I remembered the flat above the club. Even with the haze of alcohol and lust blazing hot through my body, I remembered it with startling detail. It came back to me as I took it all in. The wine-colored sheets. How the hard floor felt under my feet.
Not incredibly large, but it told me more about Asmodeus than anything else ever could.
The flat lacked a kitchen, but I suppose they didn't need to eat anyways. Bookcases packed with old books. Artwork adorning the walls. Different than I expected. He seemed to favor greenery by the plants hanging in the window.
Still a mystery, but pieces were starting to fit together again. Who Asmodeus was. How he ticked. The energy was rampant between us. I could feel how his body thrummed, wanting desperately to touch me and feed himself.
But he woul
