A Killer's Killer [The Demon’s City] BL

Chapter Three.

*******

Demon was a child again.

The air in the house hummed with a purple mist and felt like it was clinging to his skin as it moved around. He couldn't understand how the mist had gotten there. Has it always been there? His small hands trembled as he clutched the stolen money with his breath coming in gasps.

"Maria, please," he begged in a hoarse voice.

His sister stood in front of him. She was older and stronger than him. She was always quick to remind him that she was the favorite.

"You're gonna be in so much trouble," she taunted.

"No. Please, don't tell him."

But Maria was already running toward their father's office.

Demon moved to chase her but his legs felt heavy and his body sluggish. He tried to push forward but the more he tried to run, the slower he became. It was like moving through thick mud.

From the other room, he heard the deep scary sound of their father's heels against the wooden floor as he approached.

Click. Click. Click.

Getting closer.

Click. Click.

He's coming for me… He won't spare me. I know.

He turned to run away but the walls stretched endlessly as the hallway darkened, swallowing him whole.

Click.

A hand closed around his wrist.

He screamed—

******

Demon woke up with a start. His body was slick with sweat. His heart hammered against his ribs as he tried to calm himself.

He talked to himself in a calm voice that was barely audible repeating words that had become a mantra to him.

Then he heard it. It was an unfamiliar sound.

Knocking.

Someone was at his door. His entire body tensed. No one ever came here. He wasn't used to hearing his door getting knocked.

He slid out of bed silently and moved toward the bathroom. He pressed a hidden button beneath the sink and with a soft mechanical whir a wooden floor slid over the gaping hole. It blended with the rest of the room. He pulled a rug over it to mask the scent and the whispers.

The knocking came again. Who could it be?

Demon exhaled and walked to the door. He kept his expression neutral before he opened the door.

Chika stood on the other side with his arms crossed. He grinned when he saw Demon.

"Ah, my best tenant," Chika greeted. "Always on time with rent, never any complaints. If only the others were as responsible." He said in a strange Nigerian accent.

Demon leaned against the doorframe. His patience was already wearing thin. "What do you want?"

Chika tsked. "No hospitality, eh? I come with good news. I am thinking of renovating your place, you know, fixing it up a bit. The smell is…" He wrinkled his nose. "Not great."

Demon's fingers twitched but his voice remained steady. "I like it the way it is."

"Ah, come on na," Chika chuckled. "I'll even throw in new flooring, maybe something brighter. Your place is so dark. Feels like I'm stepping into a coffin every time I come to collect rent."

Demon's jaw tightened. "I said no renovations, Mr. Chika."

Chika sighed as he shook his head. "Fine, fine. You're stubborn just like the tortoise."

Demon raised an eyebrow. "The tortoise?"

Chika grinned. "In my homeland, Nigeria, there's an old story about the tortoise and the lion. The lion was the strongest but the tortoise was the smartest. The lion boasted that no one could outwit him. So the tortoise being a clever one tricked the lion into trapping himself in a pit," he laughed, poking Demon with his elbow, "The moral? Strength is nothing without wit."

Demon smirked. "Sounds about right."

Chika laughed as he patted the doorframe. "You remind me of the tortoise."

Demon's smirk faded slightly but he said nothing. Chika finally turned to leave and Demon shut the door behind him.

******

A Few Hours Later…

The gym was half-empty. He could hear low conversations filling the space. Demon worked through his routine with a quiet deadly calm. His mind was already on the next phase of his mission.

Jackson lounged nearby watching with a smirk. "You're already in perfect shape. What are you trying to prove?"

Demon didn't answer.

As he moved to the pull-up bar he felt someone approaching. He turned his head slightly but was assaulted by the scent of strong perfume before he saw her.

Al's wife.

She was in her late forties but carried herself like she was still in her twenties. Her dark eyes roamed over him and her lips curled into a playful smile. She was an agent of sin and lust.

"Didn't expect to see you here," she purred, stepping too close.

Demon sighed inwardly. He had hoped to get through his routine without being stalked by a cougar.

She placed a manicured hand on his arm. "You work out a lot. I like that."

Demon gave a low hum.

She leaned in and spoke in a whisper. "I've got a free hour. Maybe we could have some fun in the restroom?"

Demon turned to her with his expression blank. "Not interested."

She blinked, caught off guard by his rejection. "Oh, come on. Don't be shy. I—"

"No," he said flatly.

The irritation on her face was evident but it was soon replaced by a forced smile. "Your loss."

She turned and walked away swaying her hips.

Jackson whistled. "Her loss. She wanted you bad."

Demon rolled his eyes. "She's married."

Jackson smirked. "Since when do you care about morals?"

Demon didn't answer.

Jackson stepped closer and spoke in a low voice. "You're wound tight. I can help with that."

Demon exhaled but his pulse quickened. He let Jackson pull him toward the restroom.

It had been a while since they had sex. He wanted to put his dick in Jackson and have him beg for more. Fucking Jackson felt like he was walking barefooted in paradise and he wanted that feeling now more than anything.

Later that evening as Demon moved through the streets he kept his senses sharp.

He needed to find his next target. Someone worthy. A sinner.

The city was alive with filth. The streets echoed with corruption. It was all masked by neon signs and empty smiles. He watched them move about without seeing the predator in their midst. The guilty and the damned; they were all blissfully unaware.

Then he saw her.

Maria!

His breath caught and his stomach dropped. No. It wasn't possible. What was she doing in Carlyville? The last time he heard she had moved to Europe.

But she was right there, walking past him. He looked at her silky blonde hair as it caught the dim glow of the streetlights.

Demon's hands clenched. His heart pounded.

He followed her with his movements carefully and calculatedly. He needed to see her face. Needed to know. Needed to be sure.

She turned a corner.

He moved faster.

Then just as he reached her she turned as if she could feel him behind her and it wasn't Maria.

It was a stranger.

His body went rigid and he felt hot irritation surging through him.

Damn it. He had almost made a foolish mistake.

He was about to turn away when he felt it. The cold press of steel against his ribs. He knew what it was.

A gun.

A firm hand gripped his arm as the assailant held him in place.

A voice whispered against his ear.

"Be smart, buddy. Don't move."