After that one time, Kyle had avoided seeking help from Satanists. It had always been safer to keep Ryka as far away from innocent souls as possible. Especially ones who may have been willing to corrupt themselves to help him. On the rare occasion Kyle could have used a place to lay low, he had managed to find alternatives. Ryka had suggested it, of course, but been uninterested or unbothered when Kyle had ignored him.

Now, though, these arrangements were out of his hands. Where Lucifer sent them, and to who, were not decisions he was in any place to question. He often wondered if these small things were meant to in some way make up for the damnation he had avoided. He supposed he could ask Ryka, but wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the extent of Lord Satan’s spiteful nature.

Instead, he sighed and accepted another beer. The woman handing it to him dipped her head, beaming at the honor. Kyle bared his teeth, but not in a smile. “You look way too miserable for someone being handed free booze,” Ryka remarked before taking a healthy swig of his own drink. A cigar burned in his other hand, smoke curling up between them. Kyle snatched the cigar, took a puff, then tamped it out. “Hey!”

He knew he shouldn’t have been this pissy about it. But when on Earth, he preferred it being just he and Ryka. Not he, Ryka, and a horde of Satanists. He supposed he should have been glad they weren’t the shitty cultist kind, the real sinners, but he really wasn’t in the mood for a party.

But the coven felt like the demons needed to be feted, so here they were. In the Temple gallery, music low in the background, cups overflowing with beer and liquor while the members took turns introducing themselves to - and ogling - the demons in their midst. It felt like casual worship, and it gave Kyle chills, or whatever the equivalent was to a creature that couldn’t feel cold.

He still had no idea how it was managed, but their arrival been expected - at least no one had said “foretold” - and there was a room waiting for them. This party had also already been in the works.

Taking the drink from his hand and finishing it himself, Ryka inserted himself into Kyle’s field of view. “Is it the party? Or that we’re back in Vegas?”

Kyle bristled at the name. Forever would have been too soon to be back in this mortal Hell. Teeth clenched, he hissed out a negative, but judging by how far Ryka’s eyebrows arched, he wasn’t believed.

“I know you didn’t like being holed up in those casinos. I’m sorry, stud.” His sincerity was enough to help Kyle relax, his shoulders dropping incrementally away from his ears. “This will be a quick visit, too. We just need to check in on that incubus. Then we can go home.”

He felt Ryka pulling strings, forcing eyes away as he leaned in to kiss Kyle. Kyle let himself be wooed. Enough that he was about to suggest they go find their room, when someone burst through the gallery door.

“Sorry I’m late!” the newcomer shouted, breaking the spell. At least they hogged all the attention, meaning no one saw Kyle extricating Ryka’s hand from his pants. Stunned greetings followed, but the late arrival waved them off, finally noticing the guests of honor were already present.

This was what Kyle disliked so much, this being treated like gods. Sure, they were immortal, and Ryka especially had power. But if he was going to be stuck with humans, he didn’t want to be constantly reminded about what they were. And he was sure this woman, who had just stopped in front of them, was going to be no exception to the usual star-struck Satanist. The others had been welcoming, but distant, demurely bowing their heads whenever they were spoken to or looked at. Kyle braced himself.

“Hi! I’m Miranda!” She held out her hand, and for a moment Kyle just stared at it. None of the others had even risked their fingers brushing when they’d handed over a drink. This one was brazen.

Before he could react, Ryka was on his feet, taking Miranda’s hand and bringing it to his lips. He pressed a kiss onto the back of her hand, and she blushed crimson. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Ryka. This is Kyle.”

Kyle stood. He settled for a handshake. “Hi.” For standing at least a foot shorter than him, she had a strong grip. At least she didn’t try for prolonged, direct eye contact. But she really wasn’t like the others. Sure, she was wearing traditional black. But it was a shimmery sheath dress, cut to flatter her ample curves. She looked ready for a night out.

He cast a sideways glance at Ryka, who was grinning wide enough to show off his mouthful of weapons. The way he was acting with this new human … either she was someone they could trust, or she’d be dead by the end of the night. He found himself hoping for the former.

“I was supposed to be in charge of planning this party, but was unfortunately out of town. This-” she motioned at the subdued gathering “-was not what I had in mind.”

“What did you, then?” Kyle was curious to know, too.

“Glad you asked. Let’s go!”

***

As much as Kyle hated this city, Miranda found a way to make it less miserable. She kept them well off the Strip, away from the tourists. Although the perfume of anxiety and despair that wafted off them kept hunger at bay, Kyle preferred to be away from the big crowds.

“What? Still worried I’ll end this night with a massacre?” They were in the quietest corner of a dive bar, mostly empty given that it was a Wednesday night, and Kyle still thought Ryka’s question too loud. When he took too long to answer, Ryka continued, “I’ll only paint these walls with blood if you ask me to.”

A sweet gesture, that he’d be willing to forgo butchering a roomful of alcoholics for fun if Kyle’d rather he didn’t. “Let’s just drink, okay?” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice, and flinched when he saw Ryka’s eyes dim.

“What can I do to make you happy?”

Even if he’d known what to say, he wouldn’t have had the chance. Bearing two more beers, Miranda appeared in front of them. “Last round here?” Kyle nodded. She was trying so hard - he was starting to feel bad for being such a grump. Especially when she was the complete opposite.

She was her Temple’s social director, and it was clear why. She liked people, and people liked her. This was only their second stop, and they’d already run into dozens of friends and acquaintances. Satanism was still mired in controversy, but Kyle imagined that with someone like Miranda at the wheel, it wouldn’t take long for people to change their minds.

She even treated him and Ryka like old friends, effortlessly introducing them as brothers in Satan from a Temple on the East coast. And because of her relaxed attitude, they were given a warm reception. No one questioned why they’d be wearing heavy trench coats in the desert. They simply accepted that they were guests of Miranda’s and therefore good people. Even if, in reality, they were neither.

“Do you want to go back, stud?” They had maintained somewhat of a distance all night, sitting close, but not too close. Now, though, Ryka cupped Kyle’s chin in his hand and pressed their foreheads together. “Maybe I can find a way to make you smile, hmm?”

Still holding out two sweating beers, Miranda only looked surprised for a moment. Then, with that winning smile, told them, “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

***

Given that cramming into a taxi of any size was uncomfortable with wings, Miranda suggested they hoof it - no pun intended - to their next destination. The other members of the coven that had tagged along to the bars stayed behind at Miranda’s request. She promised to catch up with them there later, and they’d all raised a glass to her as she’d escorted her charges out the door.

“It’s like that, is it?” she asked, once they were on their way. Even in spike heels, she had no problem keeping pace with the demons. “If I’d known, I would have planned things differently. Or should I pretend I don’t know?”

In an attempt to get his other half to loosen up, Ryka pretended to be interested in their surroundings, leaving Kyle to converse with Miranda. “It is. And it’s not a secret or anything. We just ….” Were trying to keep our distance, Kyle thought. There was no point in getting attached to mortals. They had such short lives.

“Have you been together long?” From anyone else, Kyle would have found this questioning annoying or intrusive. But she was genuinely interested.

Ryka found his hand and squeezed it. Meaning it was okay to tell her anything he wanted to. Kyle again found himself hoping that Miranda would make it through the night. She was so kind.

“Well, I was just out of college and about to start working ….”

***

Kyle had no idea how far they’d walked or for how long. Once he’d started chatting with Miranda, time had passed quickly. She’d been stunned to hear his story, but hadn’t been nosy. Kyle thought back fondly on the first group of Satanists he’d ever met, when he was still Ryka’s host. Based on the sly grin Ryka had aimed at him, he remembered, too.

In case Ryka got any ideas about blabbing about his fling with one of its members, Kyle dugs his claws into Ryka’s palm. That earned him a wonderful, deep chuckle, but also Ryka’s continued silence on the subject. Which left room for Miranda to share a little about herself.

“My first boyfriend got me into Satanism. Honestly, he was so gorgeous he could’ve convinced me to join just about anything. We split when he moved overseas. We’re still in touch, though.”

“Are you seeing anyone now? You’re very popular with the rest of your group.”

“I try to date outside the Temple. It gets too messy if things don’t work out. And for now, I’m just keeping things casual. Having fun. You know, if you’re interested, I can bring you to some of the clubs I like. Even if you’re not interested in hooking up, the scenery is nice.”

Finally, Ryka had something to say. “Could be fun,” he offered, winking at Kyle, who just rolled his eyes.

“Ah, but speaking of clubs, here we are.”

Belatedly, Kyle realized he should have asked where Miranda was taking them. He didn’t get easily embarrassed like he used to, but she had stopped them at the door to what appeared to be a sex club. Next to him, Ryka smothered his laughter.

“I mean, I’m not sure what you’re into. I can attest to it being a fun, clean place. But I really wanted you to meet the owner. He’s one of our biggest donors.”

Without waiting for a response, Miranda pushed open the door and motioned for Kyle and Ryka to enter. The building was windowless, but the lobby wasn’t as dimly lit as Kyle had expected. Pink and red neon lights blared the club’s name - “Lust” - from behind what looked very much like a hotel’s front desk. Red damask-print wallpaper covered the walls, and heavy purple velvet drapes hung alongside all the doorways. A series of them lined two long halls that branched off the lobby. Nearly-black wood-patterned flooring was dotted with black shag rugs. To the left of the desk, a neon-lit display case showed off some of the paraphernalia available for use. It was, in a word, tacky.

But Ryka’s attention didn’t linger for more than a moment on the decor. Kyle’s either. Because they weren’t the only immortals in the building.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Under his breath, Ryka muttered, “Well, that explains a lot.”

From behind a beaded curtain blocking the mouth of a shorter hall emerged the club’s proprietor. In tight leather pants and a red satin shirt, with dark hair slicked back, he certainly looked like someone who’d be running an S&M club. “Randy! You’ve brought new friends!” His smile hardly faltered when he caught sight of Kyle and Ryka.

Their gazes were firmly fixed on him, though. He was good at blending in, but he didn’t need to do much to look fully human. His hair did a fair job hiding his nubs of horns, and his black tail was camouflaged against his pants enough so that he didn’t need to waste much energy. The dark coloration was unusual for an incubus, but not as strange as his complete lack of wings.

“Dovie! I have! This is Kyle and Ryka. They’ve come to visit from one of our sister Temples.”

“How wonderful.” The incubus was doing an amazing job feigning excitement. To Miranda, he must have looked delighted to be meeting her companions. But Kyle watched his tail coil tighter around his thigh, and the slight lift of his chin that exposed his throat just a little more. He didn’t want trouble.

They didn’t, either. Most of the other demons they dropped in on at Lucifer’s request were equally as surprised, though not so quick to submit. Although their presence wasn’t always welcome, they weren’t there to police anything, just to check in and occasionally pass messages back and forth between Lord Satan and his minions working in Purgatory. Something they usually did as quickly as possible. They’d had fun with an incubus a time or two, but that was a rare treat.

“So pleased to meet you both. I’m Dove. Welcome to Lust.” Teeth bared in what was supposed to be a smile, Dove stepped forward, hand extended. Ryka didn’t kiss this one. Dove’s anxiety was becoming more and more obvious, though he managed to keep his tone jovial when he asked Miranda, “Room for three?”

Blushing and waving off his question, she shook her head. “I think I’d be an unwanted third wheel, so not this time. We were out grabbing drinks, but since you do so much for us, I wanted them to meet you.” Turning to Kyle and Ryka, she explained, “He lets us host parties here at a discount and donates so much money to our programs. He’s only been in business a few years, but this place has quite the following already. He’s a good host. Very discreet.”

Of course he is, Kyle thought. If he wasn’t, he’d be chased out and lose his meal ticket. What better place for an incubus to feed than a sex club? Even better that he ran it himself - he could pick and choose his clients to better satisfy his tastes.

Kyle was pulled back into the conversation by Ryka looping an arm around his waist. “In that case, maybe we’ll stay for a while. Make that a room for two.”

Kyle just stammered at him, but Miranda was not remotely flustered by this announcement. “Have so much fun! Your room will be ready back at the Temple, but we’ll be at that bar for a while if you want to join us. If you need help getting back, Dovie knows how to reach me.” With that, she made her exit, leaving the three demons to stand awkwardly in the lobby. From down one of the halls came a whip-crack and a loud moan.

“She doesn’t know what you are, then.”

It wasn’t a question, but Dove shook his head. “But she knows about you?”

Ryka nodded. “Poor girl. Was playing us off as human to someone she has no idea isn’t.”

“Don’t hurt her.” If it was supposed to be a threat, it wasn’t very convincing. Not with a high whine behind his words and his throat now fully exposed.

“Didn’t plan on it.” Dove looked as relieved as Kyle felt. Miranda - what had Dove called her? Randy? - had already grown on him. “So … ‘Dove?’”

At that, the incubus just shrugged. “You know how he is.” Did they ever. “Even when I had them, my wings weren’t white.” That begged a question even Ryka didn’t look comfortable asking. Kyle knew there were a few cases of demons losing their wings, and knew it was always better to mind your own damn business on the subject. “So, what really brings you here?”

It was apparently a night for unfinished thoughts, because when Kyle opened his mouth to tell him it was just a routine check-in, Dove cut him off. “Is it the imports?”

“The what?” Kyle wondered if he looked as confused as Ryka, who now had his head cocked to one side. “What imports?”

“Shit.” Having given himself away, Dove could only sigh. “Follow me.”

He led them through the beaded curtain. This hall only had two doors on each side, and one at the far end. This was the one he opened. The room was stacked with storage crates, and he slid the lid off one to reveal the contents: metal cuffs and chains in what had become to Kyle a familiar dark sheen. Hell-forged iron.

Wringing his hands, Dove explained, “I have clients - other demons - that come looking for fun. Nothing made here lasts, so when they’re called off-duty, they stock up and smuggle some back.”

“How often do you go back?” Kyle picked up a length of chain. This was what he used on Ryka at home. Demons could still break through it, but not easily. Bondage was tricky for immortals.

“Not often. I haven’t been in a century at least. And I’m always back fast.”

“How long do you stay in one place?” Ryka was investigating the crate’s contents, too, and bumped Kyle with his shoulder. They had given up their disguises when Miranda had left, and Kyle felt the tip of Ryka’s tail flicking his ankles.

“Maybe a decade at most. I move on before anyone gets suspicious. I take what I can of this, but there’s always more.” Dove paused, also reaching in, and pulled out a collar. “He must know, right?”

“Can’t imagine he doesn’t,” Ryka answered. “I’m guessing he doesn’t care. He didn’t say anything to us. Just asked us to pop in and make sure you were okay.” Ryka took the collar from Dove and fit it around his own neck. “How’d you meet that one?” This with a nod back toward the lobby.

“Randy? She brought a date here. We just started chatting after he left, hit it off. I don’t go there at all, but … I don’t need the money, except to keep this place running. So the rest I give to them.”

“Hm.” They had technically done their job. The incubus had been found. They had talked to him. Now they had several days to waste. Ryka thought there was only one way to burn up their time.

Dove- with his incubus instincts - was truly the consummate host, already anticipating his clients’ whims. With a knowing smirk, he attached a chain to Ryka’s collar, and passed the loose end to Kyle. “Room for two, was it?”

“Three, later, if you care to join.”

“I’ll bring wine.”

***

The Temple opened to the public at ten a.m., and that was when Kyle and Ryka finally returned. Miranda was tidying up the gift shop along with a few other members.

“Welcome back.” It looked like she wanted to tease, but thought better of it. “Off to bed?”

Ryka looked to Kyle, who shrugged. They hadn’t slept at all, but then they didn’t really need to. What they had done with some of their night was question Dove about the Satanists. About Miranda in particular, who was meant to be their primary contact. And he’d done nothing but rave about her. And encourage them to let her take them out. “After a few drinks, you’ll see why I started calling her ‘Randy,’” he’d told them.

In a much better mood after their visit to “Lust,” Kyle thought maybe he wanted to do more than just sit and wait until they were summoned home. “Just for a little,” he finally answered. “Then we were hoping you’d take us out again. Show us your other favorite spots.”

“It would be my pleasure.” She finished folding a t-shirt before turning to face them both. “Though if you want to keep up with me tonight, I suggest more than a nap.”

“I like this one,” Ryka said, nudging Kyle in the direction of their room. “I think we’ll keep her.”

***

After an unnecessary - but still delicious - dinner, Miranda had gone home to prepare herself for their night out. The demons had limited options, but did their best.

“You know, I wish I’d thought to do this way back when,” Kyle remarked, using his claws to slice out a spot for his wings in a t-shirt. He’d just done the same for Ryka. They had to pull the shirts up instead of over their heads, but at least they were wearing something under their “trench coats” when they went out.

“Who the fuck would we have been dressing up for?”

“I mean, when Adam was at the house.”

“I wanted him to see.” A not-so-gentle punch to the arm didn’t hurt Ryka, but at least sent a message. “What? I told you I wouldn’t lie to you. Should I start now?”

“I’m in a good mood. Why are you trying to ruin it?” Tailoring complete, Kyle stepped into his shirt and tugged it up into position. “Should have asked for button-downs.”

“Next time.”

That he found himself hoping there was one in this place was an arresting thought. He was going to ask Ryka if he hoped the same when he heard Miranda punching in the building’s lock code at the front door.

“You boys ready?” she called up the stairs moments later.

“‘Boys?’” Ryka seemed more amused than anything. Kyle liked his when his other half was feeling laid back, and it was nice to see him that way now.

“Coming!” Kyle returned, instantly regretting his choice of words.

“I’ll have you shouting that later at Dove’s place, too.” Before he could dig himself further - or give in to Ryka’s crude flirting - Kyle grabbed him by the forearm and dragged him toward the exit.

***

Miranda had been right - the scenery was nice at the club. She was certainly part of it. Another little black dress, sky-high heels, dark hair styled up and fierce makeup meant she was garnering plenty of looks. Even dressed down, Kyle and Ryka received appreciative glances, but it was Miranda who pulled the spotlight in their direction.

They had already been here several hours, tossing back overpriced drinks - Kyle hoped on Hell’s tab - and surreptitiously ogling other club-goers. He and Ryka were perched on stools on either side of Miranda, and it was dim enough that Ryka kept his tail entwined with Kyle’s under her seat.

“You two look like my bodyguards,” she mused, having to practically scream over blaring house music.

This city was an epicenter of sin, and this club was crawling with corrupt souls. But whether it was their looming presence or simply Miranda’s good luck, those stayed away from her. So as much as the demons looked the part, prey wasn’t eagerly presenting itself.

What they did attract were men looking to take their place at her side. And it was easy enough for them to tell from Miranda’s body language whether she wanted the new suitor’s attention or not. When one approached, drinks in hand, and Miranda breathed a quiet sigh of annoyance, Ryka stepped in the man’s path, snatched the cups and drained them both in two swallows. “She’s not interested. But I’ll take two more of these, cutie.” Horrified, the man had quickly turned tail and retreated back to his pack of friends.

“You’re good at this.” Miranda seemed impressed, though some of that was the liquor talking, Kyle was sure.

“We can see sin. And the intention of it,” Kyle explained.

Her eyes went wide. “Was one of those spiked? That guy’s a pain in the ass, but-”

“It might have helped the flavor.” Ryka was chasing the mixed drinks with beer. His, then Kyle’s.

“Hey!”

“I’ll make it up to you.” The “in bed” was unspoken, but Kyle heard it loud and clear.

“That’s not-”

“Sh!” Stunned, Kyle looked down at Miranda, to find all her attention was now across the room. Rather, at the lanky but very well-dressed man fighting his way through the crowd toward them. “Oh, shit. Sorry. So sorry. But I’ve been chasing this guy forever.” She quickly turned her back to the room, adjusting her dress to maximize her cleavage. “Is he still headed this way?”

“He is,” Kyle answered. “And he’s trying to flag the bartender to order you another drink.” He motioned at the empty glasses in front of her.

“You two are good wingmen.”

“We’re well-equipped.” Subtly, so as not to break the illusion, Ryka adjusted his wings. “But so are you.” Ryka eyed her up and down, which got Kyle’s attention. He knew Ryka was trying to make him jealous. And was annoyed it was working.

“You’re so sweet.”

“That really depends.” When Miranda shot him a questioning glance, Ryka glared back toward the man who had tried bringing drinks over earlier. “We’ll make ourselves scarce. But if anyone fucks with you, just know we’ll hunt them down and make them experience exquisite regret.” This, Kyle knew, meant a slow, painful death resulting in a murder scene that would likely leave the coroners looking for a career change. Miranda paled. “But as disappointing as it is to say, I don’t think you’ll have a problem.”

“Oh.” Kyle didn’t think she’d in any way forgotten who or what they were, but leave it to Ryka to give her a reminder that had the scent of her fear overpowering the sweat and cheap cologne so prevalent in the room.

“So we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Even after Ryka’s reminder, she looked hurt that they thought she might want them gone. “Stay! Really, I-”

But Ryka shook his head. “I think we might go bother Dove at ‘Lust.’” Kyle rolled his eyes at Ryka’s feigned uncertainty. Dove had promised another satisfying night; they would have the place to themselves. And Dove seemed to know where to send the bill for any resulting damages. So they had always planned to sneak away at some point.

“Glad you three hit it off.” Miranda had read the appropriate amount into Ryka’s comment, and winked at the demons. “Take care of him.”

“Oh, we will. Right, stud?”

Still cursed with slow reaction time this trip, Kyle barely had time to open his mouth before Ryka had scooped him up. It took all his focus not to fan his wings as he suddenly found himself with his feet off the floor, Ryka’s hands under his ass. Instinct had him wrapping his legs around Ryka’s waist and bracing himself against his shoulders, claws piercing his t-shirt.

“Ry!”

“What? You like being fucked like this.”

Kyle heard Miranda bite back a laugh. Her suitor was only steps away now, and Kyle really didn’t need him overhearing any of this conversation. Luckily, he knew how to make Ryka move fast.

Leaning down, he brushed his lips against Ryka’s ear. “‘Lust’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. I don’t think I can wait any longer.” Ryka’s breath hitched, and then Kyle was waving “good-bye” to Miranda as Ryka hustled them to the door. It was nice, he thought, to be able to get in the last word once in a while. So just to hear Ryka whimper, he purred a low, “Please hurry.”