Eva

  Once she had stuffed the cautiously naggy voice into the back of her mind, she exited her bedroom confidently. Eva expected to catwalk right past the demon hunter in her – far too expensive for what it was – lingerie, ready to tease him with what he couldn’t have.

  But Dante wasn't there to witness it.

  She found her apartment empty, just like her efforts, and she began to question her sanity. Her heart, which once pounded against her chest like a drumline, was finally settling, though her embarrassment wasn't.

  Despite the chilled air breezing through her living room from the window, she felt her body warm from its core; an uneasy feeling set in her stomach.

  Exposed was the feeling.

  And absolutely asinine.

  She was a complete idiot to think he was even remotely interested. She'd obviously misread the situation.

  God, and what if her brother had come back?

  Her body shook, both with her embarrassed chuckle and the sudden cold that overtook her. Instead of waiting to be found in her underwear, she found her bathroom and prepared for the night.

  Once she was clean and sane, she headed for her room only to find Dante back and resting on her couch.

  "Hey, where did–"

  "Air." He gruffed out without looking at her. "Just needed some air."

  She nodded, though she knew he couldn’t see it or the small, pleased smile that was playing on her lips.

  "Bed, Evanora,” he growled softly, amusement underlying the commanding tone.

  "I know, I know." She frowned with a roll of her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him behind his back.

  "If you don't want me to put it to use, I suggest you place it back in your mouth, princess." He finally turned in time to see her suck it back between her lips with a quiet squeak of embarrassment before making her way back to her bedroom for the night.

  Yes, sleep was what Eva needed to rid her over-imaginative mind of Dante's threat.

  But in her sleep, she couldn't escape her subconscious. She could feel herself tossing between her sheets.

  Mrs. Wells spat angrily that her death was on Eva's bloody hands before her glossy green eyes blinked blue, mimicking the hellish hound that attacked her previously. Eva had been pulling the tiny woman to safety when her frail demeanor switched to one of nightmares.

  Her coarse, brassy grey hair, which she normally kept in a long side ponytail, was flowing wildly around her, even though Eva felt no breeze. It began to thin and fall out, making liver-spotted bald spots on her crusty scalp. Her already pale crepey skin seemed to pale in a more undead nature with the slow elongation of her now black claws, dripping with blood.

  Eva screamed apologies at the old woman, wishing to right her appearance. To somehow revert her back to the sweet lady who'd once brought her sugar cookies. But the demon continued to shout profanities before reaching out, slashing Eva's chest and leaving four long bloody gashes there.

  In her mind, or the vast space around her, she heard Dante's voice, telling her to run.

  And she did, only really, really slowly.

  It was as if her feet were stuck in the thickest molasses as she tried to run through the never-ending darkness.

  Mrs. Wells, though, seemed to have no problems jumping swiftly. Eva looked back just in time to see her nightmarish form coming down onto her before splitting in two from Dante's long sword, its blow squelching in the silent darkness.

  "What did you do?" She pleaded with him, hands and face covered in red. "You killed her!"

  "No." The word was deafening in the silence, burning her throat and knotting her stomach. His sinister icy stare seemed to ignite her soul. "You did."

  With his words, the floor beneath her evaporated and she fell through, clutching at nothing to keep her afloat and screaming her silent screams.

  Only when she jolted, arms flailing, her scream wasn't silent and she was no longer covered in blood and viscera. She quickly found herself scrambling in her own bed, her hands fingering the damp sheets to make sure she was on a stable surface and not falling into an endless black void.

  She was safe, in her room, not being tormented by some crazed demon out on a vendetta. And she couldn't help the dry chuckle that escaped her, realizing she'd tossed herself right out of her bonnet.

  Her chuckle was, however, cut off by another gasping yelp as Dante burst into her room seconds later. With guns drawn, his vibrant blue eyes scanned the darkness before finally landing on her apologetic expression.

  "I'm sorry." She put a hand to her clammy throat to slow her shaky breathing. “I'm sorry. It's okay. Nightmare, I guess."

  His deep voice was laced with unexpected kindness as he lowered his guns. "Those seem to be more frequent."

  "Yeah, I guess murder and mayhem will do that." She chuckled dryly.

  "Oh, so, you're having a good time?" Sarcasm.

  She knew he was trying to lighten the mood and she was grateful. Her hands went to her face to not only wipe away the perspiration but also the anxiety from herself. "I'm okay. I'm fine."

  "Are you?" He questioned, seeming to notice her eyes dart to every shadow in her room. "Sounds like you're trying to convince the wrong person."

  , was her immediate thought. She was still on edge. She was looking at everything differently. What if there were a demon there in her room? She'd never know until it was too late.

  Which was pretty ridiculous thinking, she had to admit. Dante would know. And technically there a demon in her room.

  But was she afraid of him?

  No, she decided after watching him holster his weapons. As much as she probably should have been, Dante was the only demon she trusted not to bring her harm and not because he was being paid to protect her.

  There was a brief sympathetic look that flashed in his blue eyes before they returned hard, calculating, and grey.

  When he turned to leave her alone again, the shadows in her room seemed more sinister with every step he took. She almost called after him, to request he stay, but was afraid of what it would mean if he did.

  Caving, she caught him just before he reached the door.

  He looked over his shoulder with a sexy smirk that she tried to convince herself wasn’t him being cocky.

  "Not like that, obviously." No. Exactly like that. She worked to keep her own smirk at bay but the way his lush lips curled in a smile turned her on.

  , she forcefully thought to herself, hoping to flood her brain with gross distractions as she watched him swagger to the closed window and push it open. He'd removed his coat in the living room, and now she had a full view of the tight muscles in his broad back just under his fitted grey shirt. Or the way the back of his black jeans hugged his firm-

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "W-what happened to keeping it shut?" She stammered out, pulling up her sheets to cover how hard her nipples were.

  "No sense in suffocating you." His deep voice rumbled out in a gruff mumble, laced with gentle mockery and restraint.

  "Besides," he continued, walking towards her and sitting next to her on the bed. She wasn't sure when he'd taken off his shoes but liked that he hadn't put them on her sheets. "Whatever has the balls to come through, isn't worse than me."

  As Mrs. Wells' abnormal guttural scream filled her thoughts, Eva definitely didn't doubt his confidence.

  Despite Monroe telling her he wasn't on her parent's payroll, she couldn't prevent the phrase 'could have fooled me' from repeating itself in her mind. He'd even picked her up and escorted her to the shop rather than one of her brothers doing the task.

  She remembered Dante's smug smile and know-it-all chuckle. Especially when Monroe gifted her with a seemingly genuine and kind smile, along with a blueberry scone he'd picked up for breakfast.

  But she wasn't interested.

  In the smile; not the scone.

  It was her favorite flavor, after all, something she doubted was a lucky guess.

  It wasn't that he wasn't handsome. Monroe's clean-shaven face highlighted his chiseled features and sharp jawline, giving him a mature yet approachable look. She found herself admitting he was charming, despite her stubborn refusal to be charmed.

  As she organized boxes of incense on the glass shelf next to the desk, she risked a glance over her shoulder at Monroe, who sat lean and stoic in her normal position.

  He spoke with her father about the ins and outs of operating a business, his large yet athletic build evident even under his fitted clothes. Instead of feigning interest, Monroe inquired and truly seemed fascinated.

  His black eyes would dart inquisitively from the information on the screen while her father babbled on, before returning to her father's face. His peach lips parted here and there and even tugged into an understanding smile. A cute smile with dimples just outside both laugh lines around his mouth.

  No, she forced herself to focus, it was because she didn't need another glorified babysitter.

  The entrance bell chimed, making her stop her assessment of his athletic build that was no longer hidden under the fitted coat he'd removed earlier. Her brothers were finally showing up for their shift.

  Nearly four hours late.

  Their parents were pretty lenient when it came to them helping out around the store. With them more than Eva; but she felt this exaggerated tardiness was just ridiculous.

  “Enjoy your morning, boys?" She sneered at them and they ignored her, naturally. It was just “jealous Eva” and they were used to her envy of their freedom.

  "We had them stop and grab lunch on their way in." Her father mentioned.

  “And that took four hours?” She mumbled though the thought of food made her stomach rumble softly. For a moment, her anger dissipated. The scone from earlier was definitely gone and she could totally go for Monty Rae's famous avocado bacon burgers.

  "Yeah, but after what happened last night–"

  "We didn't know you were here," Simon interrupted his brother while ruffling Eva's hair as if she were a toddler. Just their kid sister.

  "Gee, thanks for the delivery." She pushed his hand off her head and smoothed out any flyaways he may have caused, though knew with her wild curls he hadn't made much of a difference. Her original agitation slowly simmered back, festering with her stomach growl.

  Her mother had finally come from the back with a faux apology as she grabbed her sandwich from the greasy bag. "Here's an idea. How about you and Monroe go out for lunch. It's a pretty day."

  Eva eyed her family warily and commented just as dryly, "Look how easily that played out."

  "Almost like it was planned." Lowell smiled around the straw of his drink and nudged his twin.

  "Hmm, ha-ha." She griped, looking at Monroe who had chosen to stay silent during the exchange. Smart move.

  "Monroe.” Her father smiled warmly. "Would you mind taking Eva for lunch? You were just saying you were getting hungry."

  His agreement was quiet when he grabbed Eva's coat for her. It was a gentleman's gesture, and she glared at her family as he began escorting her out the door.

  She knew exactly what they were doing. It was obvious, probably because they hadn't had any practice with her and subtleness. The boys never brought their conquests home for meet and greets – again, smart move – and Eva had never had any suitors.

  Not that she had wanted any. Or rather she just chose not to make a fuss about it. She saw the girls Simon had once paraded through the house when their parents weren't home or sleeping. She didn't even want to imagine what he was like now that he had his own place.

  Her parents had never really given her the chance to be wild. Again, not that she'd wanted to, but now? Now she wasn't so sure.

  She honestly didn't even know what her type was, despite her thoughts repeatedly telling her it wasn't Monroe.

  With a small smile, she scoffed at herself.

  And Dante was?

  Both men held hidden muscles under their coats, sexy smiles with strong jawlines and luscious hair. All things she found attractive in fictional characters or her K-dramas. The bad boy looks but with a soft spot.

  And Monroe, well, Eva wasn't entirely sure Monroe wasn't a pod person. Or some brainwashed pawn in a cult.

  It felt like her parents were forcing her, guiding her into a relationship just as they'd “guided” her whole life. Just like been guided.

  "This is classic brainwashing, you know?" Eva was no longer able to hold her opinion.

  She'd endured the awkward car ride to the lunch destination of her choosing. Of course she'd chosen the same burger shop; the bags her brothers had brought smelt heavenly. She'd stayed silent while he texted and they'd waited for their server to ask about drinks. But as soon as the woman left with their food order, Eva's words pooled from her mouth like hot magma unable to be contained.

  As she explained, his confused expression changed to stone. Though, when he gave his monotone response, she could see slight – and she did mean slight – amusement in his eyes. Now that they were sitting in front of a window with proper lighting, his eyes had shifted from their near-black to dark chocolate, something she knew often happened with her father's eyes. "I'm not brainwashed."

  She snorted. "And water’s not wet."

  Again, he was confused about what one had to do with the other. "This isn't like an arranged marriage deal. Despite what you think. You have a choice."

  He added the last part when Eva rolled her eyes. "So, if I say no to you, you think they – my parents – will just be cool and be like 'of course, baby girl, live your truth’?"

  "No, if you decide I'm not what you're looking for in a spouse, I'm sure there are other suitors available. And willing."

  When a look of mock horror crossed her features, both at the words spouse and suitor, he chuckled. He gave another cute and amused smile before becoming… not exactly serious again, but an expression Eva hadn't seen in him yet. Possibly understanding?

  "Look, I get it. I mean, I don't." Again he chuckled, forming a dimple just below his right cheek. "I was raised knowing about The Society – which I still don't get why your parents waited so long – but there are a lot of cool aspects about this job. I get to fight" – his tone became hushed before returning to normal – "demons. Meet new people, learn new castings… have lunch with a beautiful woman..."

  She'd been looking down at the bubbles in her fizzy drink and chewing her straw tip, but her eyes now narrowed playfully. "Hmm, flattery."

  "No." He shook his head with a small smile. "Honesty."

  He was trying to butter her up and she wasn't falling for it.

  Ignoring the compliment, she asked about The Society and why it existed, only to be met with another confused expression.

  "Your parents, they haven't told you anything?" When she shrugged, she could see him debating with his short hesitation. "The Keeper’s Society has been in place for centuries, maybe longer. It was created when the originals, The Primordials, started to get out of hand. Not just them honestly, everything that came from the Nether. It's to prevent… large-scale apocalyptic scenarios. It really would be better if I had our doctrine to show you.

  "Really? You'd actually show me?" She tried not to sound too eager but failed.

  "I mean, I don't see any reason to keep you in the dark. This is your life. I'm surprised your family hasn't taken the time–"

  "They won't. They treat me like I'm still a child."

  He didn't comment on her opinion or the way she slumped back into her booth with a pout like an actual child. Instead, he explained that he'd do his best to answer any questions she had.

  This caused her to sit upright, not the fact their food was being delivered in front of them. However, she did want to immediately start eating her fries.

  The only one who'd wanted to explain any of this had been Dante.

  She watched him cut his burger in half before lifting the bun and saturating one half, not the other, with a small bottle of red sauce he'd pulled from the breast pocket of his coat.

  Noticing her amused expression, he gave a playful grin. "They don't make food hot enough for me. That is one thing I miss back home in Seoul, the food.”

  He'd ordered a burger with jalape?os and, at the time, she'd mentally questioned the decision. But seeing him devour the sandwich made her smile.

  She hadn't expected him to be so… normal? Silly? Not that he ate weirdly or that she was watching him eat.

  Focus. She felt her brows furrow as she tried to focus on her own plate.

  "Is it not good?" He asked, pointing his index finger at her forehead. "Your eyebrows are doing that worried thing they do."

  Now her brows scrunched even deeper with confusion. She realized she hadn't been the only one surveying.

  "It's my job to know when you're in discomfort." A small smile played on his lips after he wiped them with his napkin. "Please don't read too much into it."

  "So you aren't happy with the arrangements." She tried to make her voice sound amused and not hurt, not realizing just how much she'd been banking on her looks.

  How conceited was she?

  "No, no." He chuckled, reassuring her insecurities. "You most definitely are gorgeous." He gave her an interested once over but his eyes never lingered on the burn as she'd noticed the waitress had each time she came to the table.

  "It's definitely a perk." He continued after another bite. "I can say with certainty that I've never been charged with someone so pretty before."

  His statement confused her. "You've been pushed into an arrangement before?"

  "Oh, no.” He chuckled low before returning to his solemn self. "But as a Reaper, I've been assigned a few charges. Young; old. Mostly older men who've been wounded. Honestly, compared to my other jobs, you are by far the most interesting.”

  Flattery again. And while she tried not to like it, she could feel her guard lowering with Monroe. That was something she wasn't sure she liked or if she even trusted him. But he had offered up some history instead of keeping her in the dark. He'd actually talked to her like an adult and not some adolescent, like the rest of her family. The only other person who'd done that had been Dante.