Page 5 of Devil May Lie
The Brumal mafia dealt in all sorts of untoward things, and it wasn’t like Madden himself was innocent, but still. “What possible reason could you have for carrying that around all day on your person?”
“I didn’t intend to use it, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Berga replied, skin beginning to flush a light pink shade. “It’s still in its testing stages, and I was hoping to convince Kelevra to conduct a few tests for me.”
“Kelevra?” He frowned. “Why him?” And since when were the two close enough for the prince to trust ingesting something from the Butcher?
“He and his Royal Consort like to dabble from time to time,” he explained with a noncommittal shrug. “It spices up the bedroom.”
As someone who had—unfortunately—walked in on Kelevra and Rin a time or two, they didn’t need any help in that department.
Madden shifted awkwardly in his seat when the Butcher didn’t say anything else, but his gaze seemed to focus on him. “What are you doing?”
“I’m calculating.”
“Calculating what exactly?”
“Your last race for the night would have just ended. Typically, the crowd starts to thin as soon as that happens, but there are always those who linger. Plus, one of the racers tonight was Gull—She has a rather large fanbase. I won’t be able to make it back to my car before the effects of the drug kick in.”
Oh. “Do you want me to call someone over?” Madden stepped toward the door, but Berga shook his head sharply.
“I don’t fuck strangers,” he sounded disgusted by the notion, but that only confused Madden further.
“We aren’t exactly bosom buddies, Butcher. We barely know each other.”
“You know I don’t like getting bodily fluids on my person,” Berga reminded. “That’s enough for us to proceed.”
“Pro—” He laughed, catching himself, and then rested his hands on his hips. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but no thank you.”
“Do you not find me attractive?” He didn’t sound insulted by that possibility. “You sleep with men and women, so it’s not my gender. Is it the horns, perhaps?” Berga brushed his fingers over the right one almost self-consciously.
Except, people like Berga didn’t get self-conscious.
Did they?
Most of Madden’s experiences with psychopathy and sociopathy came from the other Devils, but Kelevra took front and center since he was around him all the time. Kel and Berga were completely different monsters, however. They had practically nothing in common, and that reason alone put Madden on edge.
Because he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle this situation.
He’d wanted entertainment.
But this wasn’t what he’d meant.
“It’s not the horns,” he found himself saying. “I always liked them, actually.” Not a lie. He really had. What wasn’t to like?
In truth, everything about the other man was attractive. He was beautiful in an ethereal sort of way, with soft features that belied the viciousness hidden beneath that pale, moon-kissed skin. Since he was a born Vital, he had many of the features natives to the planet did, the horns included. They were two tiny gemstone protrusions set high on his forehead, only an inch or so long and of a similar width.
“When’d you change your hair?” Madden asked, noticing for the first time since Berga had entered that his roots were showing. A shimmery, pale green color was coming through. “Your natural color isn’t black?”
Had he been dying it even as a kid?!
“My natural color is pastel green. Why?” Berga’s hand moved there. “Do you not like it?”
“I…” Huh? “Why does that matter?”
“I guess it doesn’t really.” Berga dropped his arms and set the glass down, then reached into the mini fridge and grabbed a beer. Bringing it over to Madden, he offered it with what was clearly a forced smile that was more creepy than friendly.
Creepy enough it had Madden taking the offering and downing a swallow just for an excuse to look away from it.
“Why do you dye it?” he asked, mostly to keep the conversation going and off that other topic.