I looked away, trying to decide what I might have done. I realized the Uber driver was still parked in his van, staring at all of us as his shoulder spasmed oddly.

  I tapped Bar on the shoulder. “I think that man might be having a seizure!”

  Bar and Parker turned to look at the driver.

  “It’s illegal to jerk off in public, you fuckwad!” Parker shouted, causing people on the street to turn and look at the man in the van, who started up the engine, flipped Parker off, and then drove away.

  So, I guess it wasn’t a seizure then. The driver’s body had been working just fine. I sighed. Yet another thing in this stupid world I didn’t get.

  I almost asked what jerking off was, but Parker ended up saying, “I can’t believe he was stroking his dick in public.”

  Oh. Well, that explained the somewhat pained look on the guy’s face then. Mating and seizure faces did look a lot alike. At least they did in the handbooks I’d studied.

  Bar hustled me inside, arms around me. “I’m so sorry, Ruby. I’m so sorry.”

  “Why?” I asked him. He looked so upset. I could tell whatever the driver had done bothered him.

  “Because you shouldn’t be exposed to assholes like that.”

  “People who perform mating rituals in public?” I asked as Bar led me to their leather couch and Migs handed me a glass of red wine. Their place was nice—clean, full of leather. They even had a brown rug on their wooden floor. Of course, it wasn’t as soft as my rug. But their human feet probably weren’t as sensitive to the stupid ground as mine.

  I studied Bar’s furrowed brow as I asked, “But, didn’t we do the same thing earlier today? A mating ritual in the alley?” My stomach tightened as I remembered it, and a delicious shiver traveled down my spine. Remembering the feel of their mouths and hands on me shot sparks through my body. Thinking about it made me wish it was happening all over again. I wriggled on the couch, pressing my knees together. As my thighs touched, I realized that my panties were damp.

  Bar sat down on one side of me. Migs sat on the other. I looked back and forth between them as they smiled at me. I swallowed hard, anticipation building in my stomach like steam until I wanted to scream. I felt desperate for them to touch me. But they didn’t.

  Parker closed the apartment door and locked it, before coming to stand behind me. His hand drifted over the back of my neck before Bar’s glare had him pulling away.

  “Yes, and I want to apologize for what happened in the alley,” Bar said softly. “We should never have taken things that far. You deserve better. So much better.”

  My stomach fell, and all the naughty mating visions I’d had in my head dissolved. “What’s better than mating?” I asked, honestly confused. I thought mating was the ultimate human expression of connection.

  Bar swallowed hard next to me.

  Parker took a seat in a leather armchair near us as he said, “Nothing is better than mating. Especially with your soulmate.” He put a lot of emphasis on that last word before he leaned over to the glass coffee table, grabbed the bottle of wine that Migs had set down there, and took a swig.

  If nothing was better than mating, then why didn’t they want to mate with me? Didn’t they call me their soulmate? It had mate in the word. Didn’t that mean we were supposed to mate? Did they not want me? Did they wish Amethyst hadn’t given me this little bit of soul?

  My heart snapped like a broken harp string. It hurt. Deep inside it hurt to know my mates rejected me. And then I realized, they might not just reject me, they might resent me.

  I turned to Migs. “I’m so sorry I took your soul without asking.” My hands reached for his and I clasped them, pleading for forgiveness. “I don’t know of a way to give it back.”

  Migs took one of my hands and kissed the back, saying softly, “Corazón, I don’t want it back. I love our connection. We all do.”

  Bar huffed at that.

  Migs glared at his friend before reaching out to stroke my hair. “Barrister isn’t saying he doesn’t want to mate. He wants to. We all want to—”

  Barrister groaned and his hand slid to my thigh, squeezing it possessively at Miguel’s words.

  Migs gave Bar a hard stare and the other man’s hands retreated.

  “But if you want to, then why aren’t we?” I wasn’t certain what lying felt like. But it didn’t seem possible that they could be telling the truth. “My body wants you guys.” I placed Migs hand over my breast so he could feel how fast my heart was beating, how hard my nipple had grown. If their bodies felt the same things; if they had the same mating instincts, how could they resist? Unless they were lying.

  Migs groaned as he pulled his hand away from my breast, leaving it aching for his touch.

  Barrister spoke and I turned to look at him. “We want to ensure you know you’re respected, well-treated, liked for the person you are and not just this amazing body—” His eyes traveled down my figure in a way that left no doubt he was feeling the urge to mate, too. His dick was hard, the outline clearly visible through his pants.

  He did want to mate. I glanced at Migs and Parker, whose shafts were also thick and ready. They all wanted to mate if their dicks were any indication.

  But, perhaps in this realm, the men needed more of a mating dance to convince them to move forward? Maybe the alleyway had been too rushed? Maybe they needed reassurance or proof that I would be a good mate? Maybe they were like the males in the avian community in the Cartwheel galaxy who only mated with a female after she built them a nest. But they already had a nest. Ugh. I needed some kind of directions! The problem was that I didn’t trust Harmony’s Guide anymore. I had no clue what kind of mating dance these guys would want me to do. Fucking shooting stars! This was frustrating. But I wanted to mate with them. My body and soul demanded it. I’d have to swallow my pride and ask what kind of pre-mating requirements they had.

  “If you aren’t ready to mate, what do you want to do?” My eyes traveled over each one of them.

  Bar cleared his throat, his neck going a bit red as he asked, “Have you ever heard of Call of Duty?”

  Chapter 12

  Parker

  It took her an hour to learn the controls, but Ruby fucking annihilated us after that. She was amazing, a goddess of death. And the righteous fury that shone in her eyes as she wore a headset and screamed, “Die you hellspawn! Die!” was so goddamned hot. I had to go to the bathroom to jerk off more than once.

  At ten, we all walked Ruby back to her apartment above The Perfect Fit. Those gorgeous wings of hers came out and Migs had his hands all over them, complimenting their softness. I ached to stroke them, but I resisted until she gave each one of us a goodnight kiss. When I got mine, I let a finger trail over her wings as my tongue plundered her mouth. Migs was right, her wings were soft. But they also seemed to be an erogenous zone. I trailed my fingers over them, teasing her until I heard a little moan.

  When I pulled back, her hooded eyes and dark breathing nearly made me push her inside.

  Until the door swung open behind her and the blonde witch who’d chased me down the street from coffee shop said, “Ruby, what the fuck! I’ve been searching everywhere for you. I finally gave up and used my key!”

  Ohh, she was pissed.

  Ruby didn’t seem too perturbed though because she just said, “Amethyst, hi. Meet my soulmates.”

  Amethyst shook her head and grabbed Ruby’s hand, shoving a scroll into it.

  Ruby unrolled it. “What’s this?”

  Amethyst responded, “I dunno. It just fell on my head.”

  Ruby unrolled the scroll. “Oh! It’s that boob reduction, I applied for! They’ve granted—”

  I yanked that scroll out of her hand and threw it as far as I could. I wished at that moment that I was a fire demon and I could have lit that shit paper on fire. “You do not need a boob reduction.”

  Ruby’s eyebrows flew up. “I don’t?”

  Migs and Bar backed me up, adamantly shaking their heads. If Amethyst hadn’t been there, I might have backed Ruby up against the wall and showed her how hot her breasts were.

  “But I fall. All the time,” Ruby argued, twisting a lock of that gorgeous dark brown hair around her finger. “My balance is horrible.”

  “Did you fall at all tonight?” I asked.

  “Well … no.”

  “We won’t let you fall, Ruby,” Bar promised.

  Amethyst cleared her throat. “Alright, strangers. Well, I think it’s time you two and kidnapper over there—” she pointed at me, “head on home.”

  It was safe to say I’d made a pretty bad impression on her.

  “We’ll be back in the morning, beautiful,” Bar said. “We’ll go to the other thrift shops on the list. It’s Saturday, they’ll be open early.”

  Ruby nodded, one of her cute, over-enthusiastic, made-me-want-to-squeeze-the-shit-out-of-her smiles lighting up her face. I clamped my hands and shoved them into my jacket pockets. I doubted Amethyst would appreciate if I grabbed Ruby right now and repeated this morning’s performance, even if every part of me just wanted to grab my soulmate and take her away.

  I blew out a deep breath and yanked on the guys. We needed to go home. And we needed to talk.

  Because Ruby was here.

  Our soulmate was fucking here. We’d found her. This was happening. She was happening.

  To all of us.

  We were only two steps into the apartment when Migs said, “We’re fucked.”

  He went and got three shot glasses. And the three of us each took shots of tequila until we were drunk enough to have an honest conversation about feelings and shit.

  Migs slammed his shot glass down onto our countertop so hard that the glass chipped. “Fuck,” he tossed it in the trash as he said, “We have to find a way to share.”

  Bar shook his head. “That would be like cheating.” And he walked off to his room without another word.

  “Does that mean he’s out?” Migs asked.

  “You’d know better than me.”

  Migs shook his head. “He’d back out because he thought it was honorable. He’d live miserable, just pining for her, if we let him.”

  I shrugged, helping myself to a swig from the bottle. “Well, go talk to him.”

  Migs shook his head. “You go talk to him.”

  “I’m more likely to piss him off!” I argued. And maybe get pissed in return and fry his laptop, which wouldn’t help matters.

  “You share a fucking soul, you conchudo.”

  “Pussy? Dude, that’s harsh.”

  Migs turned and walked to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. He yelled through it. “I gotta shit.”

  Fucker. He was probably lying. But his shits took hours. And Bar was ten minutes from sleep. The man couldn’t handle alcohol. Dammit all.

  I would have put it off, but that would mean it would take even longer to work shit out with Ruby. Which meant keeping my hands off her. And I didn’t want to do that.

  Fuck. I waved a hand, letting my horns and tail show. This conversation was gonna take all my concentration. There wouldn’t be any room left for magic. I ran a hand over my forehead and scratched the base of one of my horns. Just do it, Parker, I coached myself.

  I marched down the hall, threw open the door to Bar’s room and said, “She’s as much mine as she is yours. I mean, dude, why do you think I jumped at the chance to get a little bit of your soul?”

  Bar had changed into workout gear and was doing pushups when I came in. He stopped, sitting on the floor, and looked at me blandly. “Because you’re a demon.” Bar shook his head as if he were stating the obvious. Which he was. Kinda.

  “But why do demons want souls?” I prompted.

  “To get people to go to hell.”

  “That’s just bad press,” I waved an arm nonchalantly as I met my lie quota for the day. I typically tried to meet it by lying to strangers. A quick, “Oh, you look so good in that shirt!” or two. But we’d been together all day, so I hadn’t had a chance to get out and hit those quotas. And to fly under the radar, I had to meet some.

  I cleared my throat. The next words out of my mouth weren’t a lie. They were pure truth. “Demons want souls—and angels are strictly forbidden from getting them—because the soul is a little piece of divinity. It’s shredded and divided between two or more people and the connection when they find one another … it’s the most profound experience that exists.”

  Bar’s eyebrows lowered as he studied me. He got up and grabbed an orange nerf ball from a basket on his desk. He tossed it at my chest. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

  I caught the ball and tossed it back at him with a gentle arc. “Don’t you feel that connection with Ruby?”

  Bar stared at the ball and nodded.

  And then the drunk part of me took over. I was glad, but also mortified when it said, “Trust me when I say that I’ve existed for nearly a millenium. There’s nothing better than what I feel right now.”

  Bar’s head went from side to side as if he partially agreed with my words. “That part I can believe— But taking my soul—that’s bullshit. You’re recruiting for the dark side, Vadar.”

  Shit. I could feel the tic mark I’d gotten for the lie get erased inside my head, where the demonic tally system was implanted. “Fine. Fucker. That shirt makes you look like a preschooler.” Bar’s shirt actually showed off his sculpted torso. The lie quota in my head got scratched off again as I threw the nerf ball and it bounced off the side of Bar’s head.

  “Your dick looks like a preschooler’s,” Bar retorted, going to the pull-up bar he’d installed on his walk-in closet door.

  “Glad to hear you’ve been staring at it,” I winked.

  He laughed, dropping from the bar. “Get out of my room, fucker.” He pointed.

  “In a sec,” I leaned against the door, heart pounding as I pressed for what I wanted. Stupid alcohol. Making me desperate and shit. Was it the alcohol? Or just Ruby? “I need to hear you say it first. You’ve been kind of a dick about it. And I get it. Puritanical monogamy culture and all that. But I need to hear you say that you’re cool with sharing Ruby. Because this connection is all of us, man.”

  Bar’s face scrunched up tight. I knew that the shit that went down with Darlene had hit him hard. The idea of sharing wasn’t natural to him. But the idea that the girl would pick someone else … maybe that’s the part of him I needed to reassure.

  I tilted my head to the side and said, “You know she won’t choose any of us. Right? She’d never force any of us or pick one over the other. She’s a fucking angel, dude. She won’t have a favorite. It would rip her bit of soul up to hurt us.”

  Bar chewed his lip and turned away. He popped back up on the bar, facing away from me as he did a set of twenty pull ups.

  I waited, unmoving. Inside, I was a coiled spring. I was full of tension and ready to pop. But outside, I was calm. Because Bar didn’t need to feel attacked or pressured. I needed him to truly, honestly be good with this. I didn’t lie to myself. Stealing Ruby would appeal to that dark part of me. But sharing her—the idea of that made my heart and dick swell to the size of goddamned blimps. That was fucking better.

  But maybe he was okay with sharing her with Migs. Maybe it was me he had a problem with. I mean, he and Migs were tight. Migs probably would have gotten him on board with sharing Ruby in two seconds flat. So why hadn’t he come in here? Why’d he send me? Unless I was the problem. Unless the problem was sharing Ruby with me. Tainting her with me.

  It felt like someone had taken a can opener to my heart and just cut out a big jagged circle.

  Fuck. That was it. I’m the problem.

  I pictured Ruby’s face. Those dark curls and eyes just begging to be taught what naughty was. Her soft lips. That angry look she got. How sweet her laugh was when she’d rocked Call of Duty and high-fived us all. She was a damn angel. How could I force her or the guys to be contaminated by me? Not for the first time, I fucking hated my own existence. I’d thought that I wanted to burn up and drift away like ash on the wind when I’d helped the Yaarkin destroy the planet Alza. But now, I wished I’d never even existed. It would be better than giving Ruby up.

  But that’s what you have to do, dickwad, I told myself as Bar finished his reps and turned to face me.

  His expression was serious. So, I spoke before he could.

  “You can have your soul back if I’m the problem. I don’t want to do anything that would get in the way of her happiness.” Fuck me. Saying that hurt. It fucking literally set my nerve endings on fire. I could feel all the tic marks in my head, all the quotas I’d met that day, get erased. My boss’s round, red face appeared behind my eyes, his horns were flaming which meant he was ready to rage at me—but somehow, a white veil descended between us. And I couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t see him. The burning in my limbs subsided. But the nervous energy didn’t. I still felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for Bar to push me over.

  Bar’s face was shocked. His jaw hung so low I thought it might have disconnected.

  I waited, hands curling into fists, heart thrumming.

  He opened his mouth and I prepared myself to run. Out the door, out of this town, around the world. I’d need to get away after.

  But Bar shocked me when he said, “If you’d do that for her, then you deserve her too, man.”

  The air left my lungs and stupid fucking tears filled my eyes. “What?”

  “You’re right,” Bar said. “She’s not some normal girl. She’s our soulmate.”

  Dammit all to hell if my insides didn’t feel like the end of one of those Hallmark movies. All pure and joyful and shit. This couldn’t be happening. I was a demon. Good things couldn’t happen to me. By their very definition, good things couldn’t happen.

  But Bar came forward and slung an arm across my shoulders. He gave me a bro nod, the kind he usually only gave to Migs. Fuck.

 

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