I felt someone's gaze on me with an intensity that could burn holes into the back of my head, but I ignored it with the indifference of a dead man, unable to bring myself to care. Nothing seemed interesting to me anymore. 

I was sitting in Luogo Del Diavolo surrounded by people, but I was alone in the masses, refusing to make conversation with anyone. It wasn't like they cared anyway. Everyone was either buzzed off their nut or sober enough to take advantage of their vulnerable counterparts. In this place alcohol was merely the food that fattened prey up for slaughter. 

Next to me two lower level demons were chatting excitedly together, and fragments of their conversation were drifting into my mind like static from a bad radio signal: "It was so easy you see...they were two pretty sitting ducks"; "Had so much to drink"; "How much do you think they'll go for?"; "Something high...you know how much they love Europeans"; "What's the normal price you sell em' at?" 

Usually I would've found their talk somewhat amusing- the young ones always got so excited over trafficking deals- but my humour had been lost to the facts of life and death that loomed over me like shadows in a playground. I was as certain that there would be no laughs in store for me tonight, as much as I was sure that I was still being watched by beady eyes. 

I had a lot on my mind. My trip to Italy was in the morning and I didn't dare allow myself to feel any kind of excitement. I was glad I'd prepared everything I needed to before the catastrophe that was this morning. Dev and my human half had done nothing for the rest of the day apart from drink and sleep, silently too scared to stay awake and sober at the same time. 

But I wasn't intoxicated now. I didn't really know why I was here. Maybe I'd just wanted to get out of the apartment. 

Dev had left hours ago, finally mustering up the courage to go back to being on his lonesome; and I had sat and stewed as the sun had finally set over the city that hated me, and had cast me into the open space that was the vulnerability of failure. So many things had gone wrong in such a short amount of time that I didn't even know where to start. 

I wasn't angry with my human half. I should've been but I wasn't. I couldn't blame him for losing his temper when Satan had basically goaded him into doing so: I probably would've done the same thing in his position. And besides, the whole thing seemed suspicious to me anyway. It was almost as if Satan already knew my human half's answer before he said it, because his response about my parents was just too perfect for the purpose of pushing buttons and inspiring fear. Lucifer was very skilful at manipulating emotions for his own will, and perhaps I could see through that, but even if I could did it really matter? I knew that he was trying to scare me but if I messed up again my life would be on the line anyway, so was there any point in ignoring his tactics? Maybe I needed a little bit of fear to inspire me. 

And I was scared. I couldn't deny that. Because I had messed up again, messed up big time- had basically rendered the last ten years of my work useless- and I knew that Satan wouldn't overlook that mistake in a hurry. 

At the time I had thought I was right to be as imposing as I was, but I agreed with my human half now. It was rash and stupid and could possibly be the beginning of my demise, meaning my life would end in the same way my parents' did. 

I'd always wondered how Satan had managed to kill my mother in particular. In general, demons weren't actually allowed to directly kill humans. Sure, they could manipulate others to- every serial killer out there had probably been influenced by demonic powers- but God didn't allow us to just get rid of humans anytime we liked: if he did then there would be none left. 

But I knew how he'd managed to do it now. I'd forgotten that Hell had its own court of law and its own type of justice with a clear and resounding message: take the innocent down for the wrongdoings of others. 

I sighed. Why did I come here? What did I think I was going to accomplish? At least back at the apartment I could mope around in private, instead of having prying eyes watching my every boring facial expression. And, I realised from the corner of my own gaze, my little spy was finally starting to approach me after a good amount of time of just staring. 

I didn't have to look up to sense her arrival. The two lower level demons beside me stopped their conversation to wolf whistle and jeer out slurred, stupid sexual innuendos that clearly demonstrated how much they had been drinking. My attention was aroused enough by the sudden atmosphere change to see what all the fuss was about. 

She was definitely attractive, even for this bar where multitudes of beautiful, half naked women strutted around like unwrapped lollipops and free cocktails. But unlike the others an air of mystery surrounded her like an engulfing, Winter's chill. She was dressed in a tight leather dress that complimented her dark skin and hair and left little to the imagination. Her eyes were a light blue and yet they had no sparkle of light, no reassuring warmth, and suddenly I felt slightly wary. She was definitely a demon and possibly a powerful one at that.

One of the jeering men from beside me stood up to talk to her. "Come out back with me darlin', I've got something special to show you."

It was quite funny really: this guy was at least four inches shorter than her and probably wasn't much stronger than her physically or concerning powers.  

"No thanks," she said tersely with a touch of venom. "I'm busy." 

She made a movement to get past him but he blocked her path. "The way I see it, babe, is that you're getting fucked by me tonight, and you can either come willingly or I'll have to force you." 

Those pale blue eyes flashed dangerously and I almost felt like telling the guy to back off, but I wanted to see what she would do and how much of a threat she really was. 

The smile that touched her face was so lethal that anyone who had any kind of common sense would've run a mile, but alcohol diluted the mind and the fool blocking her stayed still.

She stretched a hand out to touch his face and leaned in closer to him as if to invite him into her personal space, but I knew better. Any sane man knew better. "I'm going to make you feel things you have never felt before," she said softly, seductively, in a voice that could melt butter but with an undertone that could freeze it. 

"Come here," she continued, faking a expression of longing. Like a brainless sheep, he followed her order in a rush of awkward limbs and she laid her crimson-stained lips onto his greedy, filthy mouth.

An ear piercing scream silenced the entire bar as the guy fell to the floor with a thud, clutching his face in agony as it pulsed with vivid, purple lines of the deepest of poisons, torturing every skin cell it could find. 

"What did you do to him?" His friend yelled as he rushed to the floor to try and help him recover, but he continued to shriek and writhe in pain as his face burned with a violet fire. 

"Nothing he didn't deserve," she said simply, her features affected only by an intense feeling of distaste. "Oh don't worry...it might wear off." 

A slight smile graced her face.

His friend swore loudly and dragged her victim off towards the bar to seek help, and the space around us was suddenly clear, the general buzz of Luogo Del Diavolo renewed. The customers here were unfazed by situations like this one because it was nothing more than entertainment to them, and pretty common place entertainment at that. Demonic spats weren't unusual and I had seen quite a few in here in my time, and, it seemed, so had everyone else. 

Poison took her rightfully earned place next to me and I studied her in detail. She really was quite beautiful, with full breasts and sharp eyes, but nevertheless I knew her type: the prettiest of snakes were always the most venomous. 

"Well," I said quietly, breaking the silence between us. "That was quite a show, but when's the next part?" 

She raised her perfectly manicured eyebrows at me in reply and didn't bother to respond. 

I chuckled darkly. "I should've guessed you weren't the type for jokes." 

"No," her voice was exactly how I had suspected it to be: feminine but low, cold but inviting at the same time. "I'm not." 

I expected her to continue but she didn't, and impatience started to flow through my blood and agitate the skin above. 

"What do you want?" I said quite rudely, done with any kind of manners or pleasantries. I came here to be by myself and think, not to be harassed by strangers. 

Sensing my tone, she replied at a quicker pace this time around. "Isn't it obvious?"

"No."

"Maybe I should make it clearer than," she suggested, moving closer to me and laying her hand tentatively on my thigh, close to my groin. 

I laughed out loud. 

"Really? You want me do you? Well what makes you think I'm going to kiss a mouth that just poisoned another man?"

She smirked. "I can only give one kiss of venom a day and besides, you haven't done anything wrong to me yet." 

I studied her for a moment. Something felt...off about this sudden bout of lust. Yes she had been staring at me for the past half an hour or so, but she didn't really seem that interested. 

Yet she was getting closer and closer to me and I was beginning to wonder if I was going insane. I'd had situations of beautiful women wanting to go to bed with me before and I'd never felt so on edge- usually I just fell into the lust.

But maybe that was it. There was no lust here. Not even a spark of chemistry. I felt like I was being touched by a robot wearing human skin. 

The problem must have been me. Maybe my loyalty towards Carmen was stronger than I had originally thought. Maybe I just wasn't into other women anymore. 

She was so close to me now, so close that I could see the layer of make-up she had carefully applied to cover herself up, to hide herself from me. 

I gritted my teeth. I hated it when I lied to myself. 

It was her eyes that gave her away, really. She had been playing the part quite well: a strong, powerful seductress who was cool enough to match my fire. But I'd seen too many lustful gazes to know which ones were genuine and which ones were not. Those pale blue orbs never once diluted as they looked upon me, they never once glowed with the hue of sexual curiosity I was used to and, most importantly, they only pretended to meet my own gaze. 

What did this woman really want with me?