Page 60 of Demon with Benefits (Hell Bent #3)

There was a woman in front of him with a bag on her shoulder.

He could bump into her, apologize with a hand on her back, and jack her wallet in under ten seconds.

The guy beside her had a nice big lump in his back pocket where his wallet was.

Probably stuffed full of bills. A slight jostle and he’d be relieved of that burden.

But no. Raum had promised himself he wasn’t doing that tonight.

It wasn’t that he cared about the immorality of it; it was more that his stash of pilfered goods was getting a bit larger than would be considered appropriate.

So he stuffed his hands into his pockets and tried to study his surroundings without the eye of a thief.

The gallery was small, one of those exclusive places that you wouldn’t be able to find unless you already knew where it was. There was expensive wine and cheese going around on servers’ trays and a bunch of artsy-fartsy humans deliberating the deeper psychological significance of Meph’s sculptures.

From what he’d overheard, they’d come up with some pretty wild scenarios, but no matter how far they reached, Raum was pretty sure they weren’t going to guess the truth.

Sticking out like sore thumbs, Mist, Asmodeus, and Belial wandered through the gallery. Eva and Lily kept Ash and Mist in line, but Bel was a different story. He was drinking more alcohol than was socially acceptable and being generally unartistic in his demeanor.

Not that Bel cared. Not long ago, a human had cleared their throat at him when he swore loudly. Bel’s responding glare had sent the man on an impromptu trip to the restroom to collect his nerves. Or clean up his underwear.

As for Raum, he was... brooding, which annoyed him. It was just, Meph looked happy—really, truly happy—and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

To a stranger, Meph always looked happy.

The dope never stopped grinning like a dog with its tongue hanging out of its mouth.

But to a brother who knew him better than he knew himself, there was always something dark in his eyes, a shadow of the monster he kept chained inside him, that he hid behind inappropriate humor and a disarming grin.

But not anymore.

With his fingers intertwined with Iris’s, Meph had walked her through the show, telling her about each piece, explaining how he’d made it and what it meant—if it meant anything besides him just making a freaky monster.

Iris gasped and praised and looked at him with complete adoration, night and day from how she’d acted when they’d first met.

When they’d come to the final sculpture, the centerpiece of the show, her eyes had filled with tears. It was an obvious dedication to her, and her reaction proved it was a meaningful one.

Raum stood there in his dark corner, trying to make himself happy. He was , damn it. His brother had suffered for years, and he deserved this joy. He deserved a female who looked at him like he was the center of her world.

It wasn’t Meph’s fault that Raum had this weird hollow feeling in his chest. It wasn’t Meph’s fault that Raum’s entire identity had revolved around managing Meph’s dark side since they’d joined forces hundreds of years ago, to the point where Raum didn’t know who he was anymore.

With the huge gap in his memory, sometimes he felt like an empty shell. A walking, talking body with no one inside.

As Raum watched, Meph pulled Iris against him, kissing the top of her head.

Her smile was indulgent as she melted into him, turning her face up for another kiss and lifting a hand to stroke along his jaw.

She sifted loving fingers through his hair, pushing the longer strands out of his eyes, and they whispered quiet words of affection.

Raum felt like a fucking pervert watching them as closely as he was, yet he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.

That was until Belial came up behind him—for a man the size of a mountain, he could be uncannily quiet when he wanted—and punched him in the shoulder.

“You jealous?” Bel said.

Raum shot him a glare that promised retribution.

“Too bad. You could have made your move centuries ago if you wanted him.”

Raum’s glare dissolved into revulsion. “What—? No. He’s my brother.”

“And demons have always been down for a little incest.”

“For fuck’s sake—Why would you even—That’s just—” Raum couldn’t even formulate a retort, he was too disgusted.

Belial’s smile was pure evil. “If you don’t want me to make incest jokes, you’d better quit brooding like a jealous lover.”

“I’m not—” He growled. He was aware that Belial knew exactly what he was doing.

Bel knew perfectly well what the nature of Raum and Meph’s relationship was, and he knew there was nothing incestuous about it.

But Belial also knew what to say to pull Raum out of the dark spiral he’d been tumbling into.

He’d never say it, but he was grateful.

A little bit. A very tiny bit.

“You’re gross,” was Raum’s final reply.

“What do you think of the art?” Bel asked, propping a gigantic shoulder against the wall. His empty wine glass was dwarfed by his big hand, and Raum wondered how many he’d gone through.

“It’s impressive.”

Bel nodded. “I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this.”

They had all figured out what Meph was doing at Jacqui’s, but tonight was the first time they’d seen his work.

Jacqui had pulled them aside when they arrived and warned them that if they made one critical, out-of-line comment, she was throwing their asses to the curb.

Though Raum appreciated her protective instincts, she needn’t have bothered.

Meph’s work was incredible. Raum had no need to bite his tongue because his comments reflected his thoughts. And judging by the reactions of the human art enthusiasts, he wasn’t the only one with that opinion.

“It’s dark,” he said.

Belial reached out to swap his wineglass for a full one as a server passed. “It’s what he wasn’t showing us all those years. The shit he was living with inside his head.”

Raum nodded, knowing Bel was right. Both of their gazes traveled to Woman in Color , and Raum knew Bel’s thoughts mirrored his own: hope. Hope that, since Meph had broken his pattern of tortured, screaming sculptures with one of beauty, he’d also broken through that barrier of darkness inside him.

All it had taken was one blue-haired, mostly unlikeable witch to get him there.

“I’m going to get some air,” Raum told Belial.

“Come back with a smile on your face or don’t come back at all.”

Raum shot him a look.

“Okay, so not a smile ,” Bel amended. They both knew that was a rare occurrence. “But I expect you to show support to your brother instead of sulking in a corner.”

There were so many things wrong with that comment, but Raum understood the meaning. Didn’t make him any less annoyed, though. “And I expect you to pull your head out of your ass and take your own advice. Stop getting drunk at an art party. You look like an idiot.”

Belial punched him again, harder than he would have if he wasn’t half-buzzed on wine. “I’ll rip your heart out of your chest and feed it to your dog. Then you can pose for Meph’s next sculpture: Stupid Fucker with No Ticker. ”

It was so ridiculous that Raum’s attempt to be angry was replaced with a snort. He insulted Bel once or twice more and then slipped away.

Stepping out onto the street, dodging a group of partying college kids on their way to the next club, he stood on the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets. He turned his face up to the sky and took in big gulps of the cold night air.

Winter sucked. Why they’d chosen to come to Montreal when they could have gone to any tropical country in the world was beyond him.

I need to get away , he thought. Go on a road trip or something. Anything to get a break from the perfect happiness and contentment that was suddenly surrounding him on all sides, pressing in on him until it felt suffocating.

Okay, so Belial was still a piece of work, but god help him if Bel was the only person left to relate to.

As Raum stood there staring at the street... he suddenly felt his neck prickle with awareness.

He spun around and looked up at the roof of the building he’d just exited. The outline of a figure watching him from the shadows was just discernible. His heart began to pound.

But when he blinked, it was gone.

Eyes narrowed, he peered harder into the darkness, trying to see the shape again. Nothing. He scanned the area, turning around to check all the rooftops, searching alleys and dark corners... and still seeing nothing. He started to wonder if he’d imagined it in the first place.

And yet, the feeling of being watched never left.

He dropped his gaze and faced the street again. The fucking Necromancer likely knew where they were, and it was making Raum paranoid, regardless of whether the creepy bastard was open to making a deal.

Raum couldn’t help thinking none of them should be outside the wards at all, even just for five minutes to get some air. Standing out here with his back exposed made him feel like a target, and he didn’t like it.

He slipped back inside, shaking off the residual chill, telling himself he was imagining things anyway. There hadn’t been anyone there.

He took two steps toward his spot in the corner and then stopped. Bel was right. He was being a dick, and he needed to get over himself.

Iris was chatting animatedly with Lily on the other side of the room, and Raum figured it was only a matter of time before Meph got swarmed by another group of art enthusiasts, so he made his move.

Swallowing back his reluctance and whatever else was wrong with him, he went up to Meph and put an arm around his shoulder.

They stared at Woman in Color for a moment before Raum said, “You know, it’s not terrible.”

Meph snorted. “Wow. Best compliment I’ve received all night.”

Raum felt his lips curve briefly. “It is. ’Cause it came from me, and I’m your favorite.”

A comfortable silence fell between them.

But then Meph said, “Just wanted to say thanks.” The words were muttered so low they were nearly inaudible.

“For what?”

“I dunno. Just... for whatever. For getting me away from Val all those years ago and sticking with me and shit. I know I wasn’t the easiest person to live with. So, yeah.”

Raum fought the urge to drop his arm from around Meph’s shoulder and brush him off. But Meph deserved better. They’d probably never have another conversation like this in a hundred years, so he told himself to use the moment.

“You helped me too,” he said. “Gave me something to focus on besides myself.”

Meph said nothing more, and neither did Raum. They understood each other, and there was nothing else to say.

Iris reappeared with two wine glasses, a smile on her face. “Look at you two. Adorable.”

Her smile fell when she met Raum’s gaze, but it wasn’t replaced with a frown. It was a look of mutual understanding. I know , her eyes said.

What it was she knew, he wasn’t quite sure, but it soothed something inside of him. He released Meph’s shoulder and shoved him toward her, well aware the moment was symbolic.

“He’s all yours,” Raum told her.

“I’ll take good care of him,” she replied, her smile returning.

Meph looked between them and said, “Woof.”

At their matching expressions of confusion, he asked, “Are we discussing me or the dog right now?”

“Does it matter?” Raum replied.

Iris reached up and patted Meph’s head. “Good boy.”

Meph’s eyes darkened. “I’m going to paddle your ass for that, sugar muffin.”

“I dare you to try, sweet cheeks.”

“You’ll love it, honey pie.”

“In your dreams, strawberry cake.”

Raum rolled his eyes. Annnd that was his cue to disappear.