d been planning, the twisted vision he wanted to bring to life, all of it.
And now, he was here to gloat .
Ivan’s bubble shimmered, a final mocking barrier between us. “Enjoy your little rebellion while you can.” His voice dripped with false sympathy. “It’ll all come crashing down sooner or later.”
My heart lurched as Maverick, undeterred, hurled himself at Ivan once more. His body a blur of desperate motion, I found myself leaning forward, breath held, clinging to a fragile thread of hope—
It shattered in an instant.
Maverick collided with the shield.
The air itself seemed to tear apart.
A blinding flash of electric blue light.
A deafening crack.
I cried out in shock.
The acrid smell of sulfur filled my nostrils as arcs of energy shot to the bubble’s surface.
To my horror, the electricity lashed out, enveloping Maverick. His body went rigid, muscles locking as the current surged through him. A strangled sound escaped his throat as he toppled backward, limbs twitching violently.
I wanted to run to him, to help somehow, but terror kept me rooted in place, forced to watch helplessly as he convulsed on the floor.
Ivan’s laughter rose again, drowning out the fading crackle of electricity. That high-pitched, maniacal sound set my teeth on edge and made my stomach churn. The triumphant glee in that cackle revealed a cruelty beyond measure, a stark reminder of the monster he was.
Just as abruptly as he had appeared, Ivan vanished. The sudden absence of his laughter left a ringing silence in my ears. In his place, a swirling cloud of vivid blue smoke materialized, carrying with it the acrid stench of sulfur. The smoke coiled and twisted like a living thing, slowly thinning until it was nothing more than a ghostly wisp .
As the last of the smoke faded away, the reality of the situation crashed over me.
I was alive, but for how long?
And at what cost?
The lingering scent of sulfur and ozone seemed to mock me.
Ivan could return at any moment to finish what he’d started.
The acrid smell of burnt sulfur filled my nostrils, joining with the sharp tang of fear and adrenaline.
I dropped to my knees beside Maverick, my heart pounding in my chest. The cold floor pressed against my legs, centering me in the present moment.
I reached out to him. His face was pale, his eyes squeezed shut in pain. I pushed the sweat-soaked hair off his forehead, my fingers trembling as I made contact with his clammy skin.
Maverick rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. His eyes fluttered open wide, looking past me. Unseeing. Haunted. The static still clinging to his skin, tiny shocks prickling against my fingertips. He managed a nod, his jaw clenched against the pain.
The normally comforting ambiance now felt charged with a discomfiting energy, every corner filled with the remnants of Ivan’s malevolent presence. It seemed to be holding its breath, the shadows on the walls whispering threats and insults for him, the lingering smoke and electricity overwhelming me.
“Are you okay?” I whispered, my voice cracking with worry. The words felt ridiculous, barely scratching the surface of the turmoil churning inside me. Of course he wasn’t.
He lifted his head and grunted, propped himself up on his elbows. “I’m fine. But that asshole is about to find out what three ancient seraphim can do when they’re pushed.”
I grimaced, unsure whether to feel honored or worried .
I couldn’t pretend I didn’t want Ivan gone just as badly.
Maybe now it was possible, with my new power.
With Maverick and Stone and Lux at my side.
The blue smoke continued to fade, leaving an unsettling quiet in its wake. The shop felt like the aftermath of a battleground, but the confrontation had only just begun.
We’d find his weakness.
If Ivan wasn’t completely indestructible.
We had to.
It was down to his life or mine.
Yet again.
After a decade, the choice was easy to make and impossible to achieve. But deep underneath the fear and uncertainty, there was a glimmer of hope. Ivan might have the upper hand now, but I wasn’t powerless anymore.
I had allies.
Really fucking strong ones.
They were immortal.
I was immortal.
Holy fucking shit…
I was immortal.
We were gonna Fuck. Him. Up.