A Vampire's Pride

Bitter Sweet Taste

Viola's POV

I smile to myself, despite my contradicting thoughts.
Kilian is here, and even though everywhere he goes destruction and chaos follows— I'd kinda missed it.

The Deity studies us in distaste, black eyes deeply offended by Kilian's lack of regard.
After a moment of thought, it raises its chin as if we were mere flecks of dirt caught underneath it's shoe. Nothing important.

"The deal is as it was. Come back without it." The Deity says, and it takes me a moment to realize that the 'it' the god spoke of was Kilian.

Then, silence as Mahtu opens her mouth to the ceiling and black smoke claws it's way out of her throat, swirling back into the cauldron. Her eyes slowly drain of darkness, and without another second her body relaxes out of its tense form.

Behind me, Kilian let's out a low whistle, as he grips onto my waist and a small smile flickers to his lips. I turn to glare at him, but the moment my eyes land on his— his features soften, and he's releasing his arm from my waist to reach up to my cheek.

       "Are you hurt?" He murmurs, dark eyelashes gently brushing across his cheeks as he looks down at me. The urge to melt in his arms is prominently there, but instead I shake my head.

        "I was close to seeing something important— why did you pull me out?" I glare sharply at his faux innocent face, knowing exactly how smug he actually is.

         "You shouldn't be making deals with sketchy witches. You can't trust her." He says, darkness gliding over his features coolly. I scoff almost instantly, pulling myself out of his grip as I step back. In my sights I see Kilian raising an amused eyebrow at me, and Mahtu barely coming to her senses. She still hasn't realized who is in the room with us, the heavy daze in her eyes just starting to clear.
Concern takes a place in my chest, and I almost find myself reaching out to make sure she's alright. I'd always been fond of older people, even the grumpy unkind ones— but I doubt witches like being touched by weird strangers that are friends with their enemies.

        "I'm serious." Kilian grasps my chin and turns my face so that I'm looking into his eyes.
      "When your father trapped me all those years ago— who do you think gave him the spell." He says bitterly, watching me under careful eyes. I push his hand gently away with a smile.

          "Awe, is the big bad demon worried about me?" I coo, moving my dark tendrils of hair out of my face. I know that I'm just teasing him, but I can't help myself as warmth spreads inside of my chest. Before he can say anything, I open my mouth again.
         "I don't blame her for what she did— nobody trusts demons. It was only a matter of time before she...helped trap you." I say slowly, considering the fact that my dad and her must've worked very closely for it to have been achieved.

         Kilian narrows his glowing red eyes at me, and I find myself rolling my eyes up at him.

           "Fine, nobody except for my dumbass." I grumble out, hands grasping at my cloak in realization of what I was openly admitting. How dumb is it to trust a demon? Should I google it? His mouth moves to curl into a delicious smile, but before he can take a step towards me; someone else speaks.

          "Well, at least you acknowledge that it isn't smart of you." Mahtu croaks out, still looking a bit dazed but not as much as before.
       As the fog clears out of her eyes, she finds herself turning up her nose in disgust at Kilian.

            "What good is Callence for if he won't even turn unwelcome demons into frogs for a couple of minutes." She grits out as I hide my smile. Why had it become funny for me to witness just how many people carried distaste for Kilian? To this, he folds his muscular arms over his chest, his black warrior leathers moving up just a bit to see two sword-like blades attached to his hips; and glinting at me.
My eyes snag in interest, but I find myself averting my eyes at how hungrily I'm taking in his appearance. My body hums in approval, but my mind finds itself shouting obscenities at me.

"Boy!" Mahtu yell's out, never taking her eyes off of one particular demon. I jump at the volume in her voice, the brittle sharpness in it catching me unexpected. She glances towards me, sympathy alight in her eyes.

"Child, demons are like pure liquid vanilla. They smell and look nice, but once you get a taste— it's the most horrid thing ever and makes you want to vomit all over your brand new rug." She lectures me, and I find myself grinning. Oh I got a taste already— and I found I'd really liked it.

This was the second witch who'd warned me off of demons— just witches. No other creatures of the like had said a word to me back at the camp. Was there an all witch and demon war going on or something? Kilian clicks his tongue, staring at me with his heated eyes and large posture filling up the space.

"Nice analogy. I'm sure Snow White doesn't want to ruin any poor rugs." He flicks his tongue over his lips, a smirk flickering up at the corner of his pink lips.

        "Now," he sighs as the old woman bares her teeth at him.
      "If you don't mind, me and my darling snow storm have somewhere to be. We can rehash our differences later." He says, his powerful voice leaving no room to argue. It's no wonder I'm that, he was being raised to be the ruler of the underworld.

         "You burned my house down." Mahtu snarls as I raise my eyes in surprise. I hadn't gotten that far into the memories to see that. Her poor hippie house, I feel disappointment grow in my stomach at the thought of not being able to see the house in person.

         "Weren't you looking for your... boy?" Kilian slides his eyes towards her in indifference as she pales, and whips her head towards the door.

        "Callence!" She calls, shoving Kilian to the side, and waddling past him. Kilian's large form towers over her, but he does nothing in retaliation except watch in amusement as she walks towards her store section.

       "Did you...?" I turn my attention towards him as he gives me a toothy grin.

      "Now why is it everyone always assumes I'm the bad guy?" He clicks his tongue again. "I'd love to, but no. He was gone before I'd even gotten here." His eyes darken into a blood red shade as irritation flickers at the mention of the flirtatious halfblood warlock.

       "Beautiful, you know I don't lie. We actually do have somewhere to be so—" he steps forward quickly and wraps his arms around my waist before I can object, cradling me toward his chest.

       And then without another second to pass, black inky darkness cocoons around us;

            And we find ourselves teleporting through one of Kilian's portals— the second time he'd done it without making a deal with me.

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