Page 11 of Dark Souls

The Dealer

S talking through the dimly lit cellar where tonight’s Underground festivities were being held, I kept to the shadows, only allowing my intimidating presence to spark enough fear with an unspoken warning: tread carefully, for you’re in the devil’s domain, and one wrong move means no mercy from me. Uneasy eyes followed my every move and hushed voices echoed in my wake, just like they always did when I showed my face at any event. My reputation as the ruthless and cutthroat Devil’s Dealer was enough to make even the most vicious of supernaturals think twice about crossing me. And that’s exactly what my purpose was. To keep order in the chaos. To elicit dread. To be the Devil’s ears and eyes in all matters. I would hate it with a passion if I had the energy to give a fuck.

No one here knew my name. Not my real name, anyway. That’s a secret buried deep beneath The Underground ’s lies, betrayals and mysteries.

Every fucker in this place knew me only as The Dealer; these idiots sold their souls to satisfy their cravings for their darkest desires, wealth and power. And that is exactly what The Underground offered. Yet, some still couldn’t form enough brain cells to comply with the only two rules: respect the events and exclusivity of its members. And when that happened, I was the judge they faced in an attempt to bargain for their life. Everyone’s life had a high price to the Devil, but it was up to me to decide if the deal presented was of any value. And because every asshole in this place knew I didn’t give a fuck about their life expectancy; it wasn’t a great position to find themselves in.

Nothing could be heard but the dice rolling, the cards shuffling, and the ice knocking against the glasses as I strolled behind the tables. Each step I took in my black boots drained the laughter and joy from the musky air. I had to fight to keep the smirk at bay as my vampire thirst fed off their fear. Taking one last glance around the smoky gambling den where supernaturals were wagering their high-stakes bets that were never just of the money kind, I pushed through the curtain wall into the bar area. The moment I did, the noise level from the gambling den erupted once more with the relief that I had left them to it.

With a wave of my fingers, a waitress appeared at my side with my vodka on the rocks, avoiding my eyes and hurrying away as soon as the glass was in my hand. Clever move on her part. The less interaction I had with people tonight, the better. I was in an…unpredictable mood. In fact, I hadn’t been able to shake this dull ache of agitation in my chest ever since I found the state Heathen had left my office in at the nightclub two days ago. But it wasn’t the mangled corpse of the rogue wolf member or the complete disarray of my office that bothered me. I was used to the aftermath of Heathen’s unorthodox methods. It was the club entry contract on that girl that I couldn’t stop thinking about. And why the fuck Heath had taken such an acute interest in it? Or perhaps his interest was in her. Which was even more unsettling because no fucking good could possibly come from Heathen being distracted from the only thing he was ever used for. Killing. Monsters like him and I were better off as solitary creatures. Keeping everyone at arm’s length for their own benefit as well as ours. For a crazy killer with little to no impulse control to have his sights set on Ilaria Romano-Black, the fucking daughter of the King and Queen of all supernaturals, was only asking for trouble. The last thing we needed was the righteous royals breathing down our necks.

As if the universe was dead set on adding to my shitty mood, I caught sight of the one club member who never failed to test the limits of my tolerance. Perhaps it was because he was also the one member I could never kill. Being the nephew of my boss, The Devil, he knew I couldn’t end his pathetic little life, which made him even more insufferable. He usually steered clear of events I hosted, but tonight, he seemed intent on provoking me.

He sauntered towards me with an arrogant grin plastered on his face as I leaned one elbow against the bar countertop, my lethal glare a warning that he was hellbent on ignoring. He carried a glass of whiskey in one hand and had his other arm draped over the shoulders of a fae female in a tight black dress. Her expression lacked any sign of enjoyment at being in his company. I couldn’t blame her; he was about as entertaining as a bad joke.

“Dealer,” he sneered, his voice immediately grated on me like nails scraping a chalkboard. “Nice to see you dressed appropriately, as always, for such a lavish night.” His blue eyes barely concealed their disdain for my casual, ripped jeans and baggy, distressed Tee which showed off all my upper body tattoos. It was a clear defiance of the dress code at Underground events, which were always formal and strict for members.

“Last I checked, I didn’t need to wear an overpriced, ill-fitting suit to kill insolent pests. Tell me, does playing dress up in your uncle’s suits make you feel less like a weasel?”

His jaw clenched and fire burned in his eyes at the nickname. His name was Wesley but last year, when he had made a comment about my past that my rage could not handle, I had beat him so fucking hard he squealed like a weasel until his uncle forced me off him. The nightly tortures I’d endured for a month for that beating at been so fucking worth it.

“I’d watch how you talk to me.” His voice dripped with disgust. “Everyone may shit themselves in your presence but you and I both know that I’m the only truly untouchable one here.”

My crimson eyes flashed with dangerous intent, causing his smirk to falter. I lowered my voice to match his, my tone plagued with chilling venom. “You sure about that, Weasel? Maybe I need to jog your memory, test just how untouchable you really are.”

“You wouldn’t dare after your last punishment. Although I have to say that the scar on your face is an improvement.”

“Wouldn’t I? Just having you breathe the same air as me has me contemplating a year at the Devil’s mercy just to make you bleed.” I flashed him a toothy grin, my razor-sharp fangs on full display. He straightened his suit jacket and frowned deeply at my threat. For a moment, silence hung heavy between us, the tension crackling in the air like static electricity. The fae woman’s intrigued gaze darted between the two of us, clearly enjoying the possibility of a fight to brighten her evening. “And thanks for the compliment. But I don’t swing both ways.”

“Fuck off, Dealer. Or I might have to finish what my uncle started right here, right now.” His own fangs snapped down, and his blue eyes blazed to red.

I laughed darkly without feeling an ounce of joy behind the sound. A part of me wanted him to try. Just for entertainment value. As much as I craved to unleash my wrath on this low-life asshole, when I moved my attention to the woman he’d picked to spend his night with, a sly smile curved my lips and a glimmer of triumph flickered in my eyes instead. There were always other ways to piss him off.

My gaze drifted down her body with intensity and back to her face, meeting her yellow eyes as a small flirtatious smile played on her lips. She squirmed in her heels under my attention, wriggling out from under his arm as she bit into her lower lip and her eyes hooded with desire. I cocked my head to the side with a devilish smirk, downed my vodka and stood straight, allowing her to take in my full height. Relishing in the irritation radiating from Wesley at his fuck for the night being completely spellbound by my dark allure, I placed my glass down on the bar and nodded at the bartender to get her a free drink.

“To help you enjoy your evening, love. He might be less boring if you’re drunk.” I handed her the glass of champagne before nodding with fake politeness at Wesley and striding away from them. I’d done my rounds, showed my face, and reminded the members what would happen if they broke the rules, so I was more than ready to retreat to the back room until the night was over.

Entering the small warehouse at the back of the cellar, I groaned as I flopped down on the grubby sofa and lifted a hand to rub my chest, pressing hard to feel the slow beats of my blackened heart. Nowadays, it was the only sign that somewhere deep inside me there was still a heart at all, even if it was only for the function of keeping me alive.

I smelt her overpowering perfume before the hesitant knock came on the door and I closed my eyes, annoyed at the intrusion before it had even happened. But of course, I’d expected this. I knew I gave off an aura of being fucked up that seemed to appeal to the women who orbited my world. My scarred face, tattooed-covered body and multiple piercings only amplified the bad boy image.

I knew she’d come the moment I gave her even an ounce of my attention. I’d learned over the years that most women of The Underground were of a certain breed. As predictable as the fucking sunrise. They would always seek out the richest or most dangerous members and vie for their attention, playing their own games of deceit. The men may have been under the illusion that they were using them for what they offered but it was always the other way round. The women were the true masterminds; gaining power in knowledge and often being the most ruthless manipulators at these events, walking away with far more than they arrived with.

I contemplated telling her to fuck off back to Wesley but the petty asshole in me made a grunting noise of acknowledgement instead. The door opened and she shimmied her body in, shutting it quietly behind her. I didn’t bother getting up from the sofa. Instead, I placed one arm behind my head in a makeshift pillow and stared at her with nonchalance.

“The alcohol didn’t help. He was still boring me,” she admitted in a sultry drawl, licking her lips as her eyes ran over the length of my toned body. “And I thought I might have some more fun here. With you.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “If you’re looking for fun, you are in the wrong place. You’ll only find pain here.”

“Pain… and maybe a little pleasure?” She husked, her yellow eyes sparkling with arousal as she approached tentatively. She stopped beside the sofa, her expression flickering with sudden uncertainty at being so close to me. I grabbed her wrist, yanking her down onto her knees with blunt force and she yelped, fear sparking in her eyes. Good. She should know what she’s getting into if she wants this.

I shifted on the sofa until my legs were on either side of her body and narrowed my eyes, daring her to make her move or leave. She leaned up on her knees, her hands approaching my chest to touch me and my body stiffened on instinct. I grabbed both of her wrists in my hands aggressively, causing her to pause.

“Fucking touch me without my permission and it will be the last thing you do,” I growled, before releasing her hands and relaxing back. “Now, open my jeans and get my cock out, if that’s what you’re here for.”

She swallowed nervously, the confidence she had when she walked into the room wavering, which disappointed me to no end. They were all the same. They like the idea of fucking me. Of taking a ride on the dark side just to see if they’d survive it. But when faced with reality, no matter how much they tried to hide it, the fear always showed.

“Is-is it true what they say?” she asked as her fingers fumbled with the top of my jeans and lowered the zip. When I didn’t respond, she looked up at me from under her lashes. She would need to be a hell of a lot more specific than that. People say a lot of shit about me. “That years ago, you turned your humanity off? That you no longer have any humanity at all?”

My jaw ticked as I took a deep breath and clicked my neck to the side. And there it was. The appeal. To fuck the vampire, who was completely unhinged. Who had turned off his morals, his emotions, everything that made him feel fucking alive, just so he didn’t have to feel at all.

“What does it feel like to feel nothing?”

What a dumb fucking question.

She waited for my answer as her hand found my semi-hard cock, releasing it from my boxers and then gasping at the size and metal piercings.

“Shut the fuck up or get out,” I said in a low, indifferent tone that instantly made her body tense. Her eyes widened in panic, realising she nearly screwed up her chances. In answer, she wrapped her lips around my cock and I dropped my head back to peer up at the ceiling. I tried to focus on the sensation of her hot mouth working me but all I felt was numbness. My body reacted, my cock growing harder when she took me to the back of her throat, but my body and my brain were in disconnect. That’s the way it always was. I felt no pleasure. No relief. No gratification. Only rage. Constant aching rage.

I wrapped my hand around her sleek ponytail, twisting it in knots around my wrist and forced her head down further, fucking her mouth hard, deep and without mercy. I felt her gag and panic, unable to breathe as her hand slapped against my thigh in protest. She couldn’t handle me or my darkness. Not in the slightest. Using her hair, I yanked her head back, removing me from her mouth completely and dived forward, my fangs sinking into her throat so fast it caused her to scream from the pain and shock. It was a bastard thing to do, but then again, I did warn her. I took a few large mouthfuls of her fae blood before ripping away from her and releasing her hair from my grip.

She slammed her hand over her bite mark, blood pouring down her collarbone as she stumbled away from me with horror written all over her face.

“Dead,” I said, answering her question from before. “I feel fucking dead.”

She grabbed her bag from the floor and raced out of the door, escaping the glimpse of the monster she’d just met. I wiped my mouth, retracted my fangs and shoved my dick back in my jeans.

Lifting the laptop that was on the floor, I placed it on my lap and opened it up to the CCTV footage of the club the other night. I’d lost count of how many times I had watched this footage now, yet every time I did, I felt the smallest flicker of something from deep within my dark soul. Hitting play, I was once again captivated by her beauty and allure, just as I had been the first time I saw her in the video. I bet she commanded every man’s attention in any room she walked in with her smooth, creamy skin, stunning eyes and striking features. She was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Dressed head to toe in black, her clothes hugged her perfect figure like a second skin and those leather trousers… they did something to me. I’d always been a sucker for leather on a woman.

I paused the footage just to study her longer, capturing the essence of her beauty in my mind. I watched once more as the mysterious vampire princess marched up to the bouncers with a human on some leash behind her and demanded to be let into The Underground without a membership. She was feisty. A real spitfire. Nothing like what I expected the royal princess to be like. She was turned away and then, in a rage, shoved the human against the wall and started drinking from him. The sight made me hard again. Harder than that fae just made me even with her mouth wrapped around my dick. But I also knew what was coming and that strange, unsettling feeling I couldn’t pinpoint pulsed through my veins. She disappeared into a private room with the human and then a few minutes later, a blonde-haired man followed them in. The most concerning part was that only the blonde-haired man returned. He was later seen stalking through the club with her file in his hands and entering The Underground. I knew, without a doubt, it was Heath in a human disguise. What the fuck happened to her? I knew the human was dead. His name showed up on a newspaper report this morning, found dead in a carpark stairwell. Tragic accident. Yeah, fucking right. That had Heathen written all over it. So, what of the girl?

If he’d fucking touched her…

The protectiveness took me by surprise. The only feeling I knew, relentless fury, burned within me. I didn’t trust Heathen. He was even more of a psychopath than me, which is why I didn’t like this one bit. But why? Why did the thought of her being harmed cause me anger? Was it just because she was a royal and any attention from them would be bad fucking news or was it something else?

Unable to stop myself, I searched her name and her social media appeared as the only link. Clicking on it took me to a profile picture of the back of her, her long white hair cascading down her bare back. She appeared to be topless, standing in a forest, only her back and bare shoulders visible with her face turned completely away from the camera. The filter was grey scale and moody. In fact, the entire mood of her profile as I scrolled down was dark and edgy. A message on her wall, left only today, grabbed my attention. A girl named Lacey.

Hey girl, I had a wicked time the other night. Can’t wait for Sienna’s hen do at Elk Resort next weekend! Maybe this time we will leave the leashes at home, though. *laughing face emoji*

Ilaria had liked the comment. No reply. Just a thumbs up.

I guess that was a good sign that she was still alive. I’d love to ask Heathen himself what the fuck he was doing with this girl but that was impossible. The Devil kept him securely locked away and out of reach, even from me, and the last thing I was about to do was tell him about this little situation. If there was anyone I didn’t trust more than Heath, it was The Devil himself. So, until I saw with my own eyes that she was unharmed, and we wouldn’t have the powerful royals come tearing through our doors, I knew this agitation wouldn’t subside.

Typing in the name of the resort brought up a picturesque glamping campsite and lodges in Oregon. That could work. The next Underground event was for the witches in New Orleans, a dark annual ritual of transferring power. They requested it become an Underground event to give them the exclusivity and privacy only this club could offer. I could be there the day before and then make my way to Oregon after. I just needed a glimpse of her, proof that she was alive and well, and I’d leave without even being seen.

Another knock on the door caused me to slam the laptop shut abruptly. The door opened and Dalton, one of the Underground’s bouncers, waltzed in, his arm outstretched, holding a phone towards me.

“Fuck’s sake,” I muttered under my breath, knowing full well what that meant. Snatching the phone from his hand, I waited until he’d left the room to answer. “Let me guess…”

“Thin fucking ice,” The Devil’s deep, furious voice echoed through the speaker and I scoffed. “Wesley might one day take my place and run this operation so you’d do well to play nice.”

Grinding my teeth, I fought the urge to demolish the phone in my grip. I’d rather burn alive than ever have to answer to that scumbag but even my own death wasn’t in my control.

“Then keep him the hell away from me.”

“He is a member. And my nephew. He can come and go as he pleases. I’ve managed to talk him down from the tantrum he was throwing over some woman you stole from him and damaged. So, you have ten fucking minutes to find him a new one for the night.”

“I didn’t steal her. She came to me. I can’t be blamed for her questionable taste in men or Weasel’s inability to keep a fucking woman interested enough to suck his dick.”

He hissed, a low rumble coming through the phone that told me I was testing his patience. Which only made me want to push more. I didn’t give a fuck what sick and twisted methods he used to punish me. I hadn’t for a long time, and he knew it, which only infuriated him more.

“You aren’t there to piss off my nephew, Lukas. You are there to do a job, so do it. And while you are at it, send me your ideas for the next three events you’ve come up with. Membership has dropped in the last month since that shit went down with the Royals and the new fae princess, Sienna. So these events better be fucking spectacularly evil to keep people coming back for more, or I may have to take a little trip soon, check in on a certain someone.”

My whole body tensed, nostrils flaring as my vision turned blood red. My chest rose and fell with rapid breaths.

“Am I going to have to make that trip, Lukas?”

“No,” I gritted through my teeth. “I’ll send the details now.”

“And Wesley?”

“I’ll find him another girl.”

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? You’re dismissed for the night. I’ll be summoning Heathen to deal with the drug drop later tonight.” He hung up and I stared at the phone in my hand, willing it to detonate like a bomb and put me out of my misery. But that couldn’t happen. I had to survive, not for me, but for the only weakness I had.

For my sister.