Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Ash growled impatiently and sunk into his assigned seat.
He had more important business to attend than this, for fuck’s sake.
Creed, one of his legates, had reported some more unsavory activity at the southwest border.
He ordered double the guard to check it out and was waiting impatiently for the report.
Fucking hell.
He would’ve gone himself if this hadn’t been a direct order from Lucifer.
Who would have ever thought the Demon of Lust could sink so low?
He was Asmodeus. The Ashmedai! A Prince of Hell. General of the Daemonium Guard. A fucking legend in the Underworld. Conquests by the thousand.
Who knew more about lovemaking and the art of seduction than he?
Him! Ordered to attend this speed dating event like somebody’s ugly step-cousin. Bah! If the Lord of the Underworld wanted him to get laid, he supposed he had no choice. So, which of these all too willing females was he going to go home with?
So many there reeking of lust and desire. He felt their eyes weighing and measuring him. Heard their whispered gasps of surprise that the Demon of Lust was there, in the flesh.
Ugh.
His boredom bordered on disdain for the throngs of females. He even snarled at one who dared step too close. Truth was, none there appealed to him.
He frowned, his thoughts turning grim as he tried not to look too closely at any one person there. He simply was not ready for dating. Fucking was another story. His body was in fine working order. Sex without emotion had always been one of his specialties. But not even that stirred his appetites.
Not after all he’d been through. Yes, he realized he sounded like a whiny fucking human.
But so what?
Maybe they had it right when they promoted sharing each other’s feelings and emotional awareness.
He was a Demon, true, but he still had a soul, for fuck’s sake.
Besides, what help did he need finding a female?
He huffed and readjusted his specialty tailored jacket. It was quite fine and superbly cut, if he said so himself.
Thanks to Arachne, of course, and her custom clothing boutique, Metamorphosis.
That was one highlight of the new Underworld Ash was rather fond of.
No one cut a suit like the female Spider Shifter.
And the fact her silk was imbued with magical elements that allowed for him to reveal wings and tail without damage was just a bonus.
He wore her latest design tonight, admiring the feel of the slate colored suit.
Lucifer had commanded he dress to the occasion, and after all that time spent in rags, imprisoned by the foulest of the foul, Ash did not mind donning some finery.
Indeed, some things about being home were almost too good to be true.
He still felt unsettled, but at least he was back among friends.
In his own house, and with so many lovely luxuries.
His callused fingers brushed against the smooth silk of his shirt, and Ash silently thanked Arachne’s efforts.
Her new boutique was exquisite and she had a knack for utilizing her clients’ desires, such as his own taste for finery in her creations, surpassing his expectations in her execution.
Lust encompassed many things, including an affinity for all things beautiful.
Speaking of which, he ducked his head when a certain familiar blonde headed his way.
Shit.
He had hoped to go on unnoticed, but alas, that was not to pass. Hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised, Eve hunted him across the room.
“Well, I knew you’d been summoned, Asmodeus, but I did not expect to see you here,” Eve said with her familiar, and always annoying, smirk.
The Vampire female had been after him to attend this little soiree since he’d returned.
Eve and Aphrodite had concocted this plan to match up citizens of the Underworld with their fated mates.
Even destiny fucked up occasionally, and sometimes mates somehow eluded one another during their actual lifetimes.
What fucking ever.
Ash had never lived as anything other than a Demon. He was not dead or undead. He simply was. His existence was not like others. Yes, he could die, he supposed, but where he would end up was anyone’s guess.
Born in Hell, returning there would be like going home, wouldn’t it?
And he did so prefer Purgatory for the time being.
“Well, ready to admit I was right?” Eve asked.
“You? Ha! I was ordered to attend, and I would never defy Lucifer,” he replied blandly.
“Oh.” Eve frowned. “Well, since you are here, I hope you will have an open mind about finding your mate—”
“I don’t think so, Eve. And I apologize if I am rude, years away from civilization can do that to a Demon, but I have absolutely no interest in being here. I am only sitting at this ridiculously decorated table because, like I said, I was ordered to do so.”
“Drat! I told Aphrodite the confetti and glitter were just too much,” she murmured, brushing some of the paper hearts off of his table and into her manicured hands.
“Eve, relax. I will give Lucifer a good report on your scheme here.”
“It’s not a scheme! We really can help you find your soul mate, Ash!”
“Eve, some of us simply do not have soul mates. It is fine. I am okay with being alone—”
“That’s crazy talk! Look, the Fates wouldn’t have done that to you, Ash. Everyone has a mate. Everyone,” Eve replied sternly.
“Fine, Eve. Whatever you say.” Ash nodded, refusing to argue the matter.
He turned away from the sympathy on her face, missing the ambitious gleam in her bright eyes.
He picked up the drink he’d ordered from a passing server, a tumbler of Bitter Bite, an artisan whiskey distilled in Maccon City by a Werewolf with a knack for spirits.
He drank his neat, rolling the liquid in his mouth as he absorbed the subtle lavender and orange notes.
Music played in the background, but he hardly recognized it.
Eve had left him alone, thank the gods, but truth was he kind of felt isolated.
He paid little mind to those casting curious glances his way.
He had a certain reputation, and those who knew him were perhaps wondering what he was doing there.
They’d probably laugh if he told them he was wondering the same thing.
Why couldn’t Lucifer just let him go off on a tour with one of his legions?
Maybe a few months battling the soulless ones would be good for him.
Take his mind off his own shit. It would be like therapy!
And that was seen as a good thing these days, wasn’t it?
Ugh.
He moved in his seat restlessly. If only he could wear his wings and horns, but he’d tucked them away for safety’s sake. He did not need anyone with beer muscles picking a fight with a Demon of his rank.
This was going to suck. Ash had no delusions that Eve was right about him finding his mate at a speed dating party. But he was a soldier first, and he’d follow orders.
Still, that didn’t mean he was prepared when Aphrodite sounded the call to begin.
Before he knew it, Ash was politely declining room keys and phone numbers from half a dozen women and one man.
There were people and other beings, in all shapes, sizes, and species.
But no one caught his eye. Not even for a quickie.
And wasn’t that disappointing?
He’d assumed he’d find at least a bed partner for the night for all his efforts.
Ugh.
How droll.
The room was abuzz with potential, something he was able to discern in the varying scents.
It appealed to his Demon side. After all, identifying desires was Ash’s angle.
It was how he’d operated for millennia. And yet, he could not even fake interest in any single person there.
He was just not interested in the smiling, overly perfumed denizens.
All of whom seemed to say the exact same thing.
Without fail. Every time the buzzer rang, and he was forced to rise and swap seats, Ash cringed at the usual introductions.
Hi, my name is blah blah. I like blah blah. And I am looking for blah blah blah.
What did he care what any of them were looking for?
He glanced over at where Aphrodite and Eve were conversing. Heads together, they looked over some sort of electronic tablet pointing and focusing like a pair of generals plotting out a war. He just shook his head.
Love really is a battlefield, he mused.
But he had nothing to worry about on that front. After the vicious mind warp Molloch had put him through, Ash was positive he wouldn’t know love if it bit him on the ass.
Buzzzzzzz!
He stood, nodding politely at the woman he’d just ignored for the past five minutes, and sat down at the next table. Inhaling, he took his seat, almost falling off the thing, when a sudden wave of uncontrollable desire hit him square in the gut.
“Hi.” A shy voice reached his ears, but he was still too caught up in that crazy, delicious scent.
Bright raspberries with a hint of lime zest, colorful and enticing. Just the sort of thing he would love to imbibe on any occasion. Beneath that was a more complex assortment of flavors. Vanilla bean, lavender, and oak.
Fucking hell.
He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to open his eyes, simply wanted to sit and breathe her in. It was a her. Woman. He was quite certain. That depth of fragrance could only come from a female.
Human or supernatural?
That was harder to distinguish.
Ash took another breath, ignoring the nervous clearing of the woman’s throat.
But he could not put it off any longer. Much as he would have liked to simply sit in silence and breathe, he only had a small amount of time with the woman.
And the clock was ticking. Stealing himself against disappointment, Ash opened his eyes.
Holy fuck.
“Who are you?”