by Lana Kole
His warm, snuggly body weight…
Stay awake! Get these damned jeans off.
Daria grumbled to herself, Misery was obviously far too gone to wake up. She dared bet he’d sleep through a fire at this point. A frown tightened her lips as she thought of how much he deserved it. He had to live through literal hell every single day, he deserved a damned good sleep.
So she tried to move as little as possible, which meant she moved slow. First one shoe, then the other, hanging the heel off her finger tip so she could drop it to the floor with as small a distance as possible. Then the socks, because who wanted sweaty feet in the middle of the night? Gross. Finally, she could start working on the jeans.
It would have felt weird to go pantless around another guy, one that she wasn’t intimate with, except these were her demons. She’d never been as intimate with someone as she was with them. That’s what happened when someone literally lived in your head every waking moment. I mean, just ‘cause I had residents in my head didn’t mean I stopped showering. She’d tried not to think about it too much.
After unbuttoning, she grabbed her waistband with her free hand, and slowly shimmied until, at last, they slipped past her ass. Now it was just a matter of rubbing the sole of her foot against her calf until they were bunched at her feet.
In other words, Daria worked up a sweat trying to undress herself while half of her body was immobile from the cuddly demon. She’d been so busy concentrating on her movements, she hadn’t even heard the shower turn off.
So that’s exactly how Truth found her. Pants around her ankles, half naked, with Misery still curled around half her body and snoring in her ear.
A blush fired up her cheeks like a flame to kerosene, and she clenched her eyes shut as she cursed. You’ve got to be kidding me.
But then she did a double take. Truth was naked, all except for the towel wrapped around his waist. The towel that was far too small for his frame. Her blush flamed even hotter, and with Misery curled around her she thought she might just die.
This is how I go. Heat stroke from joint efforts of a cuddle demon and a sexy one.
Not that Misery wasn’t sexy, she just—what the hell am I doing?
“Did you forget your clothes?” she asked, trying to pull his attention from her bared skin.
“Nope,” he said with a wink. Then he grabbed one of the bags on her dresser that held the clothes she’d bought earlier in the day. The movement bared a wide strip of flesh, and she averted her eyes, resisting the urge to fan herself.
“Need help?” he inquired, fighting a grin, and Daria realized she’d paused in her efforts to get her pants off.
“Nope, I’m good,” she managed to squeak out. “It just got hot.”
“Oh, I’m sure it did,” he commented, and then he left with another wink and a last backwards glance to peruse all her creamy skin.
These demons are gonna be the death of me.
DARIA
Daria was still awake, thinking about everything that had happened recently, when Truth returned. After her run in with his state of undress, paired with her state of undress, plus the arm wrapped snugly around her waist, and well, consider her wide awake.
Now she was curled up on her side, with Misery tucked tight to her back, his arm holding her close and planted right between her breasts.
It’d been… a while since Daria had been so close to a man, any man, so she couldn’t say she was completely unaffected by the proximity of the intimate position. She’d spent the time while Truth was gone trying to keep her mind off just how close Misery was. She didn’t know exactly how long it had been because her phone was in her bag and her bag was probably with Truth so he could pay for groceries. Snickering at the thought of him carrying her purse around, she didn’t even know what time of night it was.
Truth’s footsteps were soft, hesitant as he paused outside the door, and Daria perked her head up when the door cracked open. Peeking his head in, Truth smiled at her from his vantage point. “You’re still up? Just wanted to let you know I was back. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Too many late nights watching TV had been spent on that couch, and Daria knew it was an uncomfortable sleep. “What, are you shy or something? I’ve already got one demon in bed with me, might as well go for double.”
That… sounded better in my head.
Her cheeks flamed at the double entendre, but she patted the empty space in front of her nonetheless. Truth wavered, studying her face, maybe for hesitation?
Whatever he was looking for, he must not have found it because he glided across the room before stripping his pants off, leaving him in boxers and a t-shirt.
She sighed. Honestly, it seemed she couldn’t escape the fact that these demons were the most attractive men she’d ever met.
“You good?” he asked once he was situated. By situated, Daria meant he was curled up next to her, eye to eye. With any other person, it would have been awkward. Hell, Daria didn’t think she’d ever fallen asleep face to face with her last boyfriend. And she’d been willing to make him her fiancé.
Irony.
“I’m good,” she squeaked out. “Where’d you go?”
“Just to the grocery store. Picked up some things.”
“You’re awfully independent for a demon who’s only just becoming accustomed to… existing again,” she admitted.
“What can I say? I’ve learned a few things over the years.”
They didn’t say anything for a long while, the quietness in the apartment and the comfort of being… all together made her eyelids heavy.
Well not all.
That was still a problem.
But a problem for tomorrow.
For now, Daria was living in the moment.
And in the moment, Truth’s ocean blue eyes were bright enough to drown in, emotion chasing across the surface. She wondered what emotions he witnessed flittering across her face too, because Daria wasn’t even sure what emotions she was feeling. It was all blurry—no, that was Truth’s face as he moved closer. So close she couldn’t even see him, so her eyes fluttered shut as his breath warmed her cheek.
Is he going to ki—
Misery groaned in his sleep and tugged her closer to him, pulling her away from Truth as her eyes flew open. It shattered the aura that surrounded whatever was about to happen.
Cheeks flaming at just how much she’d been wanting that closeness, she mumbled a good night and slammed her eyelids shut.
His chuckle was soft and sent a wave of warmth through her. “Goodnight, Daria.”
Light streamed in through the crack in the curtains at the perfect angle to blind Daria when she blinked her eyes open the next morning. A survey of the bed told her Misery had disappeared somewhere, but Truth had done his best to take up the rest of the vacated space. She had to admit that her queen bed was a tight squeeze for three people, and Truth apparently felt the same way. He was sprawled out as if to make up for the hours he’d spent cramped up next to her throughout the night.
Speaking of, where was her other demon?
Sleep tried to drag her back under, the warm bed providing too much temptation to give up.
But then a smell drifted through the room, one that had her sitting up in alarm.
Fire.
“Fuck!”
Daria threw the covers aside, hitting a grumbling Truth in the face with the blanket as she darted from the bed. Tossing the bedroom door open, she dashed down the hallway, landing in the living room, and coming to a complete halt, the sight before her too much to comprehend this early.
Misery… in the kitchen? Cooking. Or trying to, from the looks of it. Dressed in all black, he groaned as he waved a dishtowel over the smoking waffle maker. The waffle in question seemed to match his outfit, a nice crispy black color.
Daria relaxed and opened the window next to the bar so the smoke could escape.
“Making accessories?” she teased.
“What?” he barked.
&nbs
p; Nodding to the crispy waffle, she struggled not to laugh. “It matches your outfit.”
A glare was all she received in return, and this time the laugh escaped before she could stop it.
“Like you can say a lot. Nice outfit, Daria.”
Glancing down, Daria realized she was still totally pantless from the night before, but she pretended it didn’t bother her and stuck her tongue out at Misery.
“Let me put some pants on and I’ll come help. Don’t burn the place down.”
When she returned to the bedroom, the sight of Truth stopped her in her tracks. He was stretching, arms over his head, rucking his shirt up and baring a tanned strip of flesh. His muscles flexed taut as he groaned in relief and Daria wished she could erase the sound from her mind. Too similar to what she assumed he sounded like during… other things. She swallowed before moving to the dresser for a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt.
“Don’t get up on my account,” she teased. “Misery’s just trying to burn the house down.”
“Shit, really?”
“Waffles.” Daria laughed again. Really, who burned waffles? The light turned green when they were done. But instead of annoying her, it just endeared Misery to her more. “I’m going to shower and change, then I’ll help.”
In the shower, with the hot water washing away the stress from the night before, she rubbed a palm over her chest, where the bullet had pierced her skin. And ended her life. Again.
I hope it’s not a nine lives thing, where I only have so many to go through before one sticks.
It was weird. Dying. Daria didn’t know what it was supposed to be like, but for her, it was just falling asleep and waking up. The most fucking painful nap ever.
Thinking of her own death led her to worry about Death. And Hope and Betrayal. With the Andrew disaster, they were no closer to finding the chaopadós’ HQ than they had been when they’d set out the night before.
It was frustrating. The movies and books made it seem so easy, like all the clues were just there for them to find if they just looked in the right place. But unfortunately, Daria didn’t even know where to begin looking.
A rush of guilt speared her, pulling goosebumps to her flesh even in the hot spray of the shower. Here she was basically playing house with Misery and Truth, while who knew what was happening to her other demons.
A smile tugged at her lips at her choice of words, and she finished her shower with haste.
I just hope they’re okay.
When Daria was finally dressed in her comfiest yoga pants and t-shirt, she followed the smell of bacon into the living room and kitchen. Misery was no longer running things it seemed, since Truth was the one in front of the skillet and the waffle maker.
“Is there coffee?” she asked.
Misery slid a cup to her. “At least I can make that,” he grumbled.
With a sip of the creamy sweetness, she sighed and glanced over at him. “It’s the thought that counts. And this is the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had.”
“Oh, don’t placate me,” he replied, but she saw the hint of satisfaction in his dark eyes before he turned back to his own cup. His gaze lingered on her shirt a little longer than necessary and she glanced down to see what he was staring at.
Is there a stain?
Nope. A laugh burst out of her when she realized the shirt she’d once grabbed at a thrift store was a little too close to home. In the gym, exorcising my demons was stamped on the front in gray letters
Before she spilled her coffee laughing, Daria moved to set her mug down on the table, but with a glance, she realized there wasn’t any room for all the bags taking up space. Curious, she rummaged through them and discovered… bags and bags of candy.
“Uh, Truth? Exactly how much money did you spend on candy?”
He waved her off as he grabbed a wrapped piece of sugar from the bag laying on the counter next to the half empty pack of bacon. “I didn’t only buy candy, Daria. I bought cookies and cake mix too. And some other stuff.”
“Any real food?” Daria feared she’d be making another stop at the bank soon.
“Lots of breakfast stuff, and some pasta. Easy stuff to make.”
He had to have been telling the truth, because, well… need she explain? So she sat back down and wrapped her hands around the warm mug of coffee. If they were content to eat at the bar, so was she. Hell, maybe she’d get really crazy and go to the living room.
“What’s the game plan for today?” she inquired, hoping magically one of them had woken up with an idea or a new clue had come to mind.
“We’re not really sure.”
See? Only happened in movies.
Daria sighed, her thoughts turning sour as she thought of what her demons were possibly experiencing while she drank delicious coffee and Truth made waffles and bacon.
Her stomach grumbled and she sipped coffee, ignoring it. “Do you need help with anything?”
Turning her down, Truth focused on transferring the bacon to a plate and pouring batter into the freshly vacated waffle maker. Eyeing the stack of steaming waffles next to it, she wondered just how many he planned to make.
“Do you wanna watch TV with me?” she asked Misery.
His dark eyes cut to her, seemingly startled at her question, but he nodded and followed her where she led the way to the couch. With a press of a button, an infomercial flicked on and she skipped to the next channel to see what was on.
Several clicks later, Misery’s voice jolted her. “I thought you said we were going to watch TV? All you’ve done is flipped channels. Pick one already.”
“Oh, don’t get your damned panties in a wa—” Daria paused, the headline on the screen catching her attention and halting her every thought.
MAN DROWNED ON NIGHTCLUB DANCE FLOOR.
A press of the volume button prompted the green bar to rise on the bottom of the screen, and the reporter’s voice droned with the latest story.
“… twenty-six year old male. According to eyewitnesses in The Beginning’s nightclub, the victim appeared to drown before their very eyes. As you can see, it’s a little chaotic here, but we have a witness here to speak.” Then the screen cut to a young woman, pale, red-eyed, and shaking, if the coffee cup sloshing in her hand was anything to go by. Her sparkly red dress wasn’t so glamorous in the early morning light.
“Like I said, we were dancing one minute, and the next he was bent over puking water all over the floor. But not like he’d drank a lot, but like, like a geyser or something had burst inside him. I didn’t even think the human body could hold that much—” her voice choked off into shaken sobs, and she apologized before turning off screen. The newscaster’s face was filled with pity as she shook her head. “As you can see, the scene was quite traumatic according to a few eyewitnesses, but the coroner’s report has yet to… ”
The green bar decreased in the opposite direction as Daria turned the TV back down.
“Is that him?” Death?
“Sounds the fuck like it!” Truth whooped from the kitchen, spatula in hand, before he flipped another piece of bacon.
“Death can… exacerbate anyone’s death. That guy was probably supposed to drown from an actual water-related accident. But with Death involved, his body died the way it was supposed to, just… maybe not at the right time.”
“Or place, apparently,” Daria scoffed, shaking her head. “Why would he do that? I thought you guys said you weren’t bad.”
Misery flinched away from her and she instantly regretted her words.
“It’s what he was created to do. Each of our namesakes call to us like that, but we’re used to resisting it.”
“Why wasn’t he?”
Misery shrugged. “The cult wants us for a reason. Maybe they… convinced Death to go along with whatever they’re planning.”
Shaking her head, Daria remembered Death’s calm, rational tone in her head. There’s no way he’d just go along with what the cult wanted him to do. He also seemed the most h
urt by her mother’s death. The last thing he would do is give in to their wants.
Which meant whatever they were doing to convince him had to be brutal.
“We need to find them,” she whispered, watching the muted TV as another eyewitness took to the screen.
“Yes, we do. But first, food.”
Her stomach twisted at the thought, but when she turned doubtful eyes to Truth, he just shook his head and pointed to the chair she’d vacated.
“Now.”
Narrowing her eyes at the command in his tone, she mocked his expression with cross-eyes before taking the seat he’d so graciously pointed out to her.
“Fine. But tonight, I think we need to get out a little more.”
“Agreed,” Truth said with a grin. “I think I need to live a little. How about you, Misery?” A smile twitched Truth’s lips. “You feel like dancin’?”
MISERY
He was one miserable bastard, but he swore to Dora’s damned box, every time he caught a glimpse of Daria’s creamy thighs in her stupidly short dress, he suddenly didn’t have the urge to jump out in front of oncoming traffic.
Truth walked on the other side of her, chomping obnoxiously on whatever random piece of candy he’d pulled out of his pocket this time. And Misery had to admit even he cleaned up nice, what with his surfer boy looks and lean muscles. Misery himself even felt a little snazzy in his get up, despite the fact he wanted to slit his own throat.
He tugged at the hem of his black shirt as the nightclub came into sight. Already, he could hear the desperate calls of sadness, loneliness, and pain around them, just begging to be amplified to the point of agony.
Chill the fuck out.
It couldn’t be helped though. Inside Pandora’s Jar, the urges were quieted, but here, in the world... far from it. Flesh and blood and pain and tears called to him like a sweet siren’s song. And Misery would love nothing more than to walk the fucking plank into the depths of anguish awaiting him with open arms. His thoughts were interrupted when a bulky bastard shoved his way between him and Daria as he passed them on the street, bursting into tears as soon as Misery’s arm grazed his.