Page 5 of The Devil and His Goddess (Sinners Do It Better #2)

Perseus

I WATCHED THE DANCERS FILL the seats of the theater from the wings of the stage. For a lot of them, this was their first time seeing all of the updates I’d done to the grand space.

Plastic chairs had been replaced with soft, inviting padded upholstery in a wine red color. The floor of the stage, which had been covered in numerous nicks, cracks, and even sagging strips, had been replaced with all new ballet-ready flooring. The carpet leading down the center and side aisles had been ripped up and replaced, ridding the mildewy stench from the theater in favor of fresh paint, polished wood, and clean air.

My chest filled with pride as the many dancers looked around and pointed at all the new features in awe. I had put a lot of thought and care into every little detail, and I planned on handling the ballets themselves with as much respect as the building upgrades.

My attention drifted to a trio, who slid into the third row seating in the middle section. I zeroed in on the dark-headed beauty among them. Harper was bundled in a gray peacoat, and she already had her hair up in a typical ballerina bun. The red-head beside her was pulling hers up into the same style while the Black man they sat with talked. They laughed at whatever he’d said, and my gut clenched at the sight of my goddess smiling. She was stunning, and I couldn’t wait to see that vision of perfection get covered in sweat, tears, and cum. That would be a true masterpiece.

She’d spotted me Saturday evening when I’d appeared outside her house. I hadn’t expected her to see me so quickly, and around the same time, a car had pulled in. I’d had every intention of posting outside of her house to fuck with her, but with all the extra presences, I’d decided to come back another night. Hell, maybe I’d go back tonight. Torment my prey by watching her from the dark. Turning her on without even lifting a finger. My dirty goddess liked the depraved and unknown.

I slid farther back into the shadows of the stage wings as my dick got rock hard. Unless I wanted to give my new company an eye-full of my straining cock, I had to keep a level head and not think about my plans for her. As much fun as being horny in public was, now wasn’t the time.

I checked my phone and watched the clock change from 7:59 to 8:00. I ran a hand down the front of my dark gray button-up shirt, shoved my hands in the pockets of my black dress pants, and walked out onto the stage.

I flashed a charming smile at the gathered dancers below. I made sure to meet Harper’s gaze, which she quickly ignored by looking away. I clenched my fists in my pockets.

Wrong move, Goddess. Each time you dismiss me, the worse your punishment will be.

“Good morning, everyone,” I greeted, my voice booming through the room of nearly eighty dancers. “Welcome to your first day back for an all new season.”

The crowd cheered and clapped, and even from on stage, the excitement of the people below was nearly palpable. Ballet was what everyone here worked so hard for, and they were finally back after their time off. If someone wasn’t excited, they were in the wrong business. It took a real love and passion to make it in this industry.

“I know I introduced myself at the party on Friday night, but in case some of you missed it—” I made a point to find Harper’s gaze and smirked when I saw the pink rise on her cheeks “—I’m Perseus Mavros, the new artistic director and owner of the Silverlight Ballet Company.”

Another round of applause.

“When I bought and took charge of the company, it had been at one of its lowest points. As you can already see,” I said, gesturing to the stage and room with a wave of my hand, “I will be changing that. Note I didn’t say ‘plan on changing.’ I will change it. We will grow and thrive as a company from this point on. That means new talent, innovative ballet productions alongside the classics, and a ballet experience unlike any other. I do not run things like other ballet directors who you might’ve worked with. I have my own way of doing things, which you’ll learn as we go.”

The thunder of claps this time came with a rush of elation and determination, and the force was hard enough to shake mountains. Everyone clearly supported my announcement and was eager to see it come to fruition.

When the room quieted, I swept my gaze over the gathered assembly and continued, “With a fresh season underway, I’ve packed multiple ballets into our schedule. We have a whole group of new dancers joining the returning ones, which will allow us to do more dances than previous years. To start out the season, we’ll be working on two productions. One at the home theater and another at the downtown theater. Swan Lake will be our opening show at the downtown theater. Here, we’ll be doing an original ballet with music written by myself and Zagan Kraev, and dances choreographed by myself and fellow choreographer, Rupert Holdenberg. It’s called Dancing in the Dark .”

Excited whispers were exchanged among the dancers below. Their first show. That was always a thrilling thing to learn and look forward to.

“This week will consist of a lot of ballet classes where my assistant and I will watch all of you to determine what show you’ll be doing, what role you’ll be given, and who the principal, soloist, and corps de ballet are. Understood?”

With the acknowledgement of the crowd, I dismissed them to head to warm-up. I returned to my office so the group had time to stretch and really get ready for my observation. I answered a slew of emails and did much of the business part of my new role. Despite this part of the job being rather boring, it was worth dealing with. Having my own ballet company to manage and run to my liking was the greatest thing I’d ever done, and I’d barely even started the new position.

I glanced at the time and realized the classes had started. I wove through the building until I reached the section that housed all of the practice rooms. Everyone was in the largest of the rooms for now, but once we narrowed down which dancers would be doing what, we’d split them into different practice spaces.

Portable barres had been set up in aisles throughout the room, and the dancers were currently going through barre techniques with the dance masters and répétiteurs. Classical music played softly to give them something to work to, but it wasn’t so loud that it distracted from the instructor.

Rupert was already sitting at a table at the head of the room, studying the group as they went through different pliés. He nodded when he caught sight of me approaching, and I clapped him on the back as I took the chair beside him.

“Did they just start class?” I whispered.

Rupert nodded his salt-and-pepper head and jotted something down in his notebook. “Yeah. They just finished warm-ups and exercises. You haven’t missed anything.”

I opened my own notebook, ready to jot down who did what well and who missed what. My presence had stirred things up a bit. Their big boss was now present, so the determination in the air had spiked.

Which dancers would catch my eye? Who would become principal dancers? Who would be the ballerina that I could rely on?

I was just as eager for those answers as they were, so I watched each person carefully. Everyone here was a talent in their own right, but a few ballerinas and danseurs caught my eye as they worked through the day-long training, which included learning a routine that everyone would be using for this sort of audition week.

Samir. The dark-headed danseur was tall and built in a way that would allow excellent strength and form as a principal dancer. He’d been a principal dancer in previous years, and I recognized him as the man who’d played Prince Siegfried on the last three years worth of recordings I’d studied. He was quick, flexible, and good-looking.

Another danseur that promised the same qualities was Elijah, the dark-skinned guy I’d seen with Harper. Not only did he share those qualities with Samir, but there was a certain way Elijah held his mouth or eyes that expressed deep emotion as he moved with the instructions given. It was beautiful to watch, and he wasn’t even performing a given character yet.

As for the ballerinas, there were a few who drew me in. The dainty yet fiery blonde, Mandi. She had a certain softness to her while also a confident curve to her lips and tilt of her chin, and that, paired with her elegant technique, made her a strong contender for being a principal dancer.

Others, like Katerina, Carmen, Samantha, and Rosá, were ballerinas that stood to be principal dancers.

My attention inevitably gravitated to where it had been magnetically drawn throughout the entire day.

My goddess, like other ballerinas in the room, was turning in pirouettes. My mouth dried at the sight of her lean legs and graceful arms moving through the technique. There was so much raw power behind each and every move she made, and a fire seemed to burn at her core, extending beyond to wrap her entire lithe form in this vibrance . So much majesty and strength resided inside of her. It didn’t matter that this was a practice room full of fellow company dancers and not a stage facing hundreds of audience members. She danced as if this day would be her last day, pouring every bit of love she had for the art into the gesture of a finger, the poise of her shoulders, and the elegance of her feet.

When the day finished, I wanted to growl at Harper to get her ass back in the room. I wasn’t done watching her dance. I restrained from demanding that—barely—because I didn’t have time for that right now.

With my day at Silverlight done, I returned to my office for privacy before conjuring shadows to step through. When I came out of them seconds later, I stood in the center of Xander’s penthouse apartment in New York City.

While all the members of Sinners Do It Better had moved to Tennessee, a couple still had their New York homes for occasions when we had to travel back here for shows and work.

Zagan had been here this week to film some hip-hop videos with a New York dance company. Dante had come for some book convention, and Coldin was scheduled to shoot a drumming video for some popular music channel. Since the majority of the members were already here, Xander and I joined them so that the five of us could sit down today to film our official hiatus announcement.

“Pers,” Xander greeted with a wide grin when I appeared. He wore black cargo pants and a band t-shirt, and he lounged back on his leather couch, lazily running a hand over the shorter half of his dark hair.

Dante stood between the couch and the tripod in front of it, adjusting the height and angle of the phone we’d be live-streaming our news on. He glanced over his shoulder and tipped his dark, scruffy chin at me. “Sup, man.”

“How was the book convention?” I asked Dante as I settled on the couch beside Xander.

“Fucking awesome,” Dante announced as he stepped back to observe the phone. Satisfied with its placement, he dropped onto my other side. “Stocked up on plenty of new books, including an entire demon romance series.” Dante flashed Xander and I an amused smirk. “Very interested to see what that’s like.”

Xander and I laughed. Human portrayals of demons always made for a good time. It often had us cackling, even the less than flattering depictions they made of us. We found it highly amusing to see what mortals thought we looked like, what we were into, and what we craved.

Zagan and Coldin appeared next to the line of windows across from us. The two were dressed in all black, as usual.

“Glad to see everyone’s already here,” Zagan said, raking a hand through his dark hair. His blue eyes locked on mine. “Especially you, Mr. Boss Man.”

“I may be Boss Man now, but I’ll always make time for my boys,” I said with a smile. “Our band is just as important to me as Silverlight.”

“I guess our hiatus came at a good time,” Zagan noted as he sat next to Dante while Coldin sat beside Xander. Zagan leaned forward so he could peer past Dante to meet my eyes. “You can get your ballet company ready and where you want it during the band’s break.”

He spoke, almost as if posing a question instead of actually stating something. It was like he hoped I saw this as a great opportunity to do something I was passionate about rather than as a disappointment for our band.

My suspicion was only confirmed when he turned to Dante and said, “And you’ll get to finally read more off your long list of books.”

“Z,” I said carefully, reaching past Dante to grip Zagan’s shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about this break. We don’t blame you for needing time.”

“Yeah,” Dante agreed. He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Everyone needs a break. You’ve been going, going, going non-stop. So don’t worry about us, Sinners Do It Better, or the Sinners. We’ll get back into music when you’re ready, and the Sinners will wait for that.”

Zagan’s pierced brow furrowed, and he stared at his clasped tattooed hands. The four of us let him have a moment to really soak in our words and believe them, because we meant it. Zagan wrote all of the music for our group, and the demand for our songs was high .

Could the rest of us pitch in to help? Sure.

But none of us had the gift of song-writing that Zagan did. Even what he considered his worst, we fucking loved. But he needed to love it, too, which was why this hiatus was necessary. With time, our leader would find his footing again, and in the meantime, the rest of us would find things to entertain ourselves.

My current amusement started with H and ended in —arper.

The rush of excitement that burned through my veins with the mere thought of all I had planned for her had me biting my lip to contain my grin.

“Okay,” Zagan finally said as he took a deep breath. He nodded slowly and straightened, adjusting his signature black button-up, which was open at the top to expose his chest tattoos. “Let’s announce our break then.”

THE LIVESTREAM ENDED, AND THE five of us instantly relaxed.

“That went well,” Xander decided as he leaned his head against the couch, the longer half of his hair flopping back.

“I hadn’t expected anything less from our fans,” Dante said with a smirk as he raised his muscular arms in a stretch, exposing the hard lines of his torso beneath his shirt.

He was right. Our fans—the Sinners, as they called themselves—were extremely loyal, and even though there was a lot of sadness expressed in the chat during the livestream, there was also an outpouring of love. They understood this was the best thing for us right now and would wait patiently for our return.

“Feel better about it?” I asked Zagan from where I’d gravitated to the kitchen to grab some bourbon. I poured two fingers worth into five glasses, and the guys came over to grab theirs.

“A lot better,” Zagan admitted, immediately downing his drink. “Now I can really focus without … the pressure.”

“I’m gonna miss the VIP parties,” Xander lamented with a heavy sigh. The bleak expression quickly morphed into one of excitement. “But I’ll be able to fill the free time with plenty of other entertainments.”

I finished off my drink and turned to our forever-quiet drummer. “Speaking of entertainments, I have a favor to ask, Coldin.”

The green of Coldin’s human eyes immediately darkened to become black voids, and flames danced in those onyx orbs. “Who do I get to kill?”

My skin immediately prickled with unease. A wave of nerves spread from me to the other guys. Even though we were cool with Coldin, he was still a Letum demon—Hell’s most violent killer. If his contract with us broke for even a second, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill each and every one of us, and he’d do it with a smile on his face. That was the only time the demon smiled—when he was fucking mutilating someone.

“No one,” I answered with a harsh swallow. I cleared the sudden gravel from my voice and gave him an apologetic smile. “That’s not the favor I need.”

The brief glimmer of light in his eyes extinguished as quickly as it had lit. He blinked, and just like that, his eyes were back to a bored green. His pierced mouth stayed as straight as ever, everything about him blank once again.

“I was wondering,” I started slowly, “since we’re on break right now and you won’t be needing it for the time being, could I borrow your mask?”

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

A demon of many words, this one.

“Why do you need his mask?” Zagan asked with a curious raise of his pierced brow.

I smiled wide and poured myself some more bourbon. “My newest obsession has a thing for masked men, and I plan on making good on that fantasy.”