[center][u]West Heights Apartments, Kenan.[/u][/center]
[center][i]Never let your guard down...[/i][/center] 

Juan opened the door. In the background his hand was raised and engulfed by the fire upon his fingers, licking them in a greedy but subtle movement. When he saw Zi, his eyes blinked once in surprised then quickly stashed it away recovering his smug air. Waving his hand a bit, he doused the fire on his hand, and then leaned into the doorway for a moment. His arms crossed over his chest while he smirked.

“Oh, it’s just you. You’re here early. Well, come in. I was just finishing with Emmet but if you want, we can make it a team event.” Juan teased. He left the door open and turned on his heel back towards Emmet’s bedroom, clearly enjoying his threesome comment. “You can have the front, I rather like the back myself, sweetheart.”

Emmet’s (Emmet’s, not Emmet and Juan’s, because she refused to acknowledge the demon as Emmet’s official roommate) apartment was a peculiar place that definitely took some getting used to. She still remembered the first time she’d come and taken a look around what could be best described as a typical bachelor’s den… only made worse by the fact that there wasn’t only one bachelor inhabiting it. Even at first glance the essence imprints of quite a few individuals stood out, mostly demons, and surely more than Emmet knew about. Not a good first impression of Juan. 

And then, there was the Creep Box, or what some might loosely consider a fridge. Oh, that demonic contraption! They had just settled down on the sofa and started talking when her senses penetrated the insulation and picked up the presence of almost pure essence stored within. The sensation came to her as a shock that cut her off mid-sentence and made her stutter like never before in her life. It wasn’t that she wasn’t used to danger and psychopaths but some part of her was truly amazed at seeing Emmet as one of them. Of course, that might have been the remains of Iris Wallace’s memories interfering with her own, but the technicalities made no difference. So as she awkwardly tried to continue talking and not look terribly suspicious, her extended essence-minions explored the contents of the Creep Box. The buzz of panic was already settling nicely in her stomach and her mind was simultaneously imagining Emmet in all kinds of compromising ways – from the most innocent starving demon to a perverted and twisted human with a knack for little babies. 

It was hypocritical when you think about how at some point she herself had been much like a cannibal, but hey, it’s always different when someone else is doing it. 

It felt like eternity until she finally realised it was his own blood that was stored in the fridge, for one reason or another. And the two automatically clicked when her confused mind took into account the demonic presence scattered about. From that point on, Zi had lived with the unshakable belief that Darius wasn’t the only one abusing her friend in various ways, but his own “room-mate” was asking for a blood tax. 

It made her sick. And when Juan turned out to be the one to open the door and made some vile comment, she let part of her emotions flood her face in a gloriously dishonest smile. She knew she should keep her dignity and her mouth shut but some things were stronger than reason.

“Thank you, honey, but when it comes to the bedroom, me and Emmet like to devote ourselves fully to each other. I think you’d be more of a bother than help.” She retorted as she followed. Reaching the bedroom and seeing Emmet sprawled on the bed put Juan’s comment in a different perspective and made Zi want to quite literally slap her forehead with shame. “Keep your dignity and your mouth shut” – well, maybe next time she’d actually listen to her own advice before making a complete fool out of herself. 

“What the hell have you done to yourself?” She questioned accusatory moving in to trace gentle fingers over Emmet’s wounds. She really hoped, for the sake of avoiding having to bite his head off, that there were no traces of Juan’s essence in those wounds.

Emmet decided Juan reminded him of the cat who devoured the bird and got away with it. The demon’s expression was a little too pleased with Zi’s reaction rather than insulted, a fact he had come to expect since the two were first introduced to each other. Then again, he rarely ever remembered any serious emotions shown by Juan in all the time he knew him. A fact farther enforced when Juan chuckled at Zi’s sarcasm. Gently Juan reached out for one of the bags, the blood red one, and checked it from bag to tube all over for any unsatisfactory flaws. Once the bag had passed his test, Juan eased himself against the nearby wall in a similar fashion as he did in the door framer earlier. Emmet’s eyes rose to meet Juan’s, anxiety jolted through his flesh where the demon merely waited and watched intently. His long fingers drummed on his chin patiently. 

The shadow of Zi’s shape darted just outside Emmet’s vision. Its sudden appearance and his focus engross in figuring out Juan’s motives, despite hearing her voice at the door, caused him to nearly jump out his skin. Then he immediately regretted it. Again, a fresh wave of agony swept through his body and forced it to become ridged in stiff pain. His hands took fistful of his mattress as Zi’s words caught his attention, followed by her fingers gently probing the open wounds. A new warmth and wetness seemed to rise to the surface as blood oozed across the small of his back. 

Before Emmet could put together an explanation, Juan’s answer spared him the trouble. “A sewer imp demon bit him. To be honest, I’m a little jealous. If I had known Emmet like it rough, I would’ve been more than happy to offer.”

Emmet gritted his teeth at Juan, who naturally just smiled in reply.

Zi was just lifting an outraged glare at Juan as he spoke his part. That made the rude words forming at the tip of her tongue melt out into an annoyed hiss. That did explain the remains of Juan’s essence in the fresh wounds and would beg for a thanks rather than a curse. But she wasn’t going to give him gratitude. 

“Well.” She said. “That’s good then. At least it’s out now.” She said, ignoring Juan’s comment and his contribution to the whole thing. As far as she was concerned, all the banks attached to Emmet at the moment could just as well have materialized here out of thin air. “Don’t worry. You’ll get better soon.” She promised Emmet with a smile and got up to get her coat from the chair beside the bed. Reaching into the depths of her inner pockets she fished out a small vial full of what one could consider just air. Opening it, however, would let Juan immediately smell the scent of feathers and vanilla. Zi threw him a cautious glance, obviously wishing he’d remove himself from the room and quickly returned her eyes on the vial. She reached in and when she brought her finger up there was a small droplet of pure essence hanging off the tip of her fingernail. What would have been invisible to most, to her it seemed like a beautiful rainbow-coloured soap-bubble. It would have made her smile if she didn’t need to concentrate. Lowering her finger carefully over Emmet’s back she let it slip into his wounds and dissolve there like a tear in water. Emmet felt the warmth of the essence drip into his wound and spread out through his body like the heat of a fire spreads through a frozen man’s bones. It eased his pain and cleared his head almost entirely. It was the essence of a Miracle angel, the pure magnificence of the creatures most often dubbed to be able to perform impossible deeds. And while most of their powers she knew to be just for show, there was a grain of truth to them as well. It didn’t matter that the healing properties of Miracle angels’ essence were part their own, and part the awakened power of essence of whatever it touched. What was important was that it worked. 

Bottling the vial up and putting it safely away in her pocket, Zi glanced at Juan again, trying not to show her nervousness about having let him see a part of her secret. She had acted impulsively, swayed to be reckless by Emmet’s condition and could only hope that the demon was either stupid enough to realize the implications of what she’d done, or arrogant enough to not give it a second thought. 

“Are you feeling better now?” She leaned in to whisper in Emmet’s ear, her voice all honey and care. “I was told by a Miracle Angel that this would help almost any pain.”
Listening to Zi’s words turn into a hiss, Emmet’s hardened features soften a bit. It seemed misery enjoyed company. Not that he minded, in fact because it was Zi who had made the old saying seem that much sweeter. 

During Zi’s and Juan’s little battle of wills, he had somewhat gotten comfortable being spread out on the bed, the pain dampened by his stillness. He was enjoying Zi’s handling of Juan when he caught her words and promptly turned his head towards her, his expression confused. Already she was retreating back to her coat, her hand slipped in to retrieve what looked like an empty vial and returned back to his side. Emmet snuck Juan a look but instead of receiving a shrug, the demon seemed engross by the item in Zi’s hand. Juan’s eyes narrowed until his face showed that something important had dawned on him the moment it opened. Wordless and ignoring Zi’s worried glance, the demon made his exit faster than Emmet thought possible. In moments Juan had padded his way out of the bedroom, vanishing from sight into what Emmet guessed was the kitchen.

The reaction to what Emmet assumed was an empty bottle caused him to twist his head farther around, trying to give Zi a questionable look, before he spotted her finger reach into it. She stirred it a bit as if she was herding invisible liquid then removed it from the bottle. Carefully, Zi held it with utter care and applied it to his back. The sensation was as immediate as was the healing. A warm, gentle glow seemed to sink into his very core at first. It sought purchase and anchored there, gathering energy before it started to spread a feathery light touch across his skin. In reaction to the unexpected rather than pain, his fingers balled up into fists taking a bit of the sheet with them. Slowly he edged his hand to relax when he realized there was no pain. Lost in the glorious fire spreading through his veins, Emmet closed his eyes and lowered his head upon his arms. His mind’s focus was solely on the feeling and he let himself sink in it, a soft groan betrayed his pleasure. 

He had barely noticed Juan’s arrival back into the room after Zi had sealed her bottle of ‘air’. The demon had two coke cans in his right hand while his left held the neck of a beer and a rolled up adult magazine. On the cover was not so bashful man in his early twenties, straddling a motorcycle and completely naked saved for the handles keeping him modest. Still amazed by the miracle’s energy, Emmet managed to see Zi’s eyes drift in Juan’s direction. It wasn’t hard to realize she was tense but the reason evaded him, like smoke through his fingers, to the reason why. In response, Juan only flashed a smile which seemed to show a slight smugness to it. A fact, Emmet thought, made it seem like Juan knew more than him or aimed make her nervous. Either way his instincts didn’t like it.

His shudder was interrupted by Zi’s head leaning in. Her warm, gentle breath filled his ear and shifted strands of his blond hair. The effect was almost instant when it overpowered his mind’s ability to think. It was for a second he was grateful she couldn’t read minds. Most of his thoughts he believed were spawned from the closeness and likely fact he was half naked, acutely aware of her gentle and caring tone. Damn, he almost felt guilty when he enjoyed it. Almost. His heart couldn’t help but thump a little faster than normal while he just slowly nodded, his eyes fixed on hers. Emmet couldn’t help wondering if her lips were as soft as they looked. 

Ignoring their whispering conversation, Juan thumped one can on the bedside table while he tossed the other one carelessly towards Zi’s lap. Without thinking Emmet’s body had edged over the bed end, his arm reached out and hand caught the can before it hit her. He overlooked the impact’s sting on his palm, its tingles strengthened rapidly then dulled. When he set the coke on the floor, Emmet’s head followed Juan’s form stroll to the far wall where he plopped down. 

His hands raised the magazine to read but his voice spoke, lazy and uncared for his carelessness. “You know, you keep spoiling him like that and he’ll never learn.”
Thanks to her work in the bar, Zi had gotten used to an array of attention from the opposite (and sometimes sane) sex and it hardly ever bothered her. Emmet's stare was another story. His eyes fixed on hers made her heart beat faster and it surely showed on her cheeks as well. For a moment she was torn between the urge to hide her face in embarrassment and leaning in closer. 

Of course, she had forgotten about the demon. Of course, he hadn't forgotten about her, which he signalled by attempting to break her skull with a flying Coke can. Despite Emmet's rescue Zi glared at the demon with all the aggression a well - dressed 25 year old girl could muster. Jan'sexpression told her it wasn't much. Furthermorethe grin he'd sent her earlier (and that her mind had conveniently forgotten about, thanks to Emmet) surely meant he wasn't adverse to the idea of picking a fight with her. Something she didn't really want to get into right now. 

But with Emmet so quiet and Juan so demonstratively obnoxious it was hard to ignore him sitting at the far side of the room. His comment about her spoiling Emmet was the last drop and her mouth snapped back before she could think twice.

"You mind jerking off in another room?" She growled and realised only a moment too late how bad that sounded from the mouth of the lady she was trying to be. She covered her mouth and blushed again, this time for another reason entirely. Throwing a glance at Emmet she apologize through gritted teeth and tried to get out of the situation (aka the appartment) before any more damage is done. "Are you almost ready to go, Emmet?"

Emmet’s eyes widened at Zi, a mixture of awe and surprise. At first, he wasn’t sure if he heard her right but slowly, he knew it wasn’t his imagination as the realization sank in. His head had snapped in her direction, his glaring at Juan and any choice words dried up fast by Zi’s quick remark. Instead Emmet’s golden eyes just stared harder, trying to pierce through some invisible veil which hid a secret he wanted to see. It was a look that edged farther into curiosity now then surprise. It was broken when he saw Juan move in reply. 

The demon’s head pulled above the magazine’s top edge. His hand lowered it down to settle upon his out stretched leg while the other was propped up, his back pressed against the wall where it sank into the slight chill. Shortly he turned his dark face to eye her, a single brow arched in question over her little outburst and a delighted smirk fixed in place. Juan released the grip of his one hands from the book edge in order to lay it upon his uphold knee. His foot tapped a bit, the toes furled and unfurled against the heavily stained carpet where he watched her like a cat did a cornered mouse. A slight glow to his hungry eyes. 

“My, my. Kitty got claws, doesn’t she? Wonder if she ever used them on you, hot stuff?” Juan asked with mocking curiosity. “Not that it would easy to tell of course.” 

“Can it, Juan.” Emmet said his tone dead serious. “Yeah, let’s get Olivia. Just give me a moment to put on a shirt, can’t go out like it. She’s likely wondering where the hell I’m at anyway.”

Buying time for Zi to gather her composure, his attention to the dresser and pulled off the bed towards it. He started to look through the piled up shirts on the top. His hands ruffled through each haphazardly tossed one, discreetly lifted the odd one for a brief note of freshness, before he moved to another. Juan on the other hand appeared unfazed by Emmet’s rudeness or the fact he was nearly stepping on top of the demon. Mainly the only sign he gave that he heard him was Juan’s shoulders shrugged while he pulled his head back down to read his magazine once again. For a moment, Emmet hoped he would stay that way as Emmet started to shift his arms through the day old shirt. Luckily it had only slightly smell of liquor, faded now, and managed to avert his eyes from Zi’s direction during his dressing. The bad part was, the whole time he had trouble trying to ignore how cute she looked while slightly red. Damn it, when will his hormones get under control? 

It was now, Juan decided to speak. “I wouldn’t bother. I already called Darius and told you weren’t able to pick her up.” 

Emmet stopped in his tracks. 

“What? You did what? When the hell did you do that?” 

Emmet felt his face redden when Juan casted him a unconcerned look, for a second breaking from the article only to drift back down after seeing his expression bearing down over the demon. Closer and closer, Emmet lowered himself down to one knee with his other hand braced against the wall until he was inches from the demon’s dreadlocks. He didn’t bother to control his voice, lowering his volume to a soft growl with a dangerous tone. Emmet knew Juan wouldn’t dare hurt him. Not unless he wanted Darius to nail him to a park bench, split him from chest to groin, then while he was alive feed his innards to lowly imps like an old man did with crumbles for pigeons. Starting with the top and working down. 

“Again, did I hear you right?”

“Yeah. You heard me,” Juan spoke in a calm, cool voice, “I did it on the kitchen phone before returning with the cokes. That was why I went in there in the first place. You weren’t in a condition to really pick her up. Darius said Hank was already finishing up with a drop off in the area and would swing by to pick her up on the way back. Simple, now sit down. By the time you get there, she’ll already be at Darius’s.” 

Emmet’s hand retracted from the wall, immediately made it into a fist then slammed the side into the wall. His mind filled with the notion to slam his still balled up fist right upside Juan’s head yet he knew it wouldn’t make him feel better. Instead, he would end up with a broken hand, a past experience he already dealt with once in his stupidity and didn’t need again. Fighting to calm down, Emmet barely noticed the little red dot which skirted through one of the curtain’s larger holes. It darted and danced over his surface as both Juan’s and Emmet’s eyes realized at the same time what its source was.