Devon X Jake Chucky Novels & Stories

"I keep my eyes on those I trust the most. Now tell me, where is the pen drive?" “I don't have the pen drive,” gasped the man, struggling to breathe. David sneered. “Oh, really? You're not very convincing, Parker.” With a swift motion, he punched the man in the face, causing blood to gush from his nose. Parker winced. “I swear, I don't have it,” he pleaded. David's eyes blazed with fury. “You think you can lie to me? I'm the Devil. Tell me where it is.”

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.

“And who is this lovely piece of fresh air with you?” “Charlie Eastman, this is Chastity Van Dyke. Chastity, this is Charlie,” Julian introduced. Charlie burst out laughing. “Yeah, right. Seriously, who’s your date?” “I’m not his date. I’m his friend and my name is Chastity Van Dyke,” she said with bewilderment at his reaction. Charlie stilled. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit confused.” Then he turned to Julian. “A few months ago, you had said Chastity Van Dyke was a harpy from hell that the devil needed to come and collect.”

When I was done, I sat down at the counter and place the bottle on the top. "You want to talk about it?" Jena asked. "Nothing much to say, I spent seven hours listening to her secretary as she explained more about her work that the nurses." Jena scoffed. "Was that all you did today?" I nodded. "Yeah that what I did. Do you know Lucy?" "Lucy? "Yeah master Grayson ex girlfriend." "Ohh that Lucy." She nodded. "You know her?" I asked. "Yeah I do, everyone in the mafia knows their love story." Jena smiled. "She's was proposed wife of master Grayson before she decided to breakup with him."

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.

Wolves collided with the shadows of those wings, thrown across the room as blood and instant death erupted. Vivica froze, eyes wide, her chest rising as she watched the devil himself descend upon them. The dark blue aura surrounding him pressed against her burning skin, sending a thrill along her heated skin, and desire, through her. All the rumors about him turned out to be true. He was the Devil. The real Devil. Finn stepped forward deliberately, each movement slow, lethal, deliberate. He stopped just in front of her, the room now deathly silent except for the beat of her pulsing heat.

“Brother?” “Not by blood,” Jace clarified. “But close enough.” Alex tilted his head. “Like mommy and aunt Kelsey?” Jace nodded. “Exactly like that.” Alex considered this. Jace gestured lightly. “His name is Devon. And that makes him your uncle.” Devon’s face lit up like Christmas had come early. He crouched again, this time slower, more careful. “See?” he said gently. “Not a bad guy.” He raised his palm. “High five?”

"Stop all drug supply to Mikequel Christoper! And return double the money received from him." "Yes, sir." Devon switched off the phone unilaterally. He looked down at his right hand, blood still clinging to his palm. He slapped the face of a young woman he would trust as his bottom. "I bet she's more brutal than Alaric's son and daughter," Devon thought. *****

Langston gave me a small, infuriating smile. “I’m not implying anything, but if you aren’t involved… how do you explain this?” He nodded once toward the tech officer posted by the projector screen. The guard stepped forward, pressed a button, and— There I was, silver fur, massive and unmistakable, at the centre of the park. My fangs were bared at Clementine—Midnight Reaper, my claws extended, ready to tear into her throat. Then came Jimmie’s voice, clear as day, “Devon, wait! That’s Clementine! My cousin!”

“Since you were such a good girl, I have a surprise for you.” Taking a step back, he shook off the jacket and harness. Pulling the tight-fitting t-shirt over his head, he exposed his naked chest. Over his heart was a fresh tattoo. It was the outline of a bunny with the number thirteen over its belly. Underneath, in black script were the words, Devon’s Daddy. Devon gasped, understanding the importance of his gesture. As he had marked her as his own, she now had her mark on him. “I love you, Devon,” he declared as he searched her eyes.