I sink to one knee on the worn wooden floor of the training chamber, my lungs burning as I gaze up at Caleif. Her dark hair catches the flicker of torchlight, and she offers me a gentle, proud smile. "That's it for today. A solid test of your limits," she says, rising gracefully to her full height. She brushes past Mira with a nod. "I didn't need you to step in, but thank you," Caleif murmurs, her voice soft against the clink of armor as she climbs the stone stairs and vanishes into shadow.
I press a hand against my side, wincing. "Ah, shit, that hurts." My voice echoes off the walls. I stagger to my feet but sway, my balance gone. In an instant, Mira is at my elbow—her fingers cool and steady as she guides me up the last steps.
At the top, she leans close, her breath warm against my ear. "You're strong, you know that? And pretty damn cute." Her tone dips into something playful, intimate. "If Caleif ever looks away, I might just steal you for myself." She straightens, hitsched in her silver-studded leathers, and drifts back through the grand archway into the mansion's hushed corridors.
My heart pounds so fiercely I half expect it to burst free. Their strange, sultry smiles replay behind my eyelids. "Weird… but so hot," I murmur, stepping beneath the mansion's marble arch and into a cool draft of air scented with polished wood and spice. I pause outside the kitchen, the clatter of pots and low laughter drifting out, but voices farther down the hall draw my attention.
I slip into the living room, where Caleif sits on a carved ebony settee, ringed by a dozen figures in silken tunics and leather gauntlets. Candlelight shimmers off polished boots and gleaming gazes. My throat tightens. "Who are all these people?" I manage as I take the cushion opposite Caleif.
Her dark eyes glitter like a star-spangled sky as she inclines her head. "These are the other servants I mentioned." She gestures in a slow circle. "Miranda, Mira, Scarlett, Eleri, Nira, Rose, Elkin, Alexander, Rosario, Drew, Alissa, and Elana." She pauses, lashes fluttering. "Questions?"
Heat rushes to my cheeks and I swallow as the pressure gauge on my gauntlet ticks upward, a faint whirr. Why does she do this to me, especially now? I clear my throat. "Right… I'm Kamen, your newest servant. What do each of you do, and how did you come into Caleif's service?" I force my voice steady and look away, hoping to calm the wild flutter in my chest. Around me, they exchange knowing glances, and Caleif offers another of her enigmatic smiles. Then one by one they begin to tell me their stories.
Hours passed as they told me their stories. I cleared my throat, stealing a glance at Caleif and then looking away when her eyes met mine and she smiled. "That's heavy," I managed, voice rough. "I didn't expect everyone to gravitate toward you, Caleif. But I get it—you're beautiful." My words came out in a rush, then died on my lips.
Caleif laughed softly and brushed a stray tear from her cheek. "They just returned from their contracts. I was going to introduce you properly, but this feels right. So, Kamen—first impressions?"
I swallowed hard, glancing around at each of them. "They seem really nice. Maybe a little intimidating, but I'm sure I'll get used to it." I rubbed the back of my head—a nervous habit I hadn't realized I'd picked up.
She turned to the group and smiled. "Well, introductions are done. Kamen, come with me." Rising from her chair with effortless grace, she led me through the room. My thoughts scattered until she snapped her fingers in front of my face.
"Oh—sorry! I'm coming," I said, jumping to my feet. She guided me out of the mansion and down the driveway to a modest Honda Civic. I raised an eyebrow—hardly the chariot I'd expect a demon to drive.
I slid into the passenger seat and clicked my seatbelt into place. "Where are we headed?"
Caleif started the engine and gave me a knowing look. "You need some space. There's a place I want to show you." We sped off, the city lights blurring around us. Minutes later, she pulled into a small parking lot. Overhead, a neon sign glowed: "Zaratotas."
Caleif lowered her visor mirror and smoothed her hair and makeup until every eyelash was perfect. Then she turned to me with a warm grin. "Thought you'd be hungry. Hope you don't mind quick food." She opened her door and stepped out, motioning me to hurry.
"Let's get inside before all the tables fill up," she called over her shoulder.
I trailed behind her through the restaurant's crowded entrance—the place humming with laughter and the steady clatter of plates. I'd never been here before, but I trusted her. A smiling waitress met us at the podium. "Table for two?" she asked. Caleif nodded. "Just two." The waitress led us to a small corner table and handed over menus. "So," Caleif said as we settled in, "what are you thinking, Kamen?" I stared at the paper like it was written in a foreign language. "I—I'll have steak and a burrito," I finally mumbled. Caleif chuckled. "Relax. I dragged you out of that mansion for a reason—and for my sanity. I've been cooped up in there way too long." She flagged down the waitress and ordered.
My drink arrived first, and I took a big gulp, regretting it instantly. Heat spread across my cheeks. "It's been…a whirlwind," I admitted. "I never thought I'd be out on a date with someone like you." Caleif sipped her drink, her eyes soft. "You really need to give yourself more credit, Kamen. You're not ugly, even if you think you are." She smiled just as our food showed up—her burrito and taco, my steak and burrito. I cut into the steak and tasted it. "Oh my god, this is incredible." A sudden sharp pain stabbed behind my eyes. I winced. Caleif snorted—sent her drink shooting up her nose. She coughed, wiping her face. "Right," she said, "I forgot to mention—you can't use the Big Man's name anymore. You're a demon now. You'll get used to it." Watching her laugh, tears in her eyes, my heart thudded. How had someone as ordinary as me ended up with someone so…perfect?
I stabbed at my steak like a kid. "So, what happens next?" Caleif finished her taco in one bite and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. "Enjoy tonight," she said. "Things are about to get a lot harder. Claire was just one angel we might run into." At "angel," I snorted—my bite went down the wrong pipe. I coughed until I spat the steak back onto my plate. "Angel? Wait…there are real angels? And more of them? Why would they target me?" I asked, shoving the damp chunk of meat aside.
Caleif's smile faded. She rubbed her temples. "When Estingoth fused with you, it caused a commotion up in heaven. The angels freaked out—but the fallen angels are furious. They wanted Estingoth to get back into the Big Man's good graces. You got him instead, so you're a target. They think you'll lose control and tear the cosmic balance apart. I'm not gonna let that happen—no matter what."
My heart pounded. I looked down at my arm, where a dark gauntlet shimmered into being. "The fallen angels wanted this…?" I whispered. A deep voice rumbled in my head—Estingoth's. "They feared me as much as the Almighty did, but I never intended to challenge Him. The fallen angels thought if they had my gauntlet, they'd be pardoned. The Almighty refused—it'd give anyone who wielded it too much power."
"Now I have it," I said, shaking. "Does that make me a threat to the Almighty too?" Caleif laughed, Estingoth joined in. "You? A threat? You're too weak to worry the Almighty—even with my power. You could get stronger, sure, but that's months or years of training. Still…with the fallen angels hunting you, who knows how fast you'll grow." She bit into her burrito and closed her eyes, savoring every bite. I watched her, nervous and excited, wondering how I'd survive the storm to come.
I sigh and shake my head, deciding to just enjoy the night. "I'm really glad I met you, Caleif. Thanks for everything." I murmur, taking another bite of my steak—so juicy it practically melts. I wonder how good a steak she'd cook. She'd look perfect plating it, too.
Caleif glances up from her burrito and blushes. We eat in comfortable silence as the night slips away. Finally, I admit, "I needed this. It's been forever since I've gone out with anyone who isn't my parents. I miss them." My smile fades the moment Caleif pulls me into a warm hug.
"It's okay, Kamen," she whispers. "I've got you." She straightens, walks over to her car, then pauses, squinting into the dark. I follow her gaze. A lone figure stands under the streetlamp's weak glow. "What's going on?" I ask, heart thumping.
She shushes me and pulls me into the car, locking the doors. Through the window I see her stare at the man, then say, "Stay here. Don't come out until I tell you." She turns and walks toward him.
"An angel's here," Estingoth's voice rings in my mind. "A strong one. Be careful, Kamen."
I watch Caleif approach him—hips swaying, confident. I grit my teeth. "Of all nights, why now?" I mutter.
She reaches the man and they begin talking. Tension sparks between them. Suddenly he lashes out. I fling open the door and dash forward. He's panting, his shirt smeared with blood. Caleif stands unscathed.
"What's happening?" I wheeze.
Caleif sighs, exasperated. "I told you to stay put. This is Azrael—fallen angel. He came to steal you from me." Azrael drops to one knee.
"Your time is ending. You can't protect him forever," Azrael hisses.
Caleif's lips curve into a sadistic smile. "That's where you're wrong. My servants already destroyed your hideout. Soon you'll be alone in this town."
Azrael's eyes widen. "That's impossible—my angels are—"
Before he can finish, Caleif grips his throat. He chokes, tries to scream. A wave of her energy washes over him. In seconds, he crumbles to ash.
Staring at the dust swirling at our feet, I swallow hard. "We should go," I say. Caleif nods, calm as ever. We walk back to the car side by side.
Caleif sits behind the wheel, the engine's idle hum filling the space. She turns to me, eyes sharp. "Kamen, no one's ever going to take you from me. They'd have to go through me first—and I doubt they could," she says, firing up the car.
On the drive back to the mansion, my pulse races. I clear my throat. "Caleif, why are you so drawn to me? Why does it feel like we have this… connection?" My cheeks burn.
She smiles, softening. "I don't really know. Maybe it's your stubborn streak or the way you laugh. Whatever it is, you're the only person I've ever felt this with."
Her words wrap around me just as the gauntlet on my wrist chimes—pink light pulsing at fifty percent. She chuckles. "You and that thing." I flush as we pull up the driveway.
Inside, Mira stands at the stove, pork chops sizzling. She glances over. "Back early. Fallen angels? Handled." She flips a chop and winks. Caleif steers me down the hall. "Trust me, you don't want to know—demon dog meat."
My stomach twists.
We reach her room. She turns, smiling. "Thank you for today. It meant a lot." She leans in, kisses my cheek; her perfume drifts around me. The gauntlet chimes again—I tap it, laugh awkwardly. "Goodnight, Caleif. Thanks for everything."
The door clicks shut. I crouch, peering through the keyhole. As she starts to undress, her voice murmurs back. "Naughty, naughty, Kamen. Bedtime. I'll see you in the morning."
A footstep echoes ominously behind me, followed by an insistent tapping of a foot. My heart leaps into my throat as I swiftly turn around, only to find Mira standing there, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. Flustered, I feel the heat rise in my cheeks, painting them a vivid crimson as I scramble to think of something to say.
Mira's lips curl into a wicked smile. "Why don't you ever spy on me, Kamen? I'll make it worth your while," she taunts, her voice dripping with playful malice. As she leans forward, her neckline dips ever so slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage. The gauntlet strapped to my wrist chimes twice, a shrill reminder of my own awkwardness. I give it a frustrated smack and spring to my feet, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
"Sorry, Mira. I'm, uh, heading to bed," I mumble awkwardly, my voice barely steady as I attempt to soothe both myself and the temperamental gauntlet. I turn on my heel and make a hasty retreat, my footsteps echoing down the corridor. Behind me, I hear Mira's melodious sigh, followed by a soft, disappointed "hmpf."
"Maybe I'll just spy on you," she murmurs under her breath, the words barely reaching my ears but clear enough to quicken my pace.
The hall stretches endlessly before me, but I finally reach the safety of my room. I slam the door shut with a resounding thud and fling myself onto the bed, feeling the heat in my cheeks intensify. My heart races, a wild drumbeat in the quiet of the room, as I replay the encounter in my mind, wondering what strange game Mira is playing and why, against all reason, I can't help but be intrigued.