Author’s Note: We’re at the half-way mark!! Part three already!! We meet the head demon, his minions, and see what they can do. We also take a peek into Veritas’...secret. Umm...no sex until next part. I’m bad at summaries, I’m starting to realize. Just read it and tell me what ya’ll think. =====================================================================

Vermillion turned to the woman dressed in a lacy, white camisole. As beautiful as her body was, she didn’t interest him. He didn’t know what disgusted him more, the fact that Prism tried so hard in looking human or that fact that she actually succeeded. Underneath those large breasts and blonde hair was a demon who was capable of flaying flesh from bone. He hated her human skin, but loved her prowess as a demon.

“Get off.”

Pouting, she slid off his body and adjusted her clothes. She threw her legs over the bed and snarled when the bedroom door opened. “You can’t just- oh...”

Veritas stood at the doorway, flanked by Arcane. Unlike himself, Arcane looked pretty human aside for the three inch nails, the sharpened canines, and the black, membranous wings protruding from a dark coat. It was a well known fact that Arcane had a hard-on when it concerned Vermillion’s daughter, only, she didn’t care too much for demons. Except for one. She was, of course, the apple of her father’s eye.

“Veritas,” Vermillion crooned. He all but kicked Prism off his bed and patted the space next to him. “What brings you here?”

Veritas came to him like a hesitant child. She sat next to him then wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him. She couldn’t deny the aura of demonic power steaming off his body, but she also couldn’t deny that he was her father. She pulled away from him long enough to look him over and knew, just by his aura, that he was twice as old as Fenrir. His hair was long and black, laying flat against a face that was as human as hers. His eyes were also black, like those of a sharks, bottomless and devoid of all emotion. His skin was pure white, with black tinted nails and a body of a man forever stuck in his prime. He had covered himself, thankfully, and had rested his back against the headboard. Unlike the demons that surrounded him, he had no wings. He could have been called human if not for his eyes.

“Someone is looking for you.” She told her father.

Vermillion smiled. “My darling daughter, someone is always looking for me.”

“He’s a demon.” She paused, wondering if it was for the best. She shook her head. She made a promise to her father that she would inform him of anything or anyone trying to look up the feared demon lord. And no matter what happened between her and Fenrir, having sex with him wouldn’t hinder her promise to her father. “Half-demon to be precise.”

“Oh,” Vermillion chuckled softly. “So that’s what it was? I thought I felt something familiar.”

“You knew he was here?” Veritas asked.

“No.” He shook his head, black eyes sliding towards Arcane. “Can I help you, Arcane? As you can see, I’m having a discussion with my daughter.”

“No, sir.” Arcane shot a longing glance at Veritas then exited the room.

Vermillion made a motion with his finger denoting his daughter to turn around. Sighing, she obeyed and waited until he came back into her line of sight. He wore a black robe and cupped his daughter’s face in his massive hands. She looked so much like her mother. He loved that woman dearly, but giving birth to a half-demon child had taken its toll. Though Veritas has insisted on living on her own, he had given her the space she needed and the love she sought, knowing she would be singled out because of him. Not fully human, not fully demon. Her life was in constant danger.

“I am a demon lord. All demons are interconnected through me by any means. I know if they die, I know if they are born or...in this half-demons case...I know when one is given the demon’s mark. I’ve known something was here...but not specifics.”

“That explains the feeling I got when he came into the city. Well, you should also know...” Veritas hesitated. She knew her father would get very upset at the next thing she’d say. “He’s...staying with me.”

“Really?” Vermillion whispered. But in the single word, the room shook and lightning and thunder roared outside. “Who is he?”

She told him all she knew of Fenrir and what he had done for her. But not what they had done together. That would send her father in a murdering rage, searching for him, and punishing her. She kept it quiet and watched him as he paced the room. Finally, he turned to her, eyes looking her over.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?”

“Father, you know I have an aversion to demons-”

“Did. He. Touch. You?” If he asked again, she was in big trouble.

“This morning.” She murmured.

He surprised her by sitting on the bed and laughing. He kept laughing until she turned red in the face and leaned over him, poking him.

“Father. Father? What’s so funny?”

Vermillion opened eyes, tears of laughter quickly drying on his face. “He thinks he’s so powerful, doesn’t he? He’s just like the rest of the demons in this city. Sure, he might have a one-up on them, but after all, Veritas, he is still human.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I shouldn’t be worried about him. Besides...you’ll be his downfall.” He turned serious, then, like flipping a light switch. “He may not say it now, he may not even realize it until he sees me, but you will always be on his mind. The moment you two joined bodies, it becomes a commitment. You didn’t tell me a lot about me and the Three, did you?”

Veritas shook her head. “No, not much. I told him that anyone who saw you has been killed.”

“Good. Let him believe we’re as dangerous as everyone else thinks we are. If he wants to see me, then he will see me.”

Biting her lower lip, she lay next to him and draped an arm around his mid-section. “Father, you’re not going to kill him, are you?”

“It would solely depend on him. If he wants to fight, then I will humor him. If he wishes to die, I will grant it.” Vermillion planted a kiss on his daughter’s forehead. “Do you love him?”

“No!” Veritas shot up and poked at her father again. “I just met him yesterday-”

“And you had sex with him this morning.” He finished. He sat up on his elbows. “I know your heart better than anyone. You have feelings for him. You say that it’s not love, but I can see that the longer he stays with you, the more you’d want him. Save yourself the trouble, daughter, get him out of your life. I don’t want to see you cry over a man who sought death itself.”

“Does it really show that I like him?” She asked.

Vermillion put an arm around her shoulders, his voice deepening, meaning he was scheming. “It’s in your eyes. He hurt you. And for that, I will have to send the Three to teach him a lesson.”

* * *

Fenrir stopped in his tracks, tilting his head up to the sky. There were three. He ducked into a corner, climbing over fallen trash bins and climbing metal fences, and running until he came to dried-up fountain, more or less, in the center of the city. There, there were three demons.

He recognized them, though he had never seen them before. There was one female and two males. As he recalled, Veritas had told him that Prism was the only female of the Three Tiers of Pain. At least he knew who they were. They knew nothing about him.

Prism wore a robe, but she had taken it off, revealing a pair of large breasts barely hidden by a scrap of clothing. She tossed her blonde locks over her head and opened her mouth. A soft, almost angelic voice floated from her throat. It was soothing and intoxicating, then she let out a high-pitched scream that sent shockwaves in all directions, creating giant cracks along the concrete. Fenrir jumped out of the way, transforming himself into a demon and taking flight.

Razor, the apparent flier of the trio, shot past Fenrir, his wings slicing into Fenrir’s abdomen and across one leg. He screeched and made spirals around the half-demon, cackling and laughing. Below, Prism was rearing back for another attack and Arcane...he stood, watching.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Razor screeched.

Yellow eyes narrowed and he wrapped his wings around his body, turning him into a sharp, drill-like point. He flew towards Fenrir, who braced himself and grabbed at Razor, sending them both to the ground. Razor unfurled from his cocoon and began to strike Fenrir with his fist as quickly as his arms would allow. The half-demon blocked most of the attacks with his wings and shot a leg out, tripping the winged demon. Sitting up, Fenrir shook his head from the pummeling and charged at the demon, rolling on the concrete and sitting on the smaller demon, shoving power-strikes into its face.

Arcane watched with bored apprehension. He turned to the female. “Prism.”

Prism hooker-walked towards the two grappling demons and put her hands on her hips. Without warning, she let out a screech that had both demons looking up. Razor rolled one way, Fenrir rolled the other way. What Fenrir didn’t know was that Prism could easily change the direction of her strike. Pain shot up one side of his body, and he felt most of his insides fall onto the ground.

“Shit.” He looked up and was surrounded by the three demons. He had anticipated their strength, knowing their specialties, but never knew how well they worked together.

“I don’t see why Vermillion was so worried about you.” Arcane said, kneeling next to the half-demon. “With all your big-talk, you’re nothing but a punk.”

“Yeah. Veritas said you were tough. She said you could probably kick my ass.” Razor laughed. “I thought she was talking about you, but you’re nothing but chicken shit.”

“Veritas?” Fenrir asked. He looked around. “What does she have to do with anything?”

Arcane moved forward, leaning over Fenrir. “Have you ever had sex with a willing participant? I bet that was good, wasn’t it? But have you ever taken an unwilling woman and fucked her until she told you all the world’s secrets? It’s a feeling I soon wont forget.”

“Motherfucker!” Fenrir screamed, charging himself towards Arcane. He landed hard on his face, every part of his body screaming with pain. “You didn’t touch her. You didn’t!”

“I especially liked it when she began crying your name. At first I was a little put off, but when she began to scream...that’s what got me off. ‘Oh, Fenrir. Fenrir, please, help me.’ Shit, she’s the best rape I’ve ever done. Oh, excuse me, the best FUCK I’ve ever done.”

“Veritas!” Fenrir howled.

The name itself seemed to give him strength and he lunged at Arcane again, this time, his fist connected to Arcane’s jaw. Arcane laughed, grabbing at the muscles Prism’s strike had exposed and squeezed. Fenrir screamed, but ignored the pain and shoved a fist into Arcane’s stomach. They both squeezed until the other gave-in. At least, that was the point. Arcane shot a look to Razor who came form behind Fenrir and sliced a line down the center of his back. Blood ran and pooled underneath Fenrir’s feet. He gritted his teeth and began to jerk his arm backwards, intending for Arcane to release him first. Blood spurted out of Arcane’s mouth and he spit in Fenrir’s face, his saliva proving to be an acid as well as the blood setting into Fenrir’s eyes. Unfortunately Fenrir let go first and was promptly tackled to the ground by Razor.

Razor’s wings flared and the tips of the sharpened wings struck downwards, pinning Fenrir to the ground as Arcane and Prism looked over him.

“Do your work, Prism.”

Prism smiled and slid the straps off her shoulders. She stood above Fenrir and placed a foot on either side of his head, giving Fenrir a good glimpse of her crotch. She sat on her back haunches, making it seem as if Fenrir was helping himself to Prism’s essence.

“Do you want some cream, Fenrir? I can give you more than that human bitch.”

“Sorry,” Fenrir coughed. “I don’t care much for spoiled milk.”

“Asshole.” Prism hissed. She grabbed Fenrir’s head and placed it between her knees, intending to squeeze his head. “Not so tough now, are you?”

She began to force her legs together, actually enjoying how large he felt between her legs. She made all the noise of a woman who was in the heat of passion and actually heard something crack. She would have continued and would have actually killed him, but Razor pulled her off, leaving the half-demon broken and bleeding on the ground.

Arcane beckoned to his associates and they began to walk away. “You’d better get those wounds checked up. If you’re intending to face off with Vermillion, you’d best be put to good shape ‘cause you’ll be facing us to get to him. Oh, and hurry on home. Veritas should be back by now.”

Fenrir shut his eyes and screamed, more out of frustration than pain. He managed to sit up, pulling what he could into the gaping wound. He knew his wound wouldn’t heal quickly enough for him to get back to the apartment, but it would heal enough for him to stand up and walk. Over a half-hour, his body managed a thin sheet of skin over exposed organs. He began the long trek back, hoping Veritas was there, faring off better than he.

* * *

Veritas looked at the black-and-blue bruises that covered over her face, the tell-tale sign between her legs that she had been raped, and the cuts over her lips and breasts. Her father explained that though it was a spell, in order for it to be real, any pressure on her so-called injuries, would indeed hurt. So she spent the past hour, touching and poking at her wounds, feeling the shock of pain run through her and laughing because after a few seconds, the pain would subside.

But the pain between her legs...that was no laughing matter. It was a throbbing pain and no matter how hard she laughed, blood still seeped from the fake wounds and she still felt as if she had been speared, brutally, by a demon. As much as she was an actress, even that pain she couldn’t fake. She trudged back into her room and lay in bed, going over the plan her father had for Fenrir.

She knew what she had to say to Fenrir, to get him to leave, knew what to do if he refused. But when she heard his voice, she slipped into the mind-set of a woman who had been raped and huddled in the bed, covering self from head to toe and waiting for him to find her.

“Veritas?” She heard him call at the front door.

She heard his footsteps thunder through the living room and down the hallway. It stopped just out her door and she suspected the door to slam open, instead, it opened slowly and Fenrir poked his head through the doorway.

“Fenrir?” She asked, voice muffled. She could smell his blood, could see the tears in his shirt and coat. “You’re hurt.”

He entered the room and felt his throat close when he saw her. Well, he didn’t really see the bruises on her body, but he could definitely smell her blood and taste her fear. He closed the distance between them, but didn’t make a move to comfort her. Through the covers, he could tell she was trembling, still suffering from shock. He kneeled in front of her, hoping she’d come to him.

“Who did this to you?”

“Remember I told you about a demon named Arcane?” She didn’t have to say anything more. Fenrir was exuding enough anguish that she nearly cried with him. The next words she was about to say were the one that would get him out of her life. “Fenrir...you can’t stay here.”

“I know.”

THAT surprised her. She shifted and moved towards him, placing her hands on his shoulders. There was enough tension that he could possibly break himself. “You know you have to leave?”

“I put you in danger.” He answered. He laid his head on her lap. “But how can I possibly leave when I’ve deliberately put you in danger?”

“It’s for the best. If they know you’re here, then they’ll come back.”

“But if I’m not here, they’ll come back and finish what they started.”

Veritas cleared her throat, trying to sound as if she was hesitant. “They were here because of you?”

“They must have known I was coming or someone told them. They probably asked around and linked you to me. So they came to you to see what information they could get from you.” Fenrir sat up and couldn’t help himself as he stroked her leg. “I can’t leave you here. It would be on my conscious if you died because of me.”

Oh, her father was right. Whether he realized it or not, she was on his mind. She tried to think, but his fingers were tickling her leg. She could always force him out, start a big crying scene, but she liked being subtle. She moved her legs so that they were on either side of him. She moved up a little closer, her knees under his armpits.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier.” She whispered. She leaned over him, laying her head over his. She felt him stiffen, but he didn’t move. “I guess I get attached too quickly to things that I can’t keep.”

“Why would you want to keep me?” He asked, reacting to the feelings that stirred on the surface of his mind. He liked the way she felt, liked the way she molded against his body. The thought of having her again made it difficult for him to breath. He thought there was only one woman to ever make him feel so whipped. Now, in her arms, he knew he was wrong.

“People always want what they can’t have.”

He looked up at her then, saw her licking her lips. He knew that gesture all to well. It was a prelude to sex. She had done the same thing when she had seen him partially nude in the hallway earlier that morning. He liked the way she licked her bottom lip then her top and closed her mouth, thinking no one had seen her. He saw her and had enjoyed watching her. He raised himself towards her mouth, careful not to touch the bruises on her face. He moved so that he was resting between her legs, gingerly touching the bruises on her arms, sliding his arms around her and pulling her tight to his body. She let out a gasp and he looked down, realizing he had pressed too close to her body.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“It’s not considered rape if we both benefit from it.”

“No.” Fenrir loosened his grip on her and stood. “I’m not going to force you to have sex with me. Whether you want to or not. You’re still recovering.”

“Don’t you remember, Fenrir?” She asked. She stood, shakily, and touched the bridge of her nose. “I can heal, just as well as you can.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. What we shared was beautiful, but like you said, you don’t want to get attached. Neither do I. I’ll find somewhere else to sleep. I’ll check up on you later. Good bye.”

Veritas watched him walk away then slid the charm from around her neck. She let the charm’s light die out then lay back down, feeling her face free of the spelled bruises. It was awhile before she fell asleep. She had known Fenrir for nearly a day and she felt as if she was betraying a trusted friend. She denied she was in love, but saying good-bye to him hurt more than anything.

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