Page 34 of The Devil and His Goddess (Sinners Do It Better #2)
Perseus
“SIR, I AM SO, SO sorry. I don’t—”
“Save it,” I interrupted in a firm bark while maintaining my blank mask. “I don’t want excuses. Two days in one week of not showing up for work or even calling in? That’s unacceptable, and it won’t be tolerated.”
Mandi’s eyes reddened as they welled with tears. I clenched my jaw to keep from hurtling a ball of fire across my desk to incinerate her where she sat. The audacity of her to tremble, to cry, to beg for forgiveness after what she’d done …
Xander clucked his tongue as he braced his hands on the back of Mandi’s chair and leaned down to study her sniffling face. The longer half of his black hair fell into his eyes as he said, “I should’ve brought a snack to have while you wrung her out.”
Pretending the demon wasn’t there, I plowed on, “Not only has your attendance received two strikes this week, but your performance in class, practice, and the shows have been lacking significantly. You’re messing up even the most basic of techniques.”
“Thank you, thank you,” Xander chirped and bowed at me. “I tried.”
He hadn’t just tried. He’d done great this past week when it came to fucking up Mandi.
After that first no-call, no-show, she’d missed work a second time, thanks to Xander. Even while she was at the company, he made being here Hell for her, constantly knocking her off balance, making her spill her lunch, and staining her leotard.
That last one had been one of my few requests. I now suspected Mandi had been the one behind Harper’s ruined leotard, and after talking to Aiysha this week, I realized how nasty this human had always been.
It truly baffled me how these creatures could be considered benevolent while we demons got labeled as monsters.
“I’m so sorry,” Mandi whimpered. Her brown eyes searched mine as she shifted to the edge of her seat. “I’ll try harder, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“If it does, you can find another company to dance for,” I said, barely keeping the hatred from my voice. I tipped my head toward the door. “Dismissed.”
She scurried out of my office, faster than a mouse freed from a trap.
Xander dropped into her vacated seat and adjusted his t-shirt once settled. “Lower than a worm, that one.”
Smirking, I let my human guise fizzle away to ease some of the tension lining my muscles. Pressing my clawed fingers to my throbbing temples, I said, “You’ve done a great job. She’s really falling apart.”
He grabbed the stapler off my desk and tossed it up before snatching it swiftly. He continued playing catch with my office supply as he replied, “I honestly haven’t had to do too much. She’s so frazzled all on her own from the constant fear of getting caught. She’s practically given me the rope to hold while she hangs herself.”
“Good,” I snarled. The pounding in my head intensified, and I briefly closed my eyes to rub at the dull pulsing.
Xander stopped throwing the stapler and leaned his forearms on the desk, watching me hard. “What’s wrong with you?”
I shook my head dismissively. “Nothing.”
His dark eyes narrowed. “When was the last time you ate?”
I held his suspicious gaze but didn’t answer. If I told him it’d been two weeks since I’d last consumed Harper’s pleasure, he’d insist on my eating. But I refused to do that. Harper wasn’t ready, even if it was to feed me, and I certainly wasn’t going to someone else for it. I’d never been monogamous, but I’d also never had Harper in my life. With her, I had no desire to be with someone else. Harper was the only one for me.
“You should join Mandi,” I said, dropping my hand and getting to my feet slowly so that he couldn’t tell how I stumbled slightly. “I need to get going. Harper’s surprise is ready.”
I didn’t wait for him to respond, because I couldn’t keep arguing with him, which was exactly what he would’ve done. I vanished in a plume of shadows and reappeared in my living room. The room continued moving, even after I’d stopped, and I had to brace a hand on the back of the couch until the dizziness faded.
Finally getting a grip on my bearings, I made my way to what had become mine and Harper’s room. I’d initially planned on staying in another bedroom while she used mine, but since that first night, it had become our routine for me to sleep next to her atop the covers, holding her hand, and keeping the torturous dreams away—not that she knew I did that last part.
Torturous , I chuckled sardonically.
Torturous indeed. I’d never known a greater pain than this—the person I cared about most cracking piece by piece while I could do nothing but watch.
I shook the thought away as I found Harper in bed.
“Harper,” I called happily as I approached her side.
Her dull gaze met mine. “Welcome back.”
“That project I’ve been working on is done. Would you like to come and see?”
She slowly nodded and gradually rose from the mattress.
I’d wanted to completely hide the fact that I was doing some sort of renovation in the house, but she’d notice the construction and installation work, as well as hear people coming and going from the house. So I’d told her I was doing something, but I hadn’t given her details. She hadn’t gone to sneak a peek, either, since she didn’t leave our room.
My heart pounded with nerves as I led her down the hallway to what used to be the gallery. True to their word, the guys from both the floor and mirror companies had made quick work, completing the task I’d given them in less than a week.
And thank fuck for that, because the excitement of seeing Harper’s reaction to the transformation was almost all that kept me going. It had been a little over a week since Harper’s world had been destroyed, and every single day, I’d seen more and more of the life leaving her eyes. The nightmares plagued her soon after she’d drift off to sleep, so I was constantly having to make her mind go blank.
Though, I was starting to doubt whether feeling nothing was helping.
She stayed in bed the majority of the time, and when I or Aiysha convinced her to come out to eat or to watch their favorite show, she’d sit there with us while her mind remained far away, trapped in a never-ending cycle of torture.
I couldn’t breathe past the constant tightness in my chest. The helplessness consuming me made my dark mood at work worse, which was only a good thing when it came to interacting with Mandi.
Clearing all of the negative thoughts from my head, I stopped outside the closed doors to the old gallery and smiled down at Harper. She watched me with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. That last emotion, that faint yet present yearning to know, had my throat closing with the first glimmer of hope.
Unable to speak past the lump in my chest, I opened the door and waved her in first. I’d already seen the gallery-turned-massive-ballet-studio, and right now, I didn’t care to take that all in again. My hungry eyes traced every inch of her face as she slowly walked into the room.
Her lips parted when she saw the floor had been replaced by ballet-ready vinyl and sprung hardwood. Her chest rose sharply as she spotted the wall that had once been adorned with paintings but was now floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Permanent barres had been fitted to the opposite wall, which her twinkling gaze scanned before moving to the portable barres that stood near the front window. Alongside them was a built-in wardrobe station. It held an array of leotards, tutus, and other ballet apparel, all in Harper’s size. A shoe rack contained every shoe Harper might need for any style of dancing, not just ballet. Not only that, but I had a mini bar fitted in the corner of the room to house snacks for fuel and a fridge for drinks.
Harper’s hands shook as she brought her fingers to her mouth and made a slow tour of the room in silence. She studied the new clothing with glistening eyes before reaching out to stroke the steele barre.
“You did all of this?” Harper whispered. She met my eyes and added, “For me?”
“Do you like it?”
“Like it?” She gave a breathy laugh and looked around the room in awe once more. “Perseus, this … this is amazing. And too much. You shouldn’t have—”
“Nothing,” I cut her off as I crossed the room to her in the blink of an eye. Lowering my voice, I lightly brushed the backs of my fingers over hers and finished, “ Nothing is too much if it means bringing you even a little bit of happiness.”
The tears lining her eyes grew, and she bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. The fingers whispering against mine slowly wove together until our hands were joined like two perfect puzzle pieces. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, baby. You’ve been stuck away from home too long.” I waved my free hand around us. “So I thought I should bring home to you.”
She took a deep breath and looked around the room again. Her voice came out quieter than a passing breeze. “Home.”
I STOOD BACKSTAGE, WATCHING SWAN Lake from the wings. My heart was cold and face devoid of all emotion as I watched Mandi prepare to enter the stage for the White Swan pas de deux. Xander stood next to me, invisible to all eyes and ears except mine. An eager grin was plastered on his lips while he bounced on his feet.
“This is going to be good,” Xander said. With a glance my way, he probed, “Last chance. Are you sure you want to do this here?”
“I’m sure,” I answered without hesitating. The people bustling about me were too busy with their tasks to notice me speaking to what would look like air to them.
Xander had expressed concerns about doing the final part of our plan during this show, not out of fear that we’d somehow get caught, but because he cared about me. Doing this during a Saturday night, sold-out show could tarnish Silverlight’s reputation, especially after we’d just moved our ballet schedule around. The risk was one I was willing to take. The retribution that would be served tonight far outweighed the company consequences.
Mandi, who had already been rattled from the past two weeks, began the White Swan pas de deux with Samir. Xander took his own place near them onstage, and while the audience watched the pair of white-clad dancers, I watched Xander. The Mischief demon studied the two dancers and waited for the perfect moment to strike. That moment came when Mandi, aided by Samir, went down into a penché. Her standing leg held her weight en pointe while she raised her other leg high to make a complete straight line with her legs.
Smirking deviously, Xander kicked his foot into the side of her standing leg knee. Her instant scream of pain pierced across the stage, echoing over the orchestra’s playing. Her leg snapped, buckled, and bent at an unnatural angle, making gasps ring out from the audience.
Damn Samir was a professional, though, and he’d felt the change in her body, which allowed him enough time to scoop her up into his arms before she fell to the floor. Without breaking character, he whisked her offstage, improvising the portrayal of a heartsick man who wanted a moment of privacy with his lover.
“Holy shit,” Samir gasped as he deposited a sobbing Mandi on a box once offstage. A crowd of staff and dancers who’d witnessed the disaster gathered around. “What—”
“Get back out there,” I ordered him. Catching sight of Carmen, Mandi’s understudy, I nodded toward the stage. “Both of you. Back out there. The show must go on.”
The two threw worried glances Mandi’s way, but they set aside that fear to don their professional hats. Holding Carmen the way he’d just held Mandi, the two reentered stage and quickly found where the music was to continue the pas de deux.
My attention left them and snapped to Mandi, who blubbered at my feet as she tossed side-to-side in pain. The in-house physician and physical therapist made quick work of stabilizing her leg so they could move her into the back changing room. I followed with Xander right by my side, barely fighting my grin. My eyes flicked sideways to catch Xander’s golden Mischief eyes.
Good work , I silently praised.
His chest puffed out with pride, and I knew his bloodstream had to be fucking wired with fresh energy and power. The reaction from, not just Mandi, but everyone in the building who’d seen her nearly fall from the agonizing accident, had surely given him a burst of power unlike any other. He could probably flatten this entire place and everyone in it with a single snap of his fingers right now.
With Mandi now in a private room, Rupert and I watched the medical professional check her injury. Xander stood beside him, and every time the medic touched her knee, Xander would sneer and narrow his eyes before Mandi let out a fresh scream. The sound of bones snapping was only heard by mine and Xander’s ears, and it was more beautiful than anything the orchestra had played tonight.
That crunch of bone meant the shame of failing in front of everyone.
That breaking of bone meant inescapable torture.
That snap of bone meant payback .
Now she felt the same things she’d caused Harper. But while that crumbling of Mandi’s knee meant an unknown future for her dance career, that was one thing she and Drake couldn’t take from Harper. They could never break the ballerina she was. I’d make damn sure of it.