Not 100% about this one, but I'm trying to get my speed up so I'm happy about getting one written in a month. Hope you enjoyed! Didn't do an amazing proof read, so let me know if I missed any typos.

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Chapter 6

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Sparring with Mephisto was an education. He'd stripped down to a t-shirt for their fight, and Shura was almost flattered that he thought to save his suit. But her feelings soon faded to frustration, and reluctant awe. Shura threw slash after slash of her blade, but Mephisto was never there. With a cry, she feigned towards his shoulder, before aiming a devastating kick to his stomach. Her foot grazed his side, and he was gone again. Shura felt her stomach clench with excitement. Close. So close.

Mephisto struggled to keep the strain off his face as he dodged and darted around the ring. Shura was a firecracker. He felt her blade slice through the air, the wind of its passing sharp on his skin. He couldn't help but grin. She wasn't pulling any of her punches. If he was a hair slower, she would disembowel him. Mephisto felt an odd swell of pride. Shura couldn't have forgotten that their lives were intertwined. To know that she trusted him to be able to dodge such terrible blows, stroked his ego in the most wonderful way. With that pride thrumming in his blood, Mephisto pressed the attack. His showy flashes, and hard blows rattled the air and Shura had to dive for cover. Mephisto's chest thrummed with an odd bark of laughter. For the first time in centuries, he felt young again.

When the match finally ended, they were both breathing hard. Shura was too pumped with adrenaline to care that she was the worst off. Mephisto was a Demon King, and even so little of his power was enough to make her heart pound with awe and fear. She was just delighted to still be standing. Every glancing blow rattled her bones, but he'd never hit hard enough to break. She'd even ended up having fun, and she was almost certain that Mephisto had too. His face was carefully calm, but he couldn't hide the wild delight in his cat green eyes. The odd pair walked out together, quiet but comfortable. Shura was sweaty, drained, and calmer than she'd felt in weeks.

The calm even took her through a whole day of classes, and well into her private training session with Rin. Even if he was being a nightmare.

"Huh?! What the hell! This is too hard!"

Shura rolled her eyes at Rin's outburst. Her heart quirked with affection as she ground her knuckles into the top of his head.

"Didn't realise Shiro raised such a brat! Yer exam is in less than a month!"

Rin struggled wildly, arms scrabbling at her headlock as tears streamed down his face.

"You old hag! I wanna be a knight!" Rin managed to break loose. "Meditation fucking sucks!"

Shura leapt after his with murder in her eyes. The room soon rang with Rin's unholy screeching, and Mephisto's laughter, as desks crashed to the ground in the wake of their brawl.

Shura yanked her sword from her chest as Rin hopped up on her desk and pulled a face at her. He was a big, burly youth of eighteen now, more man than boy, and Shura was so fond of him it hurt. She was still going to annihilate him for calling her a hag. Mephisto cleared his throat. Shura glanced at him, and was taken apart at the sparkle of mischief in his eyes. He winked.

"Rin is right, Miss Shura."

Rin's attention twitched from Shura to Mephisto and his expression was torn between triumph and suspicion.

Mephisto waved a hand. "After all, knowing the Vatican, the exam has probably already started."

Shura sheathed her sword with a loud sigh. Her expression was that of a downtrodden teacher, but her eyes glittered and she had to frown to keep the smile off her face.

"Yeah, I saw one of the inspectors the other day." She glanced at Rin. "You saw them as well right? They start early so they can weed out the students with no observation skills."

Rin's face was a picture of horror.

"Well, you can hardly blame them, princess. What use would the Vatican have for exorcists who aren't aware of their surroundings?" Mephisto's refined chuckle was like salt in the wound.

Shura laughed loudly. "Yer onto something! I remember my exam! I was too afraid to go piss! Could feel their little eyes on me…"

Rin's face was as red as a tomato when he cottoned on. He stormed off, eyes streaming with embarrassment and hurling abuse at them. Shura and Mephisto howled with laughter.

ooo

Shiemi struggled not to cry. A shrivelled husk was all that remained of the little shoot she had been nursing. She had just arrived to tend to the plant this morning, and found the sad little scene waiting for her. Her jailor hovered behind her like a wraith. Shiemi shuddered with fear. Her little hands turned grimy as she tried to pat the soil into something that would conceal the dead plant. No such luck.

"You killed it."

Shiemi shivered. Amaimon's voice always sounded so distant, and detached. It was somehow all the more terrifying for it.

"Maybe… it's asleep?" She whispered.

Amaimon's answer had an edge. "Don't lie to me."

This time it wasn't all fear that made her shiver.

It was silent for a while. Shiemi knelt over her little dead plant, too afraid to look at the demon watching her so quietly. She felt like a mouse under the gaze of a tiger.

"You have to play another game," Amaimon eventually said.

Shiemi quivered at the memory of running.

"What game?" Her voice was barely louder than a breath.

Amaimon tilted his head back. The sun shone down on his face, and for a moment he was so beautiful that Shiemi forgot how to breathe.

"What game, I wonder," he said to himself.

He cracked open an eye, and Shiemi couldn't believe he could be so cruel and so handsome.

Amaimon went over to her, hunkered down as she knelt in the dirt. He was too close. Shiemi's heart hammered, and he ran a claw down the pulse in her throat.

"So nervous, little exorcist." There was the faint curve of a smile on his lips. "I know you like playing games with me."

Her face flushed with shame, even as she let his nose brush against hers. He laughed at the heat in her cheeks, and the flash of fangs made her shudder with horror. Amaimon pulled her close, and he was too rough. Shiemi felt her skin bruise like spoilt fruit, even as she leaned into his touch.

"What game to choose..." His eyes sparkled with something that was half delight, and half awful, savage hunger.

Shiemi told herself she was brave.

"It's my turn to pick," she said.

Her voice didn't tremble, even though her hands did.

In an instant she was on her back. Amaimon loomed over her, and Shiemi couldn't tell if he was excited or furious.

"I pick," he hissed.

She licked her lips nervously, and her stomach clenched when his eyes dropped to watch.

She forced her expression calm. "Fine," she said with a shrug. "You've probably played it before anyway."

Amaimon stiffened and Shiemi forced down a smile at the look on his face. She still had to wait a while, back pressed hard into the dirt and his hands clamped around her arms.

"…What game?" He asked reluctantly, pride warring with curiosity.

She puffed her cheeks out to stop for grinning, and Amaimon recoiled sharply.

"What are you doing?!" He looked horrified.

Finally free, Shiemi popped up. "I won't tell you unless you say you'll play my game."

She swallowed nervously when his hands flexed into fists, but Shiemi didn't look away from his icy eyes.

Eventually, Amaimon extended a hand.

"Deal." His voice was granite.

With a thrill of fear and anticipation, Shiemi grabbed it and shook.

"What do you want, if you win?"

Amaimon sneered at her, still sour. "I'm going to spank you."

Shiemi choked on her own spit.

The next few minutes were mortifying. Amaimon yowled with laughter as she hacked and coughed. Her face was crimson and her eyes and nose streamed painfully. Shiemi wanted the ground to swallow her up. She was even more regretful that the damn plant had died. The awful thing probably would have eaten her, and spared her this torment.

"You are more ridiculous than the average human." Amaimon's laughter suggested that this was quite the achievement.

Shiemi's eyes watered as she hissed at him. "Don't make such ridiculous jokes then."

The sly curl of Amaimon's smile was devastating.

"I wasn't joking," he purred. "What have you set this all up to win, little trickster?"

Shiemi swallowed nervously, suddenly certain that she was a fool. The idea had been flitting around her deepest dreams for weeks now. Vague stirrings of longing plagued her. But to try and make them a reality… It was too late to turn back now.

"If you lose," she said carefully. "You have to kiss me. Gently."

Amaimon's eyebrows shot up at her request. A burning flush started to crawl up Shiemi's face.

She started babbling, cutting him off before he could comment on her odd request. "The game is a riddle. If you can answer it in one go, you win. If you can't I win."

He nodded gravely, though there was an unpleasant twist to his mouth. He didn't seem thrilled by games that didn't involve her running for her life.

Shiemi took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She knew he was going to be furious.

"What manner of creature haunts a classroom at night?"

Amaimon relaxed and his eyes glittered with excitement. "A ghost of someone who went there."

Shiemi swallowed hard. "No."

Amaimon's face twisted with fury and all at once he wasn't beautiful any more.

"An alpha-bat," she whispered.

Hands slammed her to the ground, all claws this time. Amaimon's pupils were thin slits of fury and he snarled in her face.

"You tricked me," he hissed.

Shiemi lay motionless, eyes shut tight. "We had a deal."

She was still surprised when his lips brushed against hers. Despite the promise, she'd been expecting claws, not kisses. Shiemi hadn't even been sure that he could be gentle. His lips were soft and warm as they moved slowly against hers, and her lashes fluttered when he tangled his fingers in her hair. He was gentle, gentle, gentle until the sweetness had stoked a fire in her belly. Until she was in too deep to want to stop. Then he wasn't gentle any more. He was rough, and hard, and demanding, and Shiemi found that she loved that too. Even as his hands pushed up her skirt and tore open her shirt, she didn't stop him. She gasped with delight as he played with her body. His eyes glittered at the sound of her moans as he rolled her nipples between his fingers, and left marks down the smooth column of her throat. Even when he pulled down the zipper of his trousers, and filled her, right there in the grass, Shiemi loved it.

ooo

Mephisto found it oddly natural to be getting ready for bed with Shura pottering around beside him. They'd been trapped together for a relatively short time, what were weeks to an immortal? But Shura was already remarkably more comfortable. Mephisto studied her out of the corner of his eye. The set of her jaw was softer, and the rabid look had faded a little. Sometimes things would set her off. A wrong touch, or word, would trigger some animal instinct, and her hackles would be up and her teeth bared. But for the most part, Mephisto thought, she was doing remarkably well. Perhaps even coping better than he was. That was one of the things he liked best about humanity. In general they might be unremarkable little cockroaches, but they always survived. Not as individuals, he reminded himself. As individuals they really were too squishy to last long. But as a race, they endured. Shura's adaptability was a testament to her race's persistence. Mephisto couldn't help but admire her a little.

With a wide yawn, unaware of her audience, Shura blinked sleepily and scratched her head. Mephisto smothered a laugh. He stretched and got into bed, careful not to let Shura know he was wide-awake and taking pity on her. She really was touchy. After a few moments, he was gratified to feel the other side of the bed dip under her weight as Shura crawled in next to him. There were metres of empty sheets between them. Mephisto still felt his stomach lurch. He wanted her. In the light of day, and the buzz of activity around them, he could forget sometimes. In the dark of the room, and the silence, he could not. His sensitive skin could feel the slight warmth of her body, even as far apart as they were, and he could smell the sweetness of her shampoo. It was maddening. Against his better instincts, he rolled over to look at her. Shura was awake. Her large eyes glittered in the darkness and he could pick out her features from the slight glow of his eyes. She looked annoyed.

"You are always horny," she hissed.

Mephisto's chest rumbled and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

He ran his nose down her neck, revelling in her sighs. "How could I not be? I have such a beautiful lady at my side."

"You said you wouldn't start anything," she groaned, even as her body arched against him.
Mephisto eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of her breasts pushing up against him. "I said I'd let you stop me."

He kissed her.

Mephisto purred when Shura responded to his advances, her body warm and pliant beneath him, and her lips soft against his own. The feisty woman had tempted him from the day they had first met, and his desire for her fierceness, and her tight little body had only grown during the time they had been linked. The feeling of Shura's colourful emotions brushing against his own drove him to distraction, fanning the flames of his lust. And now he had the chance to scratch his itch. He deepened the kiss fiercely and Shura groaned at the sensation, her hips grinding up against him. Mephisto ran clawed hands over the smooth skin of her sides and grinned against her mouth as he felt her delicate fingers dig into his shoulders. The brush of her tongue set his blood on fire, and he couldn't help but grind against her. His skin felt feverish as he hardened in his pants, and he longed to feel her hands slip under the elastic. He ran a hot tongue down the creamy column of her throat, loving it as she moaned.

"I hate you," she gasped.

But she rubbed against him like she was in heat, and Mephisto knew he didn't have to stop this time.

"You don't hate me," he mumbled as he tugged down the front of her tight top.

Shura sounded like she was trying to disagree, but he sucked hard on her rosy nipples and her voice trailed off into a wail.

He couldn't help but taunt her. "Stop me then."

The sensation of Shura's hands running up and down his spine was delicious. He groaned when her fingers slipped under the waistband of his pants to squeeze the firm cheeks of his ass. Her boldness was delightful. Her skin, damp with sweat, sliding against his own was heavenly. Inflamed by her touch, Mephisto sucked hard on her neck, leaving a mark, even as he rubbed her breast and ground his erection against her. Shura couldn't hold back her breathy gasp of pleasure as she took his tail in a vice-like grip and yanked.

Mephisto screeched. Mirrors around the opulent bedroom shattered, but Shura didn't falter as she flipped their positions and wrapped her fingers around his throat. Mephisto desperately tried to stop his eyes from watering as pain pulsed through him.

"You... bitch..."

Shura's face was a picture of conflict. Her chest was heaving, and her pupils dilated with arousal, but her mouth was set in a snarl. Her hands were tight around his neck, and Mephisto hurt too much to be distracted by her bare flesh.

"Get fresh with me and I will strangle you with yer own entrails." She squeezed harder. "Got it?"

"Understood." Mephisto wheezed.

Shura reluctantly released him. With a final glower she turned sharply away and yanked the covers over herself. Mephisto rolled away from her, trying to take some weight of his throbbing tail. He shut his eyes, hoping for sleep. But his mind churned with disappointment, and a strange longing. He stayed awake that night.

ooo

Faint snores came from the other side of the bed before Mephisto finally heard that faint clink of the latch. Careful not to disturb Shura, still sore and hurt from her rejection, he snuck from the room. He couldn't go far past the door, but he didn't have to. Amaimon sat on the windowsill, face bathed in shadow and the moon at his back.

"Any news?" he asked.

Amaimon shrugged, and Mephisto frowned. Something wasn't right.

"The seedling died," his brother said. "Have to start again."

Mephisto should have been upset, but he wasn't really listening. He was studying Amaimon intently, seeing the hard set to his shoulders and the strange jut to his jaw.

"Come here," Mephisto ordered.

It took longer than it should have for Amaimon to respond. Even then he dragged his feet as he slunk forward. He finally moved close enough for Mephisto to see his face. His eyes glowed ice blue in the darkness, and his pupils were slits. Amaimon couldn't have passed for human anymore, and Mephisto recoiled at the smell of sex off him.

"What have you done?" Mephisto was furious. "I warned you not to lay a hand on her, brother."

Amaimon sneered, and Mephisto was shocked at his boldness. His fangs jutted from him mouth, and his claws were longer. It had been a long time since he'd seen a demon so jacked up on hormones, and Mephisto was ready to kill him.

"She begged me to take her." Amaimon smiled nastily, and Mephisto's hand curled into fists. "Unlike your human."

But Amaimon had picked the wrong place for a battle. Mephisto might be tied to a mortal, but this place was his home. He had power here. The room shifted violently, and all at once Amaimon was in striking range. Mephisto's claws sunk into his face, and his brother screeched with pain. He pulled him close, claws digging into the bone of his skull.

"You are currently useful," Mephisto hissed. "Do not make the mistake of thinking you are indispensable. If this little indiscretion has caused my foundations to shake, I will make you suffer." He smiled, and Amaimon shuddered with horror. "Even if you are my adorable baby brother."

Mephisto released him roughly, claws making a wet sound as they pulled out of Amaimon's flesh. He seemed cowed now. His pupils were normal again, and his shoulders hunched low. Mephisto smiled. It seemed that Amaimon hadn't forgotten his last punishment. And he would suffer this time, if their little brother found out.

"Rin is half in love with the girl already," Mephisto said and snarled at the flash of fury in Amaimon's eyes. "You will keep this a secret. I will not have a mutiny on my hands. If Rin wants blood for this, I will deliver him your head on a pike."

Amaimon couldn't meet his glare, and blood oozed from the punctures on his face.

"I understand, brother. Sorry."

Mephisto sneered. "Leave before I really do kill you. And make sure you have better news next time."

Even after Amaimon left, Mephisto stood by the door, trembling with anger. It was a long time before he could return to bed.

ooo