Losing The Light

Chapter 8

Don't forget y'all, this is a corruption arc story so the two main characters playact dubious and non consent. They ARE consenting adults, so please don't be distressed, I hope I made it clear enough in the text. This chapter is followed by chapter 9 immediately so I'm posting them both today.

Being back at Dominion that night when it was pulsing with music and full of humans was just as overwhelming as the first time. Rane breathed in through his nose, full and slow, inhaling the scent of the sex and sweat and heat. He liked the smell and the way it felt spicy in his lungs. But altogether with the lights and the crowd, his senses felt a little overstimulated, leaving him on edge and uncomfortable.

Lukys was down on the first floor, hanging back by the bar. Rane was on the second floor balcony, looking over the dance floor to stare at the entrance. They'd been there for a couple hours already, switching places occasionally, or sometimes one of them would go to the rooftop bar and look out over the street, but so far nothing had happened.

Azmael, strangely enough, wasn't pestering either of them. He'd greeted them briefly before retreating into his basement, and Rane didn't like that. He wasn't sure why, but he preferred knowing where Azmael was at all times. What he was doing. Who he was with.

Because you lust after him, you sick fuck. His conscience hissed.

It was suspicious, at the very least.

Rane glanced at Lukys. The nephilim looked patient and put together, which was not at all how Rane felt. The longer he was stuck in this space with all these people, with the strange and cloying energy that filled the club, the more he felt like he needed some air.

The elevator made soft dings as it moved, and - like every single time it dinged in the hours they'd been there - Rane's eyes jumped to it. But, unlike every other time, Rane wasn't disappointed. The floor display read 'B', which Rane assumed meant basement.

He reached up to his ear and pressed down on the little button on the piece he wore snugly inside. "He's coming up."

Lukys glanced up at him from below. He put his finger on his ear to talk back. "Understood. Be careful."

They nodded at each other. Rane pulled his earpiece out and put it in his pocket so the devil wouldn't notice it, then stepped back from the balcony and waited.

After Azmael had disappeared on them so suspiciously, Lukys was convinced the Devil was hiding something down below. Their plan was to divide and conquer. Lukys would try to find a way downstairs, while Rane... well, Rane was tasked with making sure the Devil didn't notice. And if he could discretely question him at the same time, wonderful. Although, without the handy lie-detector ability, Rane thought maybe Lukys would be more qualified for that part.

'He won't be distracted by me' was Lukys's argument. 'You can keep his attention. I can't.'

Rane couldn't argue with that. And, since Azmael had invited them into the club, as long as Lukys didn't break into anything, they weren't doing anything illegal by snooping.

The elevator dinged up to the second floor and opened, and Rane wondered how Azmael knew he was on that floor... or if maybe it was just a coincidence. Either way, the Devil was smirking at Rane as he strolled closer. He was wearing a new outfit, all silky jewel colors and suave lines and sensual movement that was decidedly feminine and yet somehow accentuated how masculine Azmael was. Rane wanted to rip it off him... which was an unnerving desire.

Maybe the Devil is making me feel that way.

"Any cult-leading Devils show up, yet?" he asked teasingly.