Page 8 of Demon with Benefits (Hell Bent #3)

“No reason.” She quickly changed the subject. “I don’t see why you don’t do it here. Your flat is too small to fit five huge demons.”

“That’s what makes it so fun! Between all those big bodies, the house gets nice and toasty. It’s so cozy with everyone packed in. I love it.”

Iris had to smile. “I’ll come on one condition.”

“You already agreed under no conditions.”

“You come to the coven meeting on Saturday with me.”

She’d been trying to get Lily to go for years and gotten nowhere. Lily had been stifling flare-ups of her power without telling anyone, but Mist had encouraged her to stop hiding who she was.

It was one of the reasons Iris had accepted him into their little family. Demon or not, anyone could see he was a good influence on Lily, and the two of them were crazy about each other.

The twins had a staring contest for several seconds before Lily finally caved with a sigh. “Fine. But only because I want to start learning how to control my power. Not because I want to be part of your weird cult.”

“It’s not a—”

“I know, I know. See you Friday.”

Cradling the puppy, Iris waved over her shoulder and stepped outside the apartment. The moment the door closed and she was alone in the hallway, the smile dropped, and she sagged momentarily against the wall.

She felt so damn tired all the damn time, and she was sick of doubting herself. She didn’t trust herself anymore, and she didn’t know how to get back the easy self-assurance she’d always had. She didn’t know how to begin picking herself up and putting the pieces back together.

The puppy—Faust—stirred in her arms, restless now that it wasn’t Raum cuddling him.

“Come on,” she said tiredly, “let’s go home.”

Back in the art studio on Vancouver Island, Meph threw down his paintbrush and curled his lip at Flayed Alive .

The head he’d cast the other day had been attached to the body, and the sculpture of the screaming, skinless man was finally fully assembled.

He was almost done with the color too, yet he still wasn’t happy with it.

He often found that when his mood was sour, he would hate the look of his art and think it was all shit. Then, later on, if he was feeling better, he’d look at it again and wonder what he’d thought was wrong with it.

Right now was one of the former times. It was taking all his self-control not to smash the thing to smithereens.

You’re a shallow piece of shit with no substance or personality.

Not this again. “Shut up,” he told his mind, not that it ever listened to him.

As an evil demon from Hell, Meph had been insulted and cursed more times than he could count, and he really wasn’t sure why this particular taunt had stuck and kept popping up unexpectedly.

Maybe it was because it came from a woman he liked to picture naked.

Maybe it was because he thought she was right.

He was a bit shallow. He was definitely a piece of shit. He didn’t think he had much substance. And his personality was mostly stupid humor designed to either piss people off, make his stoic, grumpy brother Raum laugh, or cover up the aforementioned flaws.

Iris had seen right through him and thrown all his secret vulnerabilities right in his face. He was honestly impressed with how easily she read him, even if it sucked for his ego.

The way she’d come after him today had just added salt to the wound. What was her game? Was she trying to belittle him? Mock him? Make him feel like an even bigger loser for the fact that he was still attracted to her? He couldn’t figure it out, and it was driving him crazy.

“Are you still painting?” Jacqui asked from across the studio. She was bent forward with her tongue sticking slightly out, adding finishing touches to another piece—a woman cradling a pregnant belly that looked like the moon. “I thought you’d decided not to add much color.”

“Yeah.” He had decided that. He’d been painting all day with grays and blacks and a subtle dash of red for contrast. He should have been done ages ago, but now he’d started doubting himself.

“You should take a break and work on something else.” Jacqui set her brush down and straightened. “Actually, I have something to ask you.”

Happy to look away from his sculpture, Meph spun his stool around to face her.

“I have a friend with a successful gallery in Montreal, and”—she smiled sheepishly—“I may have sent her photos of your work.”

“Jacks, what the hell?”

“She loved it, Meph. She loved it so much, she wants you to be the feature of her opening at the end of March.” Jacqui looked intently at him. “Is that something you would consider?”

Meph stared at her. Jacqui was an accomplished artist in her own right. She and Dan had made a name for themselves with their paintings and sculptures and were renowned world-wide. If she said her friend had a “successful gallery” that meant it was a BFD: big fucking deal.

But Meph didn’t care about human shit like validation. He made art because—well, he honestly didn’t have a clue why the fuck he made art. Maybe it was as simple as the fact that his mind went silent for once when he was working, and that was something he needed more of.

“I know you’re very secretive about your work,” Jacqui went on, “and I respect that. In fact, I think it’s partly why you’re such a brilliant artist. You keep your inspiration very close, and that keeps it pure.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that,” he mumbled, fidgeting with his paint-covered hands.

“But I think this could be a great opportunity for you. Not just because of the recognition you’d gain, but as a way for you to expand your horizons.

Exposing yourself to the world is a powerful step as a creator, and it takes a lot of courage.

I remember once I first did it, I progressed in leaps and bounds.

It brought a lot of insight into my craft, and as a result, a lot of inspiration.

I would love to see that for you, Meph.”

Meph shifted around on his stool and rubbed the back of his neck until he realized he was probably rubbing paint all over himself. He dropped his hand.

“My brothers...” Nobody knew what he was doing all day when he disappeared, not even Raum, and he wanted to keep it that way.

“No one needs to know except us if you don’t want them to. And the patrons at the gallery of course, but they’re strangers, so it doesn’t matter.” Jacqui’s dark eyes lit up like she knew victory was within her grasp. “You told me you rented a studio space, right?”

“Yeah.” But he rarely used it because he always came here instead. All of his sculptures were here, which meant he would need to transfer them all to Montreal if he was going to do the show.

“Well, I planned it all out.” She was practically vibrating with excitement now. “We can draw a hellgate in your studio and transfer the pieces directly there. We can take sculptures through a gate, right?”

He nodded. He was pretty sure, anyway. It wasn’t like he’d tried before, but he didn’t see why it wouldn’t work.

As long as someone was holding onto them, even fairly heavy objects could be transported through hellgates.

Jacqui, on the other hand, would have to take a sizeable gulp of demon blood if she wanted to come through with him, as the Sheolic magic used to activate a hellgate was not compatible with regular humans.

“We’ll work out transportation to the gallery with Magalie—she’s the owner—and if you don’t want anyone to know what you’re doing, then we won’t tell them. We can do the whole show without anyone else knowing I’m in Montreal.”

“Wait.” He scrubbed his face, then realized he was probably spreading paint all over himself yet again and dropped his hand. “You’d come to Montreal and not even tell Eva?”

Jacqui nodded. “If that was what it took for you to feel comfortable doing this, yes.”

“But—”

“I love my daughter and miss her very much, but I can visit her another time. This is about your art .” Her dark eyes blazed with passion. Yep, this woman was crazy obsessed with art. At least she’d made the right career choice. “Nothing can stand in the way of that.”

“Yeah, but...” He didn’t like the weird feeling in his gut at the idea of Jacqui missing a chance to see her daughter. “Maybe you could still visit Eva and just sneak away on the side?”

Her face split into a smile. “That’s a great idea. So? Does this mean you’re in?”

Meph dropped his head back, groaned, and then spun his stool in a circle.

He cracked his knuckles one by one and picked some of the paint off his skin.

Then he traced the tattoos on his palms and spun his stool around a few more times.

All the while, Jacqui waited with perfect stillness, that hopeful smile never leaving her face.

Finally, he blew out the world record for longest sigh and said, “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Jacqui’s whoop of excitement had him slamming his palms over his ears. Great, he’d have paint there now too.