#black angel/strike dear mistress

[ammonitetestpatterns]

fresco at villa dei misteri, pompeii.

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter Five

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

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Author note: Dear Hoteliers, This was my first attempt at smut (I giggled posting this, I am so excited!). I am new, but any advice is welcome! I tried something different with formatting (you'll see when you get there). I didn't want anything to be spoiled while ya'll rode the emotional rollercoaster that is this chapter. Let me know if it was weird and didn't work (or if it did that would be great!). I also added a link to the music found in a later part of this chapter in case you wanted to listen while you read.

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Five - Night's Mistress

Content Warning: Blood, Blood Play, Murder, Choking, Graphic Sexual Scenes Involving Violence, Smut, MINORS DNI! (let me know if I missed anything else!)

The pull behind your navel felt foreign. 

It didn’t come with the taste of honey or the scent of daffodils like Rosie’s summons normally did. It didn’t come with a hint of sass or flood your mouth with spice like Carmilla’s. Crimson’s tasted of red pepper flakes and copper - a disgusting combination - but he was no longer an issue. 

This pull, however, was new and terribly, terribly… boring. 

Has one of your cards fallen to a rogue with sticky fingers? Has one of your holders died and a new holder taken their place? 

Whomever it was, the pull made you pause atop your perch overlooking V Tower. With Vox’s new Angelic Security soon to be released, you didn’t know how close you could get to the media demon’s headquarters. So you sat a few buildings away, scanning the horizon for any newfound technology that might impede your nighttime endeavors. 

There was another tug. 

Jesus, impatient much? 

You stood, stretching the stiffness from your legs. It was late, you’ve been out here for hours watching absolutely nothing happen. All the Vees like to do is sit, drink, and talk shit. Seriously what did they get out of their friendship? Was it friendship? Or were they all fucking? Ugh, you did not want that picture in your head.

Okay, time to go. 

You jumped, allowing the smoke to envelop your form. Feeling the pull, you headed toward the inner part of the city. Circling Heaven’s Clocktower, you broke off back toward the Magne District - the district that held the Hotel. Except you weren’t headed for your new home. The pull brought you left, almost to the border town but not quite, to an old tower.

In a plume of smoke, you landed on a balcony, the black swirls twirling about the landing before pooling over the sides. You were probably twenty stories up, the tallest building around. Not nearly as tall as V Tower - which the balcony gave you a great view of - but still, Pentagram City was striking. 

The balcony was connected to an apartment, reachable to the world only by an elevator at its center. Behind you was a wall of glass, heavy curtains preventing you from peering inside. On the balcony sat a small table, framed by two iron chairs. The setup was empty, except for your card which sat atop the table, a single drop of blood at its center. 

You took a step, your feet finding a puddle of red before you finally noticed the body. It was face down, scarlett flooding from a wound which wasn’t visible to you. It didn’t appear to be anyone you knew. Definitely a Human Sinner, but not one particularly interesting. 

So who in Hell summoned you? 

As if on cue, a zip of static runs across the back of your neck. 

Of-fucking-course…

“Ah, there you are,” Alastor emerges from the darkened apartment, shutting the door behind him with a kick of his heel, a smooth jazz playing on his radio.

Your heart skips a beat as his eyes find yours. Half-lidded, he smirks, a bottle of wine in one hand and a pair of glasses in another. 

Your eyes flit between the dead Sinner on the floor and the red demon before you. “You did not use your own blood?" This was a first. Cardholders always used their own blood. Although not directly stated, it was implied. 

“Heavens, no!” The demon places the glasses on the table, next to the obsidian calling card, as he uncorks the bottle using the tip of his claw. “We barely know each other. That would be too…” His eyes slid to yours. You feel his gaze rake over your form eliciting a blush beneath your cloak. “Intimate.” 

Jesus. 

You stifle a sharp intake of breath. 

Get your shit together. You’re a fucking Overlord for Christ’s sake. 

You drop his gaze, eyeing the half-dead pile of blood beneath your feet. 

“Ah, apologies for the mess,” Alastor snaps and the Sinner, along with the blood, disappears. “Wine?” The red demon holds a glass out to you, liquid sloshing in its basin. 

You look at your boots before moving, noticing he even wiped the blood from their leather. How thoughtful. 

Goblet in hand, you finally join the Radio Demon in the chair adjacent to his, and gaze out to the City. 

It was quiet, the hustle of Pentagram City’s nightlife drowned out by his jazz. Funny, you thought it almost peaceful. Could Hell be peaceful? No. That would be an oxymoron. Hell was designed not to be peaceful by definition. Yet all the way up here, tucked far back from the rest of the chaos, you could pretend it was. 

The demon sits back in his chair, crossing his legs at his knees. You hadn’t noticed it before, but his shoes have a print on the bottom - a deer’s hoof. How fitting. 

The obsidian calling card sits between you, a drop of scarlet crusting on its surface. Letters in white slowly fade from the card’s edge, signifying the death of the card owner. Whoever the Hell Stanley Jenkins was, Alastor had killed him and used his blood instead. Smart actually, for the card comes with its own parameters…

And to the Sinners without a card? That was a bit trickier. Only a handful of obsidian calling cards were in circulation, and only cardholders could summon you at will. To the lower rung demons without the honor, they had to go through back channels. That’s what you used Rosie for. The Cannibal Queen knew all the best gossip in town, her network of information reached every edge of the Pentagram. She was your starting point for potential hits - you took care of the rest. 

“A toast,” Alastor holds his glass out to you. “To power and chaos.” 

You freeze.

The demon clinks his glass with yours.

You had not heard that phrase in a very long time. 

You look to the Radio Demon and watch as he sips his wine, the red liquid kissing his lips as he drinks.  

More importantly, where had he heard that phrase? 

And then it clicks. 

Lilith. You last heard that from Lilith. 

“It isn’t poisoned. I assure you,” Alastor purrs, bringing your thoughts back to the wine. “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.” The demon chuckles.

You shudder at the sudden static vibrating through your bones. 

You put a pin in this conversation - a mental note. You had more homework to do. 

You swirl the red around the glass, noting the alcohol crystals sticking to the sides. It was an older wine, a heavier red by the color. The liquid wooed you in scents of dark berry, cloves, and cedar. You could taste the tannins on your tongue before the liquid even hit your teeth. God, was it a thick red, so dry it left your mouth parched for more. Alastor couldn’t see your face beneath the hood, but if he could, he would see the moan you stifled behind closed lips. 

God, it was almost Heavenly. 

“One of my more everyday favorites,” Alastor smiled at the world below, his eyes sparkling with the reflection of City lights. “Although, I have far better in my cellar.” 

In my cellar. Your ears perked up at that, although you tried to hide it, the twitch of Alastor’s lips told you he had noticed. The Radio Demon knew something about you now: you liked wine. 

Was that what this meeting was all about? He wanted to gather more information on the Shadow? The way he made it seem at Carmilla’s was that there was a deal to be made. He thought you two could benefit from some sort of… partnership. Yet, you sit here and drink. 

This wasn’t how your deals often went. Usually, you showed up, and Sinners demanded action straight away. They practically begged you for your help, all too eager to make a deal. Lesser demons were pathetic, demons thinking themselves anything more attempted to look strong or intimidating, but the second they saw your eyes, they cowered. You’d like to think it the same as Zestial’s situation but you didn’t dare compare yourself to someone as great as him. 

Alastor, however, sat before you as an entertainer, a flatterer, a narcissist obsessed with his image. He didn’t just want to make a deal with you - if he did at all - he wanted to put on a show. Offering you a drink and a lovely view of the City communicated to you that he didn’t see you as a threat, but you already knew that. The question then was, did he respect you, and why did it bother you so much not to know? 

You turned the bottle to read the label: Stag’s Leap. How fitting. 

“Have you read the Allegory of the Cave*?” Alastor posits. 

You nod. Of course, who hasn’t read Plato? 

“When the man leaves the cave and makes it to the surface and is finally disenchanted with the shadows below, why do you suppose he returns?” Alastor takes another sip, waiting for you to answer, because he genuinely cares as to what you have to say. 

“To free the two he left behind,” your voice growls. 

“Hmm,” he ponders. “I supposed that as well, but never understood. To have the power of knowledge and to then share it… To not take advantage when it benefited him so. I see it as a tragedy.”

“Perhaps it is the Humanity in all of us.”

Alastor’s eyes flashed. “And if there is no Humanity left?” 

“Return…” Your lips curled, “and kill the other two.” 

Alastor tipped his head back and laughed, a deep chuckle from his chest. No laugh track followed. Was that genuine? A real laugh from Alastor and not the façade of the Radio Demon. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest at the thought. 

Focus! 

“Alastor, why have you summoned me?” 

The Radio Demon’s lips faltered ever so slightly, his cheery attitude hardening. He thought a long moment before answering. “It seems we have found ourselves in quite the predicament.” He places the glass on the table and folds his fingers in his lap, his attention on the City below. Your eyes follow his, all the way to V Tower. 

Ah, yes Velvette and Vox. 

“Velvette can be quite the troublemaker.” 

“And Vox can be quite the thorn.” You counter, taking another sip. 

God, the wine was so good. 

“I have… information worth your while.” His teeth shined. 

“And in return?” 

“A quid-pro-quo. I have been gone a long time, but my relationships with those I am… close with have held strong. That is the perk of being as old as I am. I am tried and true. You are new blood, officially worth a seat at the table. That seat will be tested.” There was an edge to his words now. “Do not take Velvette’s silence for inaction.”

You did not. 

Yet, what could Alastor know that you have not yet uncovered yourself? After all, you have been watching them these past few days. Surely something would have come up by now. 

You scoffed, finding the underlying meaning in his words. “Is that what happened with Vox?” 

The Radio Demon stiffened. There it was, a hint of that barely contained anger. Oh, how you would love to see it unleashed.

You sniffed, searching for the scent of rage, of jasmine green tea - the main reason why you loved the drink. Yet there was nothing. Irritation prickled your skin. You have never been able to not read someone before. What made this Sinner so special? 

“That is what you want from this… partnership, is it not?” You prod, hoping he will give away something, anything that might clue you in as to why you are here. 

The demon returned to his wine, a muscle in his jaw flickering with agitation. He didn’t like appearing weak. 

Narcissist. 

“The plans I have in mind are far bigger than that poor excuse for an entertainment system.” 

You snorted. 

Alastor’s strained smile softened. 

Hmm, a quid-pro-quo, huh? Still, he hasn’t said what he wants out of this deal. 

You took another sip to think, noting your glass was already empty. 

The Radio Demon cleared his throat, wine bottle in hand, gesturing for your cup. His fingers brushed yours as you handed him the glass, sending a wave of static through to your core. You pulled back too fast, bringing your arm to your chest. The demon’s eyes gleamed in amusement. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! You are not afraid of the Radio Demon, so why were you acting like an idiot? Never let your weaknesses show and you just gave him a clear indication that he intimidated you. You are a FUCKING OVERLORD. 

Why was this not easier with a mask on??? At the Hotel, you didn’t back down, but still, you let him think less of you. Not here. Here you are the fucking Shadow, you didn’t have to pretend. You had no reason to be so nervous. 

So why was the smile on his face and the look in his half-lidded eyes making your heart do backflips in your chest? Why was it when he handed the glass back you were conscious to not let your fingers touch his? Why were you so grateful for the space between you two yet also so, so irritated by it? 

“You still have not told me what you seek to gain.” You prayed your voice didn't sound as unnerved as you felt. 

His smile went cockeyed. “A mutual agreement. We stay out of each other’s way, yet seek out the other when we can benefit equally.” 

That didn’t sound like a partnership. That sounded like an alliance. Is this the same type of deal he had with Rosie? Interestingly, they seemed more like friends than something so surface-level as an alliance. Perhaps it started out that way and blossomed into one? 

The butterflies in your stomach kicked up in a flurry. The Radio Demon thought you were worth his time. Your cheeks heated. He thought you could help him - in some sort of capacity. God, why did that make you wanna squeal like a small child? 

“I will not be signing a contract,” you warned. 

Rosie informed you of Alastor’s contract crafting abilities. The demon was meticulous, bordering on obsessive when it came to exacting details. Line-by-line he would work and when it was finally done, the deal would appear flattering in what it would have to offer. Somehow, Alastor always made it seem like it was you who was the one to benefit. Yet, that was never the case. It was a trap, a beautifully disguised ploy which demoted you to a creature privy to his whim. Alastor was a master and the signee his pet - he would have it no other way. 

You’d die before you signed anything he authored. 

The demon laughed. Yet, underneath, there was a hint of irritation. “Oh, no. I did not expect that, I assure you. Ours will be one of a verbal agreement.” 

You let that marinate. He won’t be getting your name, but an agreement will still be made, and in Hell, that was a very powerful thing indeed. You’ve made plenty of verbal agreements before. Fuck, every hit you contracted was a verbal agreement - silence and the contractee’s soul in exchange for murder. The terms you set were quite simple, actually, yet strong enough to have kept any hint, any suspicion of who you are and how to find you, out of the mouths of Pentagram City’s most powerful. Yes, the media did try to track you down, even attempted to hunt you at one point, but they haven’t gotten very far. And they never will if you had anything to do with it…

You took a sip, letting the flavors melt off your tongue one final time, before standing and offering a hand. 

The demon’s eyes lit up with a crimson fire, his lips curling at the edges. He looked far too eager for this deal and that made you hesitate. 

Dealing with Alastor was like dancing - a dance you both pretended not to be leading but also refused to be the follower in. It was a game of power, you see. Yes, dancing had its steps and rules - a waltz is a waltz after all - but the direction it was going, the added flare to the spins, the story the choreography told - that was where you battled. Thus, you needed to be a half-step ahead of Alastor at all times - without him knowing, of course - until either the dance ended or you found a way to end him. 

The Radio Demon took your hand, and as you gazed into his eyes, you watched his pupils dilate. The glow of your yellow irises reflected in their dark center, an aura of red encircling your hooded form. A river of blue and green exploded from where your hands touched, twirling about you like the eye of a beautifully destructive hurricane.

The wind whipped Alastor’s hair about his face, his smile never faltering, his eyes never leaving yours as a connection snapped between the two of you. Like a thin string bridging your souls, you could, for a moment, feel Alastor on the other end, feel his static radiating from his core before the connection faded entirely.  

It was done. 

“A pleasure,” he purred. 

You attempted to step back and break away from his grasp, but the demon responded by clamping down and pulling you to him. You stumbled, your other hand coming to his chest to prevent your fall. The hood atop your head shifted back ever so slightly, but not enough to reveal your face or to give away anything underneath. 

The shadows engulfing your feet twirled and twirled about you, yet you remained frozen. Alastor was a solid wall of muscle beneath his suit; even with gloves on, you could feel the marble from which his chest was sculpted. You took a breath before you pulled your hand away before your brain finally caught up with the rest of you.

“Beautiful,” Alastor’s voice deepened. 

You dared a glance from beneath your hood and found the demon’s eyes locked on the silver embroidery of your cloak. With his other hand, he ghosted over the trim, his fingers tracing the hard edges of the stitching. Yet, at no point did he actually touch the black fabric. If he did, his fingers would phase through it, just as Velvette’s had at the meeting. 

Without saying anything, he dropped the grip on your fist, freeing you from his clutches. You stumbled backward, grasping your hood and pulling it forward to ensure it stayed in place. Alastor couldn’t remove it, but that little stunt he pulled almost ruined everything you had worked for. 

Your body grew cold as you backtracked to the railing, your little meeting coming to an end. You watched as Alastor’s grin turned into a lopsided smirk as he shoved his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly watching you flee.

Your instincts were screaming again, but this time, they were telling you not to let the demon out of your sight. 

Passing by the table, you noted the obsidian calling card. He would use it to summon you from here on out, but he would never be using his own blood. His real name would be made to you then, and he would never risk that. 

Take advantage of the power given, was what he recollected from Plato, and use it to slaughter others. 

“Velvette is using a third party to buy weapons from Carmilla Carmine,” the demon finally spoke, breaking the tension. He turned to the skyline, absentmindedly analyzing V Tower as he talked. “The female Vee, however, is not the fighter of the group, she leaves that to Vox and Valentino. Velvette destroys by reputation. She is not much to fear if armed, but if privy to certain information, she will use that to destroy her enemies.”

A.K.A do not let her find out who you are. 

You paused as your back hit the railing. You let your shadows build beneath your feet before you jumped in order to conceal your form as you flew. “Vox’s Angelic Security is in place but not online. It expands two blocks from V Tower. If anyone were to make a move, he would see it coming.” 

The Radio Demon nods. He pauses a moment before adding, “Carmilla killed the Angel.” 

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. How the Hell did he know that? 

“Carmilla is monitoring the Vees,” The words tumbled out of your mouth as you grabbed hold of the railing. “She doesn’t want them making a move against Heaven.” You needed to get away. This meeting was getting dangerous. Losing your cool and almost losing your hood in the span of minutes? You were never this sloppy. Alastor made you sloppy. 

“Interesting,” his voice stopped you again. 

You spun, raising an eyebrow in question. His lopsided smirk only grew. “You didn’t ask me how Carmilla killed the Angel.” 

Fuck. He knew. He knew you already knew. He didn’t have to look at you to see the surprise in your eyes, he had figured it out by your response alone. 

“Goodnight, Alastor,” you gave a shallow head bow before jumping off into the night, Alastor’s fucking grin following you into the sky. 

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It was late when you returned. You took a few extra spins about Pentagram City before heading back, trying to collect your thoughts on everything that had just happened. 

You had surmised two important things: One, Alastor’s absence wasn’t just about Lilith. The demon somehow knew Lilith. Perhaps it was because of her that he left in the first place. Which you already somewhat suspected, but this confirmed it. Two, Alastor wanted the Vees dealt with, but he knew he couldn’t do it alone. 

A quid-pro-quo in taking out the Vees. Now, things were getting interesting. This didn’t derail your plans, however, little Ms. Morningstar was still heading in the direction you needed her to go for everything to work. You didn’t need the Vees for the endgame - you had other powers in your back pocket with far more influence than the three of them. Plus, the connections you were making at the Hotel were going swimmingly. Soon, not yet, but soon, you’d implement the next phase. 

Oh, if only Father could see you now - wherever the Hell he was. Did he fall to Hell or was he somehow topside? No. You’d know if he was down here with you. You’d feel it in your bones. Wherever he ended up, you were going to find him and you were going to make him suffer for everything he put you through. 

You weren’t just going to kill him - oh, no. He didn’t deserve a quick and clean death. It was going to be slow and torturous. You were going to make him feel every ounce of the pain he put you through and more. You’d take your time, after all; why rush? Hours, days, months, years; what use was putting a timeline to his punishment when it would never make up for what he did? No. You’d take your time pushing him to the edge, and when he was on the cusp of eternal darkness, you’d heal him and start all over again.   

Perhaps you did have a flair for murder like the Radio Demon. Your creative outlets were just significantly more specific - lying in wait for the perfect muse. 

Wrapping your fingers around the edge of the window pane, you quietly slipped inside. With a snap, your leather gear and cloak slipped into the Void, replaced with a silk pajama set: a tank top and shorts bordering on just too short. Scandalous, but you enjoyed burying yourself beneath layers of blankets while you slept. Any more clothing and you’d wake up sweating. 

Going for the bathroom, you turned on the light and paused. In the reflection of your mirror, you saw it: a red box wrapped in black ribbon. Your heart skipped a beat. 

Someone had been in your room. 

Hesitantly, you made your way before the coffee table and found a card perched atop the neatly wrapped bow. 

You leaned in and sniffed the package - Nifty. You were going to have to touch base with the Hotel cleaning lady after breakfast. From day one, you had made it quite clear - to her great disappointment - not to clean your room, let alone enter it. Perhaps you weren’t clear enough, for she felt it acceptable to leave this here as opposed to outside your door.

Doing a circle about the space, you inspected the sealing runes which kept certain individuals out, eyeing the shadows just in case. You had hidden the ancient magic in concealed places, even buying a rug to cover the one at the base of your door, and kept your most important things in your Void. It wasn’t the best place to store your leather and cloak - especially after the moth infestation a few years back - but it was a necessity at the moment. 

Then you went for the present. Pulling the black ribbon atop, you jumped back as the box split into fours, revealing a small radio. It was of a classic design and cathedral in shape, carved from mahogany and detailed in yellow and red. The device was simple, with only two buttons: an on-and-off switch and a volume dial. No tuning dial to change the channel? No chord to plug it in?

Fuck. How did he know? You racked your brain trying to figure out when and to whom you talked to regarding your sleepless nights. Rosie knew, but you hadn’t specifically discussed it with her lately. Did you say something to Husk in passing? To Angel while you were bitching at breakfast? 

Hesitantly, you turned on the device. A pleasant, smooth jazz echoed through the speaker: Paul Whiteman’s “Sleepy Time Down South.” Hilarious… The Radio Demon has a sense of humor. At least it wasn’t the screams of blood-curdling murder. 

After inspecting the radio three times over, you deemed it not a threat - although you kept it far away from your bed as you crawled beneath the sheets. With a snap of your fingers, the bathroom light turned off, plunging you into a cocoon of darkness, enveloped by the lullaby of sweet jazz…

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At some point in the night, you awoke, your mouth parched and throat dry.  

🎶 It’s not the pale moon that excites me 🎶

Alastor’s radio switches over to a new song, the music seeming to follow you as you make your way to the kitchen. The hallways were silent, the Hotel Natives snoozing away in the late hours of the night. 

🎶 That thrills and delights me 🎶

You pass by the library as a zip of static runs its way down your spine, stopping you in your tracks. Alastor stood before the fireplace, flames roaring in its hearth, casting an eerie glow throughout the room. The demon faces the fire, his attention on the crackle of the logs as they whittled away into ash. He was still dressed in his three piece suit you saw him in only hours ago, his ears pressed flat against his head in irritation. Something was bothering him. 

🎶 Oh, no. It’s just the nearness of you 🎶

He pretended not to notice you standing there staring at him from the hallway, but his shadow didn't. It zipped around your feet, twirling about your ankles in greeting, before practically dragging you inside the room. And when it had you well within the confines of the space, it flew to the doors.

🎶 It isn’t your sweet conversation 🎶

The shadow slammed them shut. CLICK! Then locked them. 

You were trapped. 

🎶 That brings this sensation 🎶

Alastor tilts his head over his shoulder, his half-lidded eyes landing on you. The demon looked royally pissed. 

This was it, this was the moment.

Alastor had figured out who you are. Your hood had fallen farther than you thought and he had seen your face and put the pieces together. He knew you were the Shadow, the mysterious new Overlord, here to challenge his grab for Princess Morningstar’s power. 

And he was going to kill you for it. 

🎶 Oh, no. It’s just the nearness of you 🎶

You didn’t hesitate to summon your blue flames, preparing for a fight, yet he moved faster than your mind could comprehend. Between one blink and the next, Alastor appears before you, his hand wrapping around your throat so tight you choke on the lack of air. Grasping at his arm, you dig your claws into his skin, your demon form summoning, as you melt the red fabric with your flame. But he is unphased by the heat, pulling back and slamming you so hard into the wall that spiderwebs crack across the plaster. 

🎶 When you’re in my arms 🎶

You try to summon more flame to burn him down to the very core of his soul like you had done to thousands of Sinners before, but the blue fire does nothing to his skin. It singes the red fabric, turning it black, but his skin beneath is unharmed. 

Shit.

🎶 And I feel you so close to me 🎶

The demon leans in, a low growl emanating from his chest, his teeth glinting in the firelight as his eyes hone in on your neck. As the blood pumped through your jugular, you watched his pupils dilate and fixate on the vein. He was a Cannibal, a predator, a killer whittled down to pure instinct. Everything within him was screaming kill, kill, kill.

🎶 All my wildest dreams came true…🎶

Your lungs screamed as you choked out, “Alastor.” It was weak, barely a whisper, but it was enough to draw his gaze from your neck to your eyes. In his pupils, you saw yourself desperate and bordering on losing yourself to the darkness threatening to close in. Despite the fight you felt in your bones you looked terrified.

🎶 I need no soft lights to enchant me 🎶

His name slipping from your mouth, the quiver he saw in your lips, had cracked something within him.

🎶 If you would only grant me 🎶

His grip disappeared, allowing you a breath of air. 

🎶 The right to hold you ever so tight 🎶

You bent over, coughing onto the floor, sucking down breaths in gasps that make your eyes water. 

🎶And to feel in the night🎶

Standing, you held onto the broken wall, forcing yourself to stay on your feet, despite your knees threatening to collapse beneath you.

“Alastor, what the fuck…” And before you had a chance to finish your question, the demon wraps his claws around your chin and forcefully slams his lips into yours. 

🎶The nearness of you🎶

The kiss was anything but soft, anything but patient. The demon was hungry and starving, and only you could satiate his appetite.

His other hand presses your hip back against the wall as he kicks your legs apart, drawing a gasp from your lips. Alastor takes the opportunity to run his tongue across your bottom lip before snaking it into your mouth. His tongue finds yours, prodding, testing, tasting.  

He pushes you flush against the wall, his knee pressing higher and higher until it finds the pocket between your thighs, eliciting a gasp that turns into a moan as he pulls you onto him, forcing your clit in line with his leg. 

The demon smiles against your lips, finally releasing your chin to grab your waist, his fingers bunching in the thin material of your pajama bottoms. You take the opportunity to find the lapels of his jacket to give you something to grab onto as you arch into him, pulling him closer as you press your breasts into his chest. The demon growls, a deep rumble emanating from within as he bites down on your bottom lip. 

Copper floods your mouth, turning the kiss sweet, but for Alastor, it’s a frenzy. He was no longer satisfied with just tasting you. He had to devour you.  

The silky material of your pajamas was oh-so thin. No underwear or bra beneath them, you were practically naked as the tips of his claws sank into the meat of your hips, beads of red pebbling on your skin. 

God and the pain only added to the pleasure building between your legs, only made your head swim as his lips slid over yours, capturing every drop of scarlet flooding your mouth. 

The demon helps guide your hips as you ground your clit into his thigh, wetness seeping into the silky material before pooling onto his pants. The room flooded with the scent of warm vanilla.

This man had you soaked, had your lips dripping as you ground into him faster and faster, your pleasure building with each roll. Alastor finally released your mouth, his teeth finding your neck, but he didn’t bite. Instead, he teased. He ran his tongue along the dip of your collarbone, tracing it to the spot where your shoulder met your neck, before finally running it up to your ear.

You moaned when he took your lobe into his mouth, nipping at it with his teeth. Alastor instinctively rolled his hips, his cock tenting his pants, grinding on nothing but air. 

Suddenly, it wasn’t enough. The friction wasn’t enough. You needed more. Needed more of him to push yourself over the edge. 

“Al…” You breathed into his ear between moans, your fingers trailing down to the twitch in his pants, but stopping when you hit his belt. “Please…” You tugged.

The demon laughed, capturing your groans with his mouth before answering, “No.” 

You blinked. “No?”

The demon puts a hard stop to your hips, pausing your grinding and the build in your pleasure. He grabs your hand on his belt and captures two of your fingers in his mouth. Sucking with his lips, he circles your fingertips with his tongue, wetting them before guiding your hand back down to your clit. 

“I want to watch,” he smiles against your cheek before he wraps a finger under your chin and brings your face up to his. “Fuck yourself,” he commands. 

And you obeyed.   

Your two fingers find the apex of your pleasure beneath your shorts, and you moan, wetting your clit with his spit as you circle the bud.

You barely have to touch yourself, you’re already so close. 

Alastor does nothing to help, save for his gaze, save for his breath which matched yours. The demon’s eyes glittered with heat and desire as they bore into you. He could feel the pleasure radiating off of you, could feel it as real as you could feel his static on the other side of the bond you formed today. 

“Good girl,” he growled, his cock twitching in his pants with each moan that escaped your lips. 

“I’m close,” you whined, twirling your fingers faster and faster, feeling the pressure build between your legs. 

Alastor dug his claws into your skin, his gaze soaking up every look of pleasure on your face, his ears absorbing every moan, his cock hardening with every swipe of your fingers against yourself.

“Cum for me, darling.” The demon’s lips curled as he swiped the hair from your eyes, sticky with sweat. He wanted to watch as you sent yourself over the edge. He wanted to miss nothing.

And just as you reached your climax...

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...you wake up in bed, your screams of pleasure drawing you from sleep. 

Your orgasm spasmed through your body, your legs twitching as you rode the wave, your pussy clenching on nothing but air…

Fuck, it was the best orgasm you had ever had, nevermind that it was your first.

And when it was over and your mind sobered, you realized it was all a dream.

You never woke up for a glass of water.

You never found Alastor in the library. 

Grabbing a pillow, you launched it at the radio on the coffee table but missed by a mile. Burying your face in the sheets, you screamed. You screamed until your lungs burned because anything was better than acknowledging the truth.

Anything was better than acknowledging that you just had your very first wet dream, and it was of Alastor, the Radio Demon.

Muahahahaha! Remember it's a slow burn ;)

-> Chapter Six

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

*Plato's Allegory of the Cave

Tag List (Let me know if you want to be added):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff

[fandomlife-giver]

His Maid, Offering: 2

Summary: Emotions are a funny thing. There are times when they are out of your reach. It's like they have a mind of their own with a voice commenting it's every action.

Pairings: Sebastian x Demon!reader

@wintersdoll​

Warnings: Implied sex, violence, murder

Word Count: 4022

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Feet pounded against the cobblestone. Shoulders broad, arms stiff, hands twitching from anticipation, and a pair of lips curled into a sneer.

Your eyes were wide and alert as you walked. A feeling was building inside of you. Burning rage hissed through your body like deathly poison, screeching a demanded release in the form of unwanted violence. It was like a volcano erupting; fury sweeping off you like ferocious waves. The wrath consumed, engulfing what remained of your moralities and destroying the boundaries of any ounce of loyalty you had.

Once you saw the flash of white, you stopped. She was standing in the center and she wasn't in any uniform. She was dressed in all white.

She turned and her voice was smooth. "I was wondering when you'd figure it out. When did it finally run through that head of yours?"

You frowned. "It's not important. Let's just say nothing can smell as revolting as you."

There was a hint of the victor in the smile surrounded by her stiff cheeks, not the supple grin of a friend, but the joy of the enemy after the battle is won.

"You seem upset." A sly smile formed. "I did you a favor by cleansing your master and his mistress.  You should be thanking me, demon."

You just stared at her with a darkness in your eyes.

She tilted her head. "Hold on a moment. You seem...different since the last time I saw you."

She hummed in thought, then slightly gasped. "Ah, that's it."  In a quick movement, radiant wings tore from her back and the sharp point of one impaled your shoulder. The force of her strength sent you flying flat against the wall. You stared down at her, no emotion and completely unmoved by her action.

She scoffed. "You've mated. With another demon. Sebastian Michaelis, I'm guessing?"

She twisted deeper into the muscle of your shoulder, but you only narrowed your eyes.

"You have no business here. You seem angry. Does my sexual relations bother you that much?"

She paused and looked down. A small laugh escaped her. You stared as she let out a full bodied laughter.

"You actually think something like him would care for you, don't you? You truly are blind."

"You're only frustrated because you could have prevented it from ever happening." You smirked. "If you would've successfully purified me, that is."

She let out a snarl and looked up at you. "You-" She froze and her eyes widened at the reflection she saw in the mirror. Her eyes moved to the partially covered window and she chuckled.

"You believe a lie, dear Abigail."

Your fist clenched by hearing that dreadful name again.

"So...let me free you from this lie."

You furrowed your brows, right before she turned, and with her other wing, swiped at the cloth covering the window.

Your breathing stopped as your eyes slightly enlarged. Your lips twitched and a growl escaped. Your eyes narrowed into demonic slits.

Sebastian frowned once he caught sight of you. Yet...he still smiled at the nun and offered her his hand.

Your jaw began to vibrate, teeth chattering in anticipation if he would actually do it.

She blushed and took his hand. As they walked away, his hand slipped around her waist and further down to her ass. He opened a door leading to a secluded room and smiled again as she practically ran inside. He paused and you saw his grip tighten on the door.

Though you couldn't see it, he was having a huge battle. He had a clear conscious of engaging, but something was holding him back. Finally, he walked inside and shut the door.

You let out a strangled noise as you stared in disbelief.

She smiled to herself in satisfaction and pulled the point from your shoulder. You slid to the floor and your eyes stayed glued to the ground as she turned and walked away.

"When the time comes, I'll come for you as well. For now...I have a soul that must be cleansed."

Seconds passed after her footsteps faded away. Slowly, your head rose up. "A soul to be cleansed?" . . .

Grell was shaking with anger and he had an itch to kill something with his death scythe.

You watched from afar, leaning against a stone pillar as Grell ranted on about putting the young nun on the To-Die-List. Ciel only stood beside him with his arms crossed, saying something about it being new for seeing Sebastian use this method.

The pillar had pieces falling off by your nails that were scratching through your gloves as you heard her moans of pleasure and the shaking of the building.

'I've never seen you act this way before. You really have strong feelings towards him, don't you?'

Your hand stopped. Your eyes closed with a sigh. "I'm beginning to regret this."

'It hasn't even been a day yet. Stop worrying.'

"I've never wanted to tear through someone's chest so much before. I hate this feeling. Why did I give in? I thought I had more control..."

'There is no control. You know what you're feeling, right?'

You frowned. "Please, don't say it."

'You are in love. I never thought I'd see it.'

"You aren't. Demons don't love, you know that."

'You saw me fall, now I can see you. Besides...you're not all demon, are you?'

You exhaled through your nose. "I blame you for this. It wouldn't have happened if I didn't come back."

'Hey, I didn't tell you to bite his lip. Thank you for letting me hear that, by the way.'

You smirked. "Glad you enjoyed the show." You sighed. "The things I do to please my master."

"Master?"

You looked back and noticed Ciel staring at you curiously, with Grell and...the butler beside him.

You avoided looking at Sebastian. "My Lord. Pardon me, I didn't realize you were there."

"Who were you talking to?"

You tilted your head. "Talking to?" You laughed. "Don't mind me, sir. I was just thinking out loud, that's all."

'Hm, you always were a good liar.'

He looked at you unsurely. "All right, then. Anyways, where were you? You just disappeared."

You smiled. "Don't tell me you were you worried for me, master?"

His cheeks flushed. "N-no! I only asked because I-"

Your smile widened. "Master, it's all right."

He cleared his throat. "Let's move on from that. While you were away, Sebastian gathered some information from one of the nuns."

Your jaw ticked. Oh yes, I'm well aware of that.

"Apparently, these doomsday books also tell the future. And only certain boys chosen of this 'heavenly choir' will be able to gaze at them, other than the leader and those being judged."

Sebastian looked down at Ciel. "So what would you like us to do, master?"

Why? Was the purified nun not satisfying, now you want to do something else?

You put a finger to your lips. "Well, since only boys are chosen for this 'heavenly choir', it means you're the only one of us who can get us close to this priest, master."

"Rubbish!"

You all looked to the side and frowned once you saw Grell, who managed to squeeze himself into a boy's choir uniform.

He put a hand on his hip and posed. "Just look at this outfit, they'll let me into the choir for sure!"

He wiggled his hips. "Well? How do I look?"

He glanced down at the boy Grell had striked earlier that stood, crying beside him at the sight of his stolen clothes on Grell. "Waah! He's making me impure!"

Ciel sighed in annoyance. "I hate this guy."

He looked up, along with you and Sebastian at the sound of angelic like church singing.

The boy clapped his hands together. "It's the cleansing ceremony, it's starting!"

Cleansing?

Flashback...

"When the time comes, I'll come for you as well. For now...I have a soul that needs to be cleansed."

Your lips curled and your nails dug into your palm as Sebastian's eyes narrowed. "I was right. Something here does smell."

Ciel only glanced at Sebastian, then he rose an eyebrow when he saw your angered face. "What is it, Y/N?"

Grell looked at you curiously as Sebastian looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"It's nothing. An old itch. Just a rotten apple. Dead fruit from a fallen tree." . . .

♪Agnus Dei♪ ♪Agnus Dei♪

You silently walked in, head held up as you stared at the depiction of Jesus Christ at the center.

Staring at this...it brings back unwanted memories. Memories I struggled so hard to forget.

Your right hand began shaking, and you couldn't help but cast your head down. Sebastian noticed your odd behavior and reached out for your waist, but you quickly turned and walked down the last aisle.

'Stop that. You're giving me a headache.'

You ignored the voice and sat down on the end of the bench. Once you avoided Sebastian, he frowned and made a beeline towards you. That was, before Ciel sat himself beside you.

He looked up at him with a mocking smile, which only made Sebastian narrow his eyes. And he sighed once Grell latched onto his arm and pulled him down to sit beside him and Ciel.

All eyes watched as the priest entered the room and walked up the stairs to the candle lit podium. He stood atop and addressed the crowd.

"Tonight, the unclean will be made pure again. It is time for the cleansing."

A man and woman were uncovered. Their nude bodies were painted with a black symbol on their backs.

You stared intently at the priest as Sebastian glanced at you. His fists opened and closed as he debated whether or not he should just reach over and take you. He's already done it plenty of times last night.

Unfortunately, Ciel was in between you...in multiple ways.

Feeling Grell tighten his grip on his arm made Sebastian look back at the front. Books were placed on the podium in front of the priest.

"I suppose those are cinematic records?"

Grell only leaned into him more. "Hmm, I'm too far away to tell."

Your brows furrowed in curiosity when he opened the false books. "I shall read the doomsday books of these impure, lost children. First, we have Jill Phesent. Second child to a father, where she conceived a child in sin."

He turned the page. "Then we have Thomas Atkins. He has committed no evil act, per say. But he has spent his life meaninglessly, and that is a grave sin to us."

The man and woman let out screams as their bodies glowed black. You looked around at the audience, who were praying.

Ciel's eye widened at the window above the priest that began to shine golden. "I say! What's happening?"

You narrowed your eyes as it displayed pictures of their so called 'sins'.

The priest rose his arms. "Snuff out the unclean, and the unnecessary, and the unwanted. Snuff them out! All of them!"

The window shattered and the man and woman collapsed to the ground, letting out blood curdling screams once it did.

The light faded away, and what stood was the stain glass window of Jesus Christ.

"Despite what they have done, these people are no longer unclean. Our brother and our sister, now as pure as snow!"

The crowd erupted into a praise of cheer for their leader. The man and woman were covered and led out of the room as they did and you looked down at Ciel. . . .

"Something's wrong here."

Sebastian looked down at Grell, who rested his arm on the bench. "What do you mean?"

"Those books that the priest had...they were definitely not cinematic records."

Ciel looked at him. "They're not? So that means he doesn't have the power to see the past or the future?"

"Oh! You're still here!"

You turned away and snarled as the young nun walked in with two other nuns standing in the doorway behind her.

She smiled. "I'm so excited! The heavens have truly smiled down on you this day!"

You looked at her in confusion when she looked directly at Ciel. . . .

Once the damned nun dragged Ciel away to prepare for his 'cleansing', you nearly ran out of the room in a attempt to stay far away from Sebastian.

"Y/N"

You continued your fast walk, partially hoping he would catch up to you just so you could claw his face!

"You can't ignore me forever, my kitten. I am your mate, remember?"

Your feet instantly stopped.

White knuckles from clenching your fists too hard, and gritted teeth from effort to remain silent, your hunched form exuded an animosity that was like acid - burning, slicing, potent. Your face was red with suppressed rage, and when Sebastian dared to set his hand on your waist, you swung around and mentally snapped.

Your claws came out and you pinned his tailcoat to the wall.

"Exactly. You are my mate. You know what that means, right? You belong to me."

Through clenched teeth, you growled. "No-one else."

He smiled in amusement. "Y/N-"

"I don't think you understand. Let me make it clearer for you."

You took out your claws and grabbed him by the front cloth of his pants and pulled him closer to where he was caging you and he had to put a hand on the wall to balance himself.

"This is all mine."

He chuckled. "Y/N-"

"The only reason I haven't rid of that little nun is because it would cause controversy and attract unwanted attention. We wouldn't want a repeat of the incident with Lord Scriven, would we?"

His hand pressed more on the wall, making it slightly crack just by the mention of his name.

"Exactly" You breathed out as you pulled him closer and lightly grazed his lips.

"Nothing happened."

Your eyes shot open. "What?"

He smirked as he opened his eyes. "It deeply offends me that you would believe me to commit such an act."

"Don't make me look like a fool, I could hear her moans from a mile away."

"What you were hearing was sounds of relief...from her twisted knots."

You furrowed your brows and slightly pushed him away. "Wait, you mean to tell me you gave her a massage? That's all?"

He smiled. "That's all."

You looked to the side and sighed as you let go of the grip on his pants and went to move away, but he didn't move and only grabbed you by the hem of your skirt.

"You know it's you I want. The only one I'll ever want. I yearn for you. I crave for you. A hunger that is insatiable. A passion that burns hotter than fire. That is how I found you, my mate."

His lips were already on yours as he said this and your tongues were already exploring and conquering each other.

"Stop! I can do it myself!"

He sighed when your attention was pulled to the room right across from you and you walked over to it.

Ciel struggled to get out of the nuns' grasp, who were practically tearing his shirt off.

"Don't worry, we've already been cleansed. We can touch you."

"That isn't my issue!"

You stepped forward. "Pardon me, but we can take it from here."

One of the nuns shook her head as Ciel finally pulled himself out of their reach.

"No! You still haven't been cleansed, so you both can't be here!"

You tilted your head as Sebastian walked up and gave a little pout.

"You think we are impure?"

They blushed. "Maybe you're not unclean, after all."

The other shook her head. "No, they aren't!"

Ciel had a look on his face that looked as if he was already done with his life. . . .

You walked into the wash room, carrying a set of clothes the nuns gave you.

"Your attire for the ceremony, master." You placed them beside Sebastian as he scrubbed Ciel's back.

He froze up and slightly blushed as he tried to cover his nude body, but he could only curl up in the hot water.

"Oh yes, thank you."

You stopped and smiled to yourself. He looked at you in confusion. "What?"

You continued to smile as you stood up. "Oh, it's nothing. You're welcome...Ciel."

His eyes widened as you turned and walked away.

"Y/N"

You stopped. "Yes, sir?"

"What happened to your shoulder?"

You instantly covered the blood spot and kept your head down. "It's nothing of your concern, master."

Your eyes narrowed. "Sir. Even if the doomsday books are fake, I feel they have some sort of power."

His jaw clenched. "There's only one thing I want you to say, and I want to hear it right now."

You smiled and bowed your head. "Indeed. Yes, my young Lord." . . .

Ciel was led into the altar with a trio of nuns surrounding him.

"Leader, we've brought him."

Once the priest saw him, he turned and lowered his head. "Well done. You may leave us now."

They bowed their heads and left the room, leaving Ciel alone with the priest.

"You look very clean, Ciel. Very good. Come this way." He turned away and walked over to the podium. Ciel came over and stopped beside him.

"Thank you for choosing me. I understand it's quite an honor."

He placed a hand on Ciel's shoulder and placed a hand on the false book. "Very good. Now, there is something I would like to read to you."

"May I ask you - What is a doomsday book, really?"

He ran his hand across the cover. "For our purposes, it is a story I will read you for as long as you want. Tonight's a treat, isn't it?"

Ciel's eye widened.

Flashback...

"Y/N said that since tomorrow's my birthday, I can sleep in the same room with mother and father tomorrow night. And mother said she's going to read me as many stories as I want!" He happily informed.

Rachel smiled down at him as she rubbed his head. "I'll tell you what, I'll read to you until you fall asleep. Tonight's a treat, isn't it? It's your birthday!"

She looked over at you standing in the doorway. "It's all right Y/N, I'll keep him company. You can go see Vincent, I promise he won't interrupt you."

You smiled. "Thank you, my Lady. If you'll excuse me."

He stared in shock as the priest ran his hand over his face.

Flashback...

"Well, at least you are alright, Ciel." Vincent said as he ran his hand over Ciel's face, making him giggle.

His entire form froze up, unable to process what was happening. That hand...it's his.

"Cleanse yourself."

His eye widened and he pushed the priest away to gaze up at the familiar symbol on the window of the ceiling.

"Cleanse yourself of the sins you've committed. Right here and right now."

He was too busy looking up, and before he could register it, the priest had his hands around his throat.

Ciel clenched his teeth as he stared at the man. That's right. It can't be! It can't!

Flashback...

"Father!" He shouted, until he suddenly went stiff with his eyes wide and mouth open at the sight of his father, already dead, sitting in a chair with the room surrounded by flames.

He clenched his teeth and shut his eyes. "This is an order: Kill this man!!"

You smirked from where you were kneeling. "Yes, my young lord."

The window shattered as you, Sebastian, and Grell jumped through it. Once you landed on the ground, you threw one of the shards of glass straight into the forehead of the priest.

One of the other priests ran in and Sebastian threw a shard at his chest. Once he fell, feathers floated to the ground and you glared up at her as Sebastian smirked.

"I thought it was you. Angela."

She smiled down at him as she spread her wings.

Grell's eyes widened as he stared at her, then looked at you. "Um, N/N, what the hell's an angel doing here?!"

She swooped down and wrapped an wrapped an arm around Ciel. Yours and Sebastian's eyes widened as she flew up with him in her arms.

"Master!"

She took out a book from under her dress, making Grell point at it. "Look! That's a real cinematic record, there!"

Reels of film shot out of the book and wrapped around you and Sebastian. You growled and looked at Grell. "Do something, Grell! Use your death scythe!"

He whined as he struggled to cut the strands that began to surround him. "Give me a second, okay? I'm working on it!"

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at the smaller pair of scissors than before. "What are those sad things?"

He frowned. "Well, what do you want me to do? Will took my other dearth scythe away from me! Oh, how can this get any worse?!"

You rose an eyebrow. "Well, the small pair of scissors in a Swiss pocket knife come to mind."

His eyes widened as he let out a whine.

Angela smirked as she moved her lips by Ciel's ear. "I will show all of it to you. All the light and darkness. Every moment from your past."

A large opening of light formed in the window as she flew closer to it. Ciel let out a yell as they disappeared in it.

Your eyes widened as Sebastian narrowed his. "Ciel!"

"Master!"

Grell took every strand in his scissors and snipped them in pieces. The strands fell from your bodies as he jumped in joy.

"I cut it!"

With clenched teeth, you all raced forward. "Here we go."

As the light got smaller, you all ran and jumped into the light. Once you did, it closed up, leaving a window of Jesus Christ. . . .

"Master!"

You froze once you realized where you were.

Grell turned around and gasped. "This is the Grim Reaper library!"

Sebastian also turned and looked up at the large building on a mountain top.

Grell put a hand on his hip. "I don't know if you both are aware, but this is where the cinematic records are housed."

Once he said that, you and Sebastian were already walking towards it.

As you glanced around, everything felt so familiar. You've only been here twice, but still, it felt surreal.

Once you reached the main doors, you opened one of them. As soon as you did, a familiar long set of shears flew by your face, aiming towards Sebastian who moved, instead nearly hitting Grell.

Will sighed. "Oh, Y/N. As I suspected, it is you." He adjusted his glasses, his sight landing on Sebastian. "I thought I smelled a rat."

Grell ran inside. "Will!"

Will narrowed his eyes. "To think a demon would have the nerve to set foot in here."

You rose your eyebrows. "Will, I'm offended."

He scoffed. "We've been over this, you don't classify as a demon. You shouldn't even be associated with his kind."

Grell held up his hands. "Wait, hold on, Will. I'm looking for the doomsday books like you ordered!"

He closed his eyes in disappointment. "What a shame. A Grim Reaper. And you invited this filth into our territory?" He looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "You're a disgrace. Are you actually trying to demote yourself even further?"

Grell gasped as he snipped his small scissors. "What will you do to me now?"

You cleared your throat and he looked at you. "Again, the pair on a Swiss pocket knife come to mind."

He looked down at his death scythe sadly.

"You call me an invading rat."

You both looked at Sebastian, who was frowning at Will. "But I do believe you have another infestation you need to be worrying about."

Will's eyes widened, before he narrowed them and looked to the side. "The angel."

You nodded. "Yes, that's right."

He sighed and adjusted his glasses again. "Excellent. Looks like I'll have more overtime tonight."

[allbestnet]

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Strange Shores by Indridason, Arnaldur

Tabula Rasa by Downie, Ruth

Truth Be Told by Ryan, Hank Phillippi

Young God by Morris, Katherine Faw

Accident, The by Pavone, Chris

Act of War by Thor, Brad

American Mission, The by Palmer, Matthew

Angel of the Abyss by Kurtz, Ed

Antiquarian, The by Faverón Patriau, Gustavo

Avenue of the Giants, The by Dugain, Marc

Back Channel by Carter, Stephen L. 

Bagmen by Lashner, William

Barkeep, The by Lashner, William

Beat Goes On, The by Rankin, Ian

Betrayed by Scottoline, Lisa

Big Ugly, The by Hinkson, Jake

Bite Harder by Anonymous-9

Black Lotus by K'wan

Blade of the Samurai by Spann, Susan

Blessed Are the Dead by Belcamino, Kristi

Blood Always Tells by Davidson, Hilary

Blood Promise, The by Pryor, Mark

Blue Is the Night by McNamee, Eoin

Blue Labyrinth by Preston, Douglas & Child, Lincoln

Bone Dust White by Salvalaggio, Karen

Borderline by Block, Lawrence

Boy who Killed Demons, The by Zeltserman, Dave

Brainquake by Fuller, Samuel

Broadchurch by Kelly, Erin

Butcher, The by Hillier, Jennifer

Cairo Affair, The by Steinhauer, Olen

Care and Management of Lies, The by Winspear, Jacqueline

Caretakers by Sheffield, Jamie

Chance by Nunn, Kem

Circle of Influence by Dashofy, Annette

Code of the Hills, The by Allen, Nancy

Confession by Baldwin, Carey

Contractors, The by Hunsicker, Harry

Cost of Doing Business, The by Ashley, Jonathan

Cup of Blood by Westerson, Jeri

Dark and Twisted Tide, A by Bolton, S. J.

Darkness, Darkness by Harvey, John

Day She Died, The by McPherson, Catriona

Days of Rage by Taylor, Brad

Dead in Their Vaulted Arches, The by Bradley, Alan

Dead to Me by Staincliffe, Cath

Dead Will Tell, The by Castillo, Linda

Deadly Bonds by Sellers, L. J.

Decoded by Mai, Jia

Deep Winter by Gailey, Samuel W.

Demon Summer, A by Malliet, G. M.

Derek Smith Omnibus, The by Smith, Derek Howe

Designated Daughters by Maron, Margaret

Desperate by Palmer, Daniel

Destroyer Angel by Barr, Nevada

Directive, The by Quirk, Matthew

Director, The by Ignatius, David

Distance, The by Giltrow, Helen

Don't Look Back by Hurwitz, Gregg

Duke City Split by Austin, Max

Dying for a Dude by Sample, Cindy

Elective Procedures by Jones, Merry

Endangered by Cush, Jean Love

Event in Autumn, An by Mankell, Henning

Eyes Closed Tight by Leonard, Peter

Faceoff by Baldacci, David, ed.

Family Hightower, The by Slattery, Brian Francis

Fear Nothing by Gardner, Lisa

Festive in Death by Robb, J. D.

Fifty Mice by Pyne, Daniel

Final Catcall by Kelly, Sofie

Finding Sky by O'Brien, Susan

Fix, The by Lowe, Steve

Forsaken, The by Atkins, Ace

Forty-Two, The by Kurtz, Ed

From the Charred Remains by Calkins, Susanna

Get Blank by Robinson, Justin

Ghost Runner, The by Bilal, Parker

Girl next Door, The by Rendell, Barbara

Glass Houses by Nolan, Terri

Gone Dead Train, The by Turner, Lisa

Grave Matter, A by Huber, Anna Lee

Guillotine Choice, The by Malone, Michael J.

Guns by Myers, Josh

Half World by O'Connor, Scott

Head of State by Marr, Andrew

Heist, The by Silva, Daniel

Herbie's Game by Hallinan, Timothy

Hold the Dark by Girardi, William

House Reckoning by Lawson, Mike

Hunting Shadows by Todd, Charles

Hustle by Pitts, Tom

I Can See in the Dark by Fossum, Karin

I Remember You by Sigurdardottir, Yrsa

In the Company of Sherlock Holmes: Stories Inspired by the Holmes Canon by King, Laurie R. & Klinger, Leslie S., eds.

In the Morning, I'll Be Gone by McKinty, Adrian

Indefensible by Goodman, Lee

Innocent Blood by Rollins, James & Cantrell, Rebecca

Innocent Sleep, The by Perry, Karen

Intern's Handbook, The by Kuhn, Shane

Iron Sickle, The by Límon, Martin

Jack of Spies by Downing, David

January Thaw by Lourey, Jess

Kill Fee by Laukkanen, Owen

Kill Order, The by Burcell, Robin

Kilmoon by Alber, Lisa

Laidlaw by McIlvanney, William

Last Dead Girl, The by Dolan, Harry

Lewis Man, The by May, Peter

Lincoln Myth, The by Berry, Steve

Long Lost Dog of It, The by Kazepis, Michael

Long Way Home by Dolan, Eva

Lost Key, The by Coulter, Catherine & Ellison, J.T.

Madness of July, The by Naughtie, James

Mangle Street Murders, The by Kasasian, M. R. C.

Marco Effect, The by Adler-Olsen, Jussi

Mean Business on North Ganson Street by Zahler, S. Craig

Memory of Flames by Cabasson, Armand

Mistress of Fortune by West, Holly

Moving Day by Stone, Jonathan

Mr. Campion's Farewell by Allingham, Margery & Ripley, Mike

Murder in Murray Hill by Thompson, Victoria

Murder in Pigalle by Black, Cara

Murder in the Afternoon by Brody, Frances

Murder Strikes a Pose by Weber, Tracy

Nazis in the Metro by Daeninckx, Didier

Nine Days by Koenig, Minerva

North of Boston by Elo, Elizabeth

Notorious by Brennan, Allison

One to Go by Pace, Mike

Peter Pan Must Die by Verdon, John

Phantom Instinct by Gardiner, Meg

Pirate Vishnu by Pandian, Gigi

Present Darkness by Nunn, Malla

Providence Rag by DeSilva, Bruce

Reckless Disregard by Rotstein, Robert

Reckoning, The by Airth, Rennie

Reconstructing Amelia by McCreight, Kimberly

Repo Shark by Goodfellow, Cody

Rest Is Silence, The by Benn, James R.

Ruin Falls by Milchman, Jenny

Run by Grant, Andrew

Scandal in Skibbereen by Connolly, Sheila

Scent of New Death, The by Monson, Mike

She's Leaving Home by Shaw, William

Sins of Our Fathers by Otto, Shawn Lawrence

Smoke River by Foss, Krista

Some Dead Genius by Kleinfeld, Lenny

Someone Else's Skin by Hilary, Sarah

Sometimes the Wolf by Waite, Urban

Soul of the Fire by Pattison, Eliot

Sting of the Drone by Clarke, Richard A.

Stolen Ones, The by Montanari, Richard

Stone Cold by Box, C. J.

Story Keeper, The by Wingate, Lisa

Stranger You Know, The by Casey, Jane

Suede to Rest by Vallere, Diane

Summer of the Dead by Keller, Julia

Sun Is God, The by McKinty, Adrian

Suspicion by Finder, Joseph

Sweetness of Life, The by Hochgatterer, Paulus

Tagged for Death by Harris, Sherry

Tailing a Tabby by Cass, Laurie

Target, The by Baldacci, David

Taste Fur Murder, A by Lyle, Dixie

Ten Count, The by Schreck, Tom

Tenth Circle, The by Land, Jon

Third Rail by Flynn, Rory

This Private Plot by Beechey, Alan

Three, The by Lotz, Sarah

Top Secret Twenty-One by Evanovich, Janet

Trouble in the Heartland: Crime Fiction Based on the Songs of Bruce Springsteen by Clifford, Joe, ed.

Truth about the Harry Quebert Affair, The by Dicker, Joel

Under a Silent Moon by Haynes, Elizabeth

Until You're Mine by Hayes, Samantha

Unwilling Accomplice, An by Todd, Charles

Veronica Mars: The Thousand-Dollar Tan Line by Thomas, Rob & Graham, Jennifer

Walt by Wangersky, Russell

Water Rat of Wanchai, The by Hamilton, Ian

Ways of the Dead, The by Tucker, Neely

Well Read, then Dead by Farley, Terrie

Whiskey Baron, The by Sealy, Jon

Who Bombed the Train? by Borger, Judith Yates

Wicked, The by Nicholas, Douglas

Windigo Island by Krueger, William Kent

Worthy Brown's Daughter by Margolin, Philip

Wouldn't It Be Deadly by Ireland, D. E.

You Know Who Killed Me by Estleman, Loren