Devils Night Series Novels & Stories

Maybe start planning my next escape for real this time. And then—he did something that caught me off guard. Ronan Blackwood, the Devil himself, squatted in front of me. Not stood. Not loomed. Squatted. Eye level. Holding two glasses of wine in his large hands. “What’s the problem?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. I looked away. “I’m fine,” I muttered.

Bernard parked his car in the driveway and killed the engine. He sat there for a moment, letting out a long breath, his hands still gripping the steering wheel. It had been a hell of a day. Between the shootout at Gianna's warehouse, dealing with the Yellows, and watching Vito navigate his complicated situation with Aiden, Bernard was exhausted. All he wanted was a cold shower and maybe a drink. Or three. He grabbed his jacket from the passenger seat and got out of the car, locking it behind him. The night air was cool, quiet. His neighborhood was one of the few places in the city where you could actually hear yourself think.

“Tell me, Sorah. Was it the red-haired I told you about? Where did you see them?” I zone out for a moment, numbly staring at the scowl on Devon’s face. For sure I can see his stench disdain towards Vampires in general, and towards Andreas in particular. It’s a passion, an obsessive hatred he harbors towards that lone Vampire that sets his orbs alight with black fire. “R-red long hair…crimson glowing eyes…” The words air out my stiff lips and Devon’s eyes go wide with shock before he switches into a cold chuckle. He leaves my shoulders and shares a knowing smirk with Yasha before quickly speaking to someone behind him I didn’t notice until now.

It wasn’t anybody terrifying – though he suspected that some people might disagree with him on that point – since it was Dillon Saunders, his fellow badass, kick-ass bouncer. Dillon nodded in greeting, Curtis returned it. Dillon stalked over to the staffroom, shedding his heavy leather jacket as he went, returned a minute later. He looked around the room, checking things with his practiced eye, then headed over to Curtis. “OK night?” Dillon said in his husky voice, without preamble or small-talk, as per usual. “Trouble?” “None,” Curtis replied. “Tables to watch?” Curtis gestured at one near the pool tables. “The Road Devils are here tonight.”

“Of course he does. The Devil always does.” He blinked at her, unsure if she was joking. She leaned in slightly, adjusting the collar near his neck as she whispered, “Listen to me, cher garçon. The Devil cannot be understood, nor can he be coerced. You may think he loves, you may think he destroys, but really, it is all the same to him. It is all just… instinct.” Her eyes flicked toward Kain, who was now idly folding a page from one of his documents into neat, exact creases. “Keep your guard, mon ange. Always. You will be fine if you remember that.”

CHAPTER 2: The Leaked Videos. (Vincenzo’s POV) Last night, I was upstairs in the VIP lounge, nursing a glass of whiskey that had long since lost its burn. The lights were dim, the air saturated with perfume, lies, and secrets. The waitress had brought me my drink, but my mood was already poisoned. All I could think about was that girl... the one who dared to yell at me outside like I was some street rat. "Are you blind?" she’d said.

I asked. Max shrugged. “How the hell should I know?” I was surprised by his snappy tone. Before I could throw out a smart retort, a small uproar erupted in the party crowd. Looking out, I saw the Devils entering the party. They were all wearing black, their jackets, smoking, carrying their guns. They were led by Dexter who stood at the center of it, enjoying the attention on him. “Well, well, well, isn’t this something? Chadwick, how could you throw a party and not invite your old friend!” he said, addressing Mr. Chadwick.

Devil POV. “Devil…Satan…King of hell…” I heard a voice calling me with a giggle, I love her, I love the way she wakes me up, I had a late night last night. My last assignment isn’t an easy one, it takes most of the day and night, I’m keeping an eye on my target, but it’s not easy, my target loves late night, and loves staying up. I didn’t have any real goal, not to get dirty or to find something, just watch, I lost interest in that job fairly quickly.

he said finally, his voice low, a whisper that sent shivers down her spine, “you will learn that ownership is absolute. And the sooner you accept it… the less painful it will be.” Her hands balled into fists. Anger and fear warred within her. “this place is worse than hell” she whispered, though even she could hear the uncertainty in her own voice. He stepped back, watching her, his expression unreadable, perfectly composed. “Hell?” he said softly. “that was just a reminder that you were owned by a devil, don't let me show you how I punish those who try to defy me. That is all. In time, Yesha Elaine, you will understand that obedience is safe… and that resistance is nothing but illusion.”

He pulled a chair across from me and sat down, close—too close. I shifted slightly, uncomfortable under his presence. Dante pulled out his phone and tapped the screen briefly before turning it toward me and shoving it right in front of my face. I hesitated for a moment, then I forced myself to look. The second my eyes landed on the image on the screen, my entire body went still. It was the serum. Yes, the exact vial I had picked up from the ground that night in the rain. “Does this look familiar to you?” Dante asked calmly.