He also employed a landscaping company to clear the premises of any fallen branches and hazardous objects. I asked him about the reason behind that and his answer was amazingly simple.
“I can’t have my muse injuring herself when she’s running,” he said while lifting my chin with his index finger. “The marks on your body can only be inflicted by me.”
He’s cutthroat and viciously emotionless, but maybe that’s all I need. I’m not in this game for feelings, after all. When push comes to shove, I’d still side with my people.
It’s much better this way. At least I don’t feel guilty spying on an unfeeling monster.
And yet as I stare at my face in the mirror that’s in the middle of the guest room in the Heathens’ mansion, I painfully realize that I put on more makeup than I usually do. My cheeks are rosy, matching the pink color on my lips.
I’m not dolling up for him, right? It’s for myself because I feel beautiful—
My phone vibrates in my dress pocket and I pull it out.
Landon has attached a picture of bags of fertilizer in the cleaned-up gazebo in the middle of the garden.
Devil Lord: Will these satisfy your green-thumb kink?
I smile. He’s been calling me an amateur gardener with an unlikely hobby. Truth is, I always loved tending to the garden back home. Neither Mom nor Dad liked the task, but I take after Aunt Reina—Kill and Gaz’s mother—in that regard.
We each have a beautiful little garden on our bedroom balcony that we often compare notes about. Let’s just say Aunt is winning, so the dead garden at the haunted house is my practice until I can go back to New York and personally greet my plants.
Lan always busies himself with his unfinished statues as soon as he’s cleaned me up and thrown his shirt or hoodie at me. And while I’m thankful for the downtime, he can literally go on sculpting for hours—once, it was over five hours.
So I’ve started bringing my homework, but I finish that in no time. We play chess, but that’s normally a bet on what kink he’s going to indulge in for the day. I usually lose and when I win, it’s only for a harmless bet on his side.
Therefore, I came up with the compromise that I’d plant my flowers and he could watch me from the tall windows of his studio. That way, we can both be productive.
I sit on the edge of the bed and type my reply.
Mia: They’ll do. Have you gotten me the seeds I asked for?
He sends another picture of a bag of seeds.
Devil Lord: At your service, my lady. I am, after all, your favorite gentleman.
Mia: You’re the furthest thing from a gentleman. Don’t be delusional.
Devil Lord: Don’t be ungrateful.
Mia: Thanks. But then again, this is the least you can do for all the inspiration I’ve been giving you.
He finished three statues in a short time and showed pictures of them to his professors. I think the director of some gallery is offering to exhibit them, but Landon refused.
“Not yet.” I heard him talking on the phone. “They’re not exactly perfect.”
I thought he was being sarcastic or exhibiting a false sense of modesty. But one, Landon is so arrogant, modesty would shrivel and die before touching him. Two, he looked serious and was frowning as he said those words.
It's true that I’m not an artist, but even I can see why he’s labeled the genius of his generation. The level of detail he puts in his sculptures can only be described as otherworldly. The lines in the fingers, the creases around the eyes, the dip of flesh beneath a harsh grip. Everything is simply a perfect piece of art.
And yet he just pushes those sculptures to the back, then brings out new subjects to work on. I feel bad for those abandoned ones. They must feel lonely and unwanted.
My phone vibrates, bringing me out of my thoughts.
Devil Lord: I’ve been doing my due diligence by bestowing you with my cum every night.
Mia: And I’ve been giving you the honor of touching me.
Devil Lord: Does that mean I’m lucky?
Mia: Uh-huh. Thank God for it.
Devil Lord: Nonsense. He has nothing to do with what I made happen. See you in an hour.
I trap the corner of my lip between my teeth and type.
Mia: I can’t tonight. I’m having a mandatory dinner at the Heathens’.
Devil Lord: Mandatory? What is this? The sixteenth century?
Mia: Niko and especially Maya are suspicious about all the disappearing I do. I’ve spiraled into a bad mental state when I’ve done that in the past, so they’re freaking out a little, thinking I’m relapsing. I just need to assure them that everything is okay.
Devil Lord: Then tell them you’re seeing someone.
Mia: They’ll want to know who.
Devil Lord: Then just say it’s me. In fact, I don’t mind coming over to introduce myself.
I study my surroundings to make sure no one is around before I type.
Mia: Have you lost your mind? Niko will kill you.
Devil Lord: You won’t let him, right?
I chew on the corner of my bottom lip as I read and reread his words.
Devil Lord: Right?
Mia: Just stay away. Do something productive with your time and water the plants.
Devil Lord: I’m many things, but a background character isn’t in my repertoire of functions.
My eyes narrow. What the hell is that supposed to mean?
“What are you so concentrated on?”
I startle, but soon regain my composure upon seeing Nikolai at the doorway of my room. I didn’t even hear him coming close.
His long hair is loose, stopping at his shoulders and giving him a more rugged look. He’s wearing only sweatpants and a grim expression.
Subtly, I slide my phone back into my pocket, then leave the guest room and sign, “It’s a friend.”
Nikolai follows after and stops me in the middle of the reception area. “Brandon King?”
“No.”
“What other friends do you have?”
Touché.
“It’s really not him.” Just his infuriating twin.
Besides, Bran has been keeping his distance from me lately. Whenever I ask if he’s up for a game, he says he has exams coming up or that he’s focused on a project.
The excuses have become so similar that they stand out. I wonder if he found out about me and Landon. Last week, I finally managed to meet up with him and Remi for a game and Landon happened to come by.
I made a show of ignoring him, but he barged right in, teamed up with Remi against me and Bran, then proceeded to kick our asses.
So I sent him an article-length text with a few choice words, at which Lan laughed, shook his head, and whispered something to Bran before he fucked off to make other people miserable. I wondered if Lan had told him something, but then again, Bran was being distant before that incident. Which has been making me feel weird.
Nikolai is right. Brandon is the first friend I’ve made outside my family.
Jeremy is Nikolai’s best friend, not mine. His younger sister, Annika, used to be friends with Maya, not me—that is, until they fell out of each other’s graces.
Not only am I too difficult to get along with, but I also make it a habit to never let anyone close. I developed severe trust issues after that monster stole my voice. And yet Bran put in the effort and made me feel precious. Until lately, of course.
Maybe I can’t have both, after all.
Either the nice twin or the evil one.
“The more you defend him, the higher he gets on my hit list.” Nikolai’s harsh tone sends a dash of panic through my veins. “I’ll see to this myself.”
I grab onto his arm and then shake my head.
Bran is so drastically different from Lan, if they didn’t share identical looks, no one would believe they’re twins, let alone brothers.
I would never forgive myself if I put him on Nikolai’s merciless radar just because I’m selfish enough to want a friend.