Demons (Damirae)

Chapter Eighty-One

Adyn watched the boy dash back out of the door with his eyes the size of saucers and his heart beating a frantic rhythm. A hand on the demon's chest, Aleil could feel its pace matching his own and muttered in to Adyn's ear, "That was close."

The demon took a few breaths, "It certainly was."

Taking a step back, Aleil's pale eyebrows drew closer together and he asked, "Do you know him? He seemed to recognise you."

Adyn frowned, trying to sort his way through a mind foggy with alarm. The person (a boy, looked in his teens, dark hair and light complexion) had stayed only a few seconds, staring dumbfound, and Adyn hadn't been able to study him; he had sensed something, something ancient under the surface, Adyn didn't exactly know what. That was a little familiar, but Adyn couldn't place it.

He shook his head, "Not at all.", and didn't mention the boy's aura- it was best not to get paranoid, they were already treading carefully enough.

If word were to get out to Aleil's colleagues or superiors that he was sneaking around with a demon, he could be ostracised and fired (even attacked). The shaky peace between Lights and Darks would not permit such blatant ignorance of the unspoken rules.

Adyn was Dark- a demon.
Aleil's was Light- a half-fae, half-angel.

It wasn't love between them. Not slightly. But even that purely carnal lust they shared would be a disgrace.

Adyn pushed that to the back of his mind, pushed thoughts of the intruder to the back of his mind, and pulled Aleil's lips to his own, hard and wanting. They could worry about that all later, for now, all Adyn needed to think about, and all Aleil needed to care about, was the fire that left hair tousled, necks bruised and lips swollen.

***

Raven handed Damian a plate, a slab of chocolate cake sitting in the middle and a fork on the side. He accepted it and began to shovel chunks in to his mouth, ferociously hungry after going through the entire gala with no more than a few appetisers to keep him going. The demoness stood besides him, holding her own plate- the both of them leaning against the wall- and Damian looked at her from her corner of his eye. He stopped chewing and set the fork down. She did the same.

"What is it?", Raven asked, frowning mildly concerned at Damian's change in attitude.

His eyes travelled around the room, landing on Clark Kent. Superman had super hearing. Great. Knowing that Raven was adverse in many of Earth's languages, Damian replied, "هو تستطيع ان يسمعنا.(he can hear us)".

Aware of what Damian was inferring,  but a little taken off guard, Raven replied in the same formal Arabic (unlike the spoken, dialectical Arabic she reckoned Damian would be mor comfortable speaking in)
اعرف ، يلله ما المشكلة؟" (I know, come on, what's the problem?)

Damian was pleasantly surprised at her response- he'd taken a gamble, not knowing whether she could speak and understand Arabic or not- and her accent: then again, English wasn't even her first language either.
"اعتقد ان يجب ان نخبار ابي عننا، ما رايك؟"
(I think we must tell my father about us, what do you think?)

That threw Raven off.
Sure, they knew that eventually they would have to tell the others they were together...but now? Raven wasn't even in the clear on where she stood with Mr Wayne, and telling him would mean that everyone found out: he would speak to Dick and Alfred about it; Dick would speak to everyone about it; and everyone would swamp them with questions.

Raven took a forkful of cake for thought, looking over at Damian's father, standing with Clark, Lois and Selina conversing. With worried eyes she looked at Damian, her irises tinting periwinkle blue. He noticed the change in hue and had to regulate his breathing because of how beautiful they'd become- as if they could have become any more celestial.