Chapter 1

It was a red and murky night. Crimson fog roiled up from cracked, dusty ground, reducing the visibility through Kev’s window to almost nothing. The occasional flickering light from torches passing closely enough to his rooms seared through the haze, fiery blobs moving through the darkness of Hell. Kev could block out the shouts and screams, faint through the window, but the panes didn’t completely contain the smell. Lately it seemed Hell reeked of butthole more than usual. Kev preferred the stench when it emphasized sulfur.

No matter. He wasn’t going out. Tonight he was staying in and nabbing himself a date to the annual Helloween bash, which he was determined not to show up single to this year. Again. It wasn’t like he was a terrible partner—not compared to some of the creatures here—but he had this little problem with being late to everything. That just would not fly here. It was Hell, after all. Punctuality was one of the requirements.

Probably why he couldn’t get promoted from basic level soul-dealer demon to any of the positions that weren’t commission. At any rate, if no one was going to ask him out and he couldn’t seduce anyone, he’d just summon a date. Easy enough.

He stared at the schematics in his copy of 1001 Simple Summoning Circles for Everyday Evils, bending the spine hard until it cracked. Kev hadn’t used this since he’d gotten it. But this Summon-A-Demon spell was beginner friendly, and he already knew who he was going for. He dipped two fingers in the half-gelled chicken blood he’d picked up at the market and got to work.

Ira should be responsive. He hoped. Ira certainly had been several days ago, when they’d crossed paths during a deal. Normally Kev nourished his resentment and detest for the younger, fresher demons, but that night he’d set it aside at the look in Ira’s eyes, the look of Ira’s body. That demon had positively reveled in the deal he’d just made. And since it should have been Kev’s deal—would have been, had he not shown up late—Kev wanted whatever energy backwash he could get off it.

The thing about soul deals was that they were addictive. Sealing the deal involved collecting a vial of blood, sucking the soul out of the body through the open vein, and lastly depositing it in the vial to store. But that hit from the mortal’s blood…the fear and adrenaline, the delicate vitality of the soul, it just did something to a demon. Kev had had his nights of being so wound, so charged, he’d gone back to Hell and stayed up for days, pacing through hot coals and acid marshes, trying to burn off the unidentifiable urges.

But there were other ways to get rid of those feelings. And when Kev had laid eyes on Ira that night, the demon wandering around with his shirt off and his eyes alight, the blood reddening his lips, Kev had sized him up and made a move. Kev was only demon, after all. And Ira had gotten too hot for his clothes, the sweat glistening over his muscled frame. New demon or no, Kev went to him.

“You stole my deal,” he’d said, hoping the anger would get Ira’s attention. It did.

“Don’t be late,” said Ira, grinning. His eyes ran up and down Kev’s body though he was still clothed.

“Looks like it was too much soul for you to handle,” said Kev, and fixed his gaze pointedly on Ira’s immense bulge. Even Kev was starting to sweat, here on the Earth plane, in the abandoned lot of some empty big-box store.

Ira laughed. He stepped closer, aggressive, posturing. He was at least six inches taller than Kev and he wanted Kev to know it. Ira licked more blood off his lips, blood Kev could practically smell with how close they were. Coppery sweet. Blood that should have been his.

“You missed a spot,” said Kev.

“You’re welcome to it, if you dare.”

Kev’s eyes darted to the line of blood on Ira’s lips, considering. He knew what would happen if he leaned up for that blood, and the slight sneer on Ira’s lips was a taunt, an offer of a different sort of deal than the one he’d just made. One sealed with a kiss, and ending with…

Kev leaned up and kissed the blood off the corner of Ira’s mouth. The taste was heady and metallic over his tongue, and barely had he finished when Ira kissed back, ravenous. The demon was as aggressive as his posturing had been, hand to the back of Kev’s head to keep him there, lips pressed so hard it hurt. Ira’s long demon tongue sought Kev’s throat, his other hand grabbing Kev’s ass. Ira’s hard groin pushed against Kev’s hardening crotch, grinding. Just when Kev thought he’d end up passing out from lack of air Ira pulled back, released him. Kev gasped, mouth full of their mingled saliva and the delicious tingle of mortal blood, and then Ira’s hands were on his shoulders.