Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The clinking of crystal and the low hum of conversation vibrated through the opulent bar. Camila leaned against the polished mahogany, the cool wood a stark contrast to the heat radiating from her skin. Her pink hair spilled over her shoulder, a deliberate lure to wandering eyes. Her dark purple eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the room, settling on a man a few stools down. Tailored suit, expensive watch, an air of effortless confidence. Perfect. He met her gaze, a slow smile spreading across his face. A fish on the hook.

She returned the smile, a practiced curve of her lips. It promised allure, nothing more. He approached, hand outstretched. “Julian,” he announced, his voice smooth, practiced.

“Esmeralda,” she purred, her voice a silken lie. She placed her hand in his, the contact fleeting, a spark of energy passing between them, unseen by him.

“Esmeralda,” he repeated, savoring the sound. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

She tilted her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “And you, Julian? What brings such a distinguished gentleman to a place like this?”

He chuckled, the sound low and confident. “Business, of course. But some business is best conducted over a glass of champagne, wouldn’t you agree?” He gestured to the bartender, ordering two glasses.

“Indeed,” Camila agreed, her eyes flickering over his tailored suit. “And what sort of business might that be?”

He launched into a story about a recent deal, something about mergers and acquisitions. Camila tuned out the specifics, focusing on the cadence of his voice, the way his eyes lingered on her face. It was a familiar dance, one she’d performed countless times. She interjected occasionally, a well-placed question, a light laugh, keeping him engaged.

“So, then,” Julian concluded, taking a sip of his champagne, “the deal went through, and everyone was happy.”

Camila raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “Everyone?”

He grinned. “Almost everyone.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “There’s always room for a little extra incentive.”

She laughed, a light, melodic sound. “I’m sure there is.” She met his gaze, letting her own eyes darken slightly. “Tell me more.”

A few glasses of champagne later, his hand brushed against hers, lingering a moment too long. “I know a place where we can continue this conversation in private,” he murmured, his voice thick with suggestion.

Camila’s smile widened, a flicker of something predatory in her eyes. “I’d like that very much.”

The dim light of the bedroom cast long shadows across the plush carpet. Soft jazz drifted from hidden speakers. Julian lay sprawled across the king-sized bed, a contented sigh escaping his lips. His eyes were closed, a blissful smile etched on his face. He reached out a hand, fingers brushing against the empty space beside him. “Esmeralda” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

Camila sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed. The soft light reflected off her skin, giving her an almost ethereal glow. She twirled a lock of her pink hair around her finger.

“That was incredible,” Julian mumbled, finally opening his eyes. His smile faltered slightly as he met her gaze.

“It was memorable,” Camila echoed, her voice smooth, but lacking warmth. She subtly shifted away as he tried to pull her closer.

“Are you alright?” he asked, a crease forming between his brows.

“Perfectly,” she replied, the word clipped. She offered short, dismissive answers to his drowsy attempts at conversation, her gaze drifting around the room. She just wanted to leave.

As Julian’s eyelids grew heavy, a faint, ethereal glow emanated from Camila’s fingertips. A wisp of pale energy flowed from his sleeping form towards her, unseen by his closed eyes. A flicker of satisfaction, brief and sharp, crossed her face. Then, just as quickly, it was gone.

She rose silently, smoothing down her dress, the movement almost automatic. She glanced back at the sleeping man before vanishing in a puff of smoke, leaving behind only the faint, lingering scent of exotic perfume. The soft jazz continued, undisturbed.

The air hung thick with the stench of sulfur and stale ink in Hell’s Department of Souls. Endless rows of filing cabinets, each crammed with the tormented whispers of damned souls, stretched into the hazy distance. Dust motes danced in the dim, flickering light, illuminating the hunched forms of lesser demons shuffling paperwork. It was a symphony of monotony.

Camila leaned against a particularly dusty cabinet, a splash of vibrant crimson in the grey and brown. Her pink hair, usually a cascade of color, seemed muted in the oppressive atmosphere. She idly filed her nails, the sharp clicks echoing in the oppressive silence. Her pointed tail twitched restlessly. A low-level demon, Grokk, stumbled past, his arms laden with soul manifests. With a subtle flick of her foot, Camila nudged the base of the filing cabinet beside her. The stack of papers wobbled, then toppled. Grokk groaned.

“Oh, dear,” Camila said, her voice dripping with false sympathy, shuffling the papers further and kicking a few under the surrounding cabinets. Grokk’s groans intensified. As she “worked,” her gaze drifted to a faded portrait on a far wall: a once-proud demon, now a weeping, shadowy figure, chained and bound. The inscription: “For the sin of misplaced affection.” A shiver ran down Camila’s spine. Foolishness, she thought, dismissing the memory of other demons broken by attachments to mortals. Love is for mortals, and even they aren’t very good at it.

The heavy office door creaked open, and Lilith entered, radiating power. Her dark eyes swept over the scattered papers, Grokk’s flustered state, Camila’s innocent expression. Lilith simply raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Camila shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading across her face.

“Always keeping things interesting, Camila,” Lilith chuckled, dismissing Grokk with a wave. She gestured towards a door leading to her private chambers. “Come. We have much to discuss.”

The heavy oak door swung shut, sealing them off from the Department of Souls. Lilith’s office was a world apart: rich tapestries, comfortable furniture, occult artifacts. The air smelled of incense and something metallic. Lilith stood by a small bar, pouring two glasses of a dark, viscous liquid that shimmered like liquid night.

“I have a new assignment for you,” she said, handing Camila a glass. The liquid smelled of dark chocolate and brimstone. Camila took a sip.

“And what unfortunate soul has caught your attention this time?” Camila asked, leaning back on a plush chaise lounge.

“Speaking of which,” Lilith began, a slight frown creasing her brow, “I trust the last encounter went smoothly?”

Camila shrugged. “As always. He was eager. Though I must say, his imagination was rather lacking.”

Lilith chuckled. “Mortals rarely possess the finesse of our kind. But this next one is different.” She gestured to a thick, leather-bound book on her desk. “A human. A programmer. Untouched by feminine wiles, apparently.”

Camila raised an eyebrow. “Untouched? That’s unusual.”

“Indeed. He lives in a rather mundane apartment. We’ve arranged a little delivery for him.” Lilith tapped the book. “A rather potent grimoire. If he reads the right passage…” Lilith’s lips curved into a smile. “Well, let’s just say he’ll be in need of your special talents.” She picked up the grimoire and handed it to Camila. It was surprisingly heavy. “His name is Vedal. He’s reclusive, dedicated to his work, oblivious to the world. He lives a rather isolated life. It’s almost pathetic. He’s practically begging for some stimulation.”

Camila turned the grimoire over in her hands. “And you think a simple book is enough to lure him in?”

“It will pique his curiosity, draw him in. And once he opens it, that’s where you finish the job.”

Camila snorted. “Should be simple enough.”

Lilith smiled. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

The rhythmic click-clack of the keyboard was the only sound that mattered. Vedal’s fingers danced across the keys, a blur of motion as he navigated the labyrinthine code sprawling across his three monitors. Lines of green text scrolled past, punctuated by the occasional angry red error message that made his eye twitch. Another segmentation fault. Fantastic.

He leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles. The cheap plastic creaked in protest. He rubbed at his tired eyes, the faint scent of stale takeout and energy drinks clinging to his fingers. The apartment was a mess, a monument to his current obsession. Empty containers littered his desk, forming a precarious tower next to a mountain of crumpled energy drink cans. He’d barely left the chair in the last he wasn’t even sure how long. 

He swiveled his chair slightly, glancing at a fourth monitor displaying a live feed of server activity. The graphs and charts were a blur of green and red.

A frustrated sigh escaped his lips. This particular bug was a stubborn one, a phantom lurking deep within the system’s core. He’d been chasing it for days, and it was starting to feel personal. He zoomed in on a section of code, his eyes scanning the intricate lines, searching for the telltale sign of an error.

“Come on, you little,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely a whisper. His fingers flew across the keyboard again, deleting a line here, adding another there. He ran the code again.

The hum of the computers filled the small apartment, a constant, low thrum that vibrated through the floor. The low-fi music playing softly through his headphones was a distant background noise, barely registering in his consciousness.

The rhythmic clicking of the keyboard paused abruptly as a notification chimed from one of the monitors. A video call. He glanced at the caller ID – Anny. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers hovering over the mouse. He wasn’t in the mood for social interaction, but he knew better than to ignore Anny for too long.

He clicked the accept button, and Anny’s face filled a portion of the screen. Her background was a stark contrast to his dimly lit apartment. Brightly colored posters adorned the walls behind her, and sunlight streamed in from a nearby window. She was practically radiating cheerfulness. He squinted slightly, the sudden brightness almost painful.

“Vedal! There you are!” she chirped, her voice bubbly and energetic. “I was wondering when I’d catch you. You’ve been radio silent all day.”

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. “I’ve been busy,” he mumbled.

“Busy breaking the space-time continuum again?” Anny teased, a playful grin spreading across her face.

He snorted. “Something like that. What do you need, Anny?” He didn’t have time for pleasantries.

“I just wanted to give you a sneak peek at the new character designs! They’re absolutely amazing! You’re going to love them!” she exclaimed, holding up a tablet to the camera. A brightly colored, almost cartoonish, image of a female warrior flashed across the screen. Vedal blinked.

“As long as they don’t cause a memory leak, I’m indifferent,” he replied dryly, turning his attention back to his code.

Anny’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she recovered. “Oh, come on! They’re so much more than just data! They have personality!”

“Personality doesn’t prevent buffer overflows,” Vedal retorted, his fingers resuming their dance across the keyboard. He could hear Anny sighing dramatically on the other end of the call.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered. “Fine. Just take a look when you have a minute. They’re in the shared drive.”

“Will do,” he mumbled, his eyes fixed on the screen. He could practically feel Anny’s exasperated gaze through the camera.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to your coding rituals,” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. “But seriously, let me know what you think.”

The call ended, and Anny’s face disappeared from the screen. Vedal let out a small sigh of relief. He appreciated Anny’s enthusiasm, he really did, but sometimes her relentless optimism was a bit much. 

He glanced at the folder icon blinking on his desktop, reminding him of the character designs.

The call with Anny had left him feeling slightly more restless than usual. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but the bright cheerfulness had somehow managed to disturb the carefully constructed equilibrium of his isolated existence. He pushed back from his desk, deciding a bit of tidying was in order. Or, at the very least, a reorganization of the precarious towers of empty energy drink cans that threatened to topple at any moment.

As he shifted a stack of old textbooks – relics from his university days – something bumped against his hand. He frowned, peering into the shadowy corner behind the bookshelf. It was a place where things went to be forgotten, a graveyard of forgotten projects and discarded gadgets. He reached in, pulling out a heavy, rectangular object.

It was a book, but unlike any he’d ever seen before. The cover was made of thick, dark leather, worn and cracked with age. Metal clasps, tarnished and green with verdigris, held it shut. Strange symbols, unlike any alphabet he recognized, were etched into the leather. It looked old. Disturbingly so. It was completely out of place in his sterile, modern apartment.

He turned it over in his hands, a frown creasing his brow. Where had this come from? He certainly didn’t remember buying it. Perhaps it was left behind by the previous tenant? He’d barely even spoken to them, a brief exchange of keys and a hurried signature on a lease agreement.

Curiosity, that ever-present human flaw, got the better of him. He ran a finger over one of the strange symbols, a spiral that seemed to writhe beneath his touch. He rolled his eyes internally. A dusty old book with cryptic symbols? It was practically a cliché.

He undid the clasps, the metal hinges creaking in protest after what must have been decades of inactivity. As he opened the cover, a sudden surge of energy filled the room. The air crackled, and the lights flickered violently, casting dancing shadows across the walls. A gust of wind, seemingly from nowhere, whipped through the apartment, scattering loose papers across the floor.

A blinding flash of white light erupted from the book, momentarily searing his vision. He recoiled, dropping the grimoire onto the floor with a thud. The room was plunged into near darkness for a split second, then the lights flickered back on, albeit dimmer than before. The hum of the computers seemed to falter, then resume, as if struggling to keep up with the sudden energy surge.

He blinked, trying to clear his vision. The air was thick with a strange, almost metallic scent. He looked down at the grimoire, lying open on the floor. Standing between him and the open pages, as if she had just stepped out of the book itself, was a woman. She was striking. Pink hair cascaded around her shoulders, and her eyes, an unnerving shade of violet, held a mischievous glint. She wore a tight-fitting, dark outfit that seemed to shimmer in the dim light.

She smirked, a slow, predatory curve of her lips. “Greetings mortal,” she purred.

Vedal stared at her, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. He blinked again, as if hoping she would disappear. She didn’t. He finally found his voice, his usual dry tone cutting through the charged atmosphere.

“What the hell are you doing in my apartment, you cosplaying weirdo?” he asked,

Chapter Text

"Did you seriously break into my house just to cosplay at me?"

Camila's smirk twitched. This... this wasn't how it was supposed to go. She deepened her voice, letting power thrum through her words. "Mortal, you dare dismiss me so easily?" With a flourish, she conjured dancing flames between her fingers, letting them cast seductive shadows across her face. “I am Camila, and I can fulfill your every wish—“

"Neat trick. Did you get the costume from Wish, or was it AliExpress?" Vedal turned back to his monitors, typing something. "Because the horns are a bit crooked."

Her flames sputtered. "I— They are not!" Camila caught herself, smoothing her expression. Fine. He wanted to play hard to get? She could work with that. Sauntering forward, she traced one perfectly manicured nail down his arm. "You're an interesting one... so resistant to my charms..."

"And you're getting fingerprints on my sleeve," Vedal said, brushing her hand away like an annoying moth. "Did you break in through the window? Because I should probably call the cops if you did."

"I— What? No! I teleported in! Through a hell portal! Which you saw!" Her voice rose an octave.

"Uh-huh. Sure." He didn't even look up from his screen. "The smoke machine was a nice touch though."

Camila gaped at him, then narrowed her eyes. "Are you... are you asexual or something?"

"Nope." He popped the 'p' sound, still typing.

She squinted, extending her supernatural senses. No, he wasn't lying. He was perfectly capable of attraction, he just... wasn't attracted. To her. A succubus. This was impossible.

"Oh, for—" Frustration boiled over. With a snap of her fingers, his black hoodie turned hot pink. "There! Proof! Real magic!"

Vedal finally looked down at his clothes. "Huh." He poked the fabric. "Some kind of light refraction maybe? Or did you spray something on it while I wasn't looking?"

"Light refr— No!" She teleported his coffee mug into her hands. "Look!"

"Interesting. Do it again? I want to check something."

"Check something?" Her voice cracked. In a burst of demonic energy, Camila transformed – wings spreading, horns lengthening, eyes blazing with hellfire. "Is THIS proof enough for you?!"

Vedal tilted his head. "The wing mechanics are pretty impressive. Custom servos? Or is it more of a wire-frame setup?"

The hellfire died in her eyes, replaced by pure bewilderment. Her transformation melted away as she stood there, mouth opening and closing like a confused fish. For the first time in her immortal life, she was completely, utterly speechless.

"Also," Vedal added, turning back to his computer, "your left horn is definitely crooked."

Camila’s left eye twitched.

"Okay," Vedal said, pulling up a new terminal window. "Let's debug this."

Camila blinked. "Debug... what?"

"The summoning." His fingers flew across the keyboard. "There's obviously been some kind of error in the system. Supernatural entities don't just appear in people's houses—that would violate several laws of physics. Therefore, this is either a hallucination, which seems unlikely given the consistent sensory input, or there's a logical explanation we haven't discovered yet."

"I TOLD you," Camila huffed, crossing her arms. "I'm a succubus. I teleported here through a hell portal. This isn't rocket science!"

"No, it's computer science," Vedal muttered, opening another window. "And everything can be debugged if you track down the root cause." He glanced at her. "When exactly did you first manifest? What were the environmental conditions? Any stack traces—er, I mean, unusual events leading up to it?"

The succubus stared at him in disbelief. "Are you... are you trying to troubleshoot my existence?"

"Obviously. Now, would you categorize yourself as a runtime error or more of a memory leak?" He squinted at her horns. "Given the asymmetry, I'm leaning towards buffer overflow."

"I am NOT a bug in your system!" Camila's tail lashed in agitation. "I am a powerful demon from the depths of hell!"

"Uh-huh." Vedal started taking notes. "And what would you say is your primary function? Your main() method, so to speak?"

"My... what?" 

"Your purpose. Core functionality. What's your expected behavior versus actual behavior?" He gestured vaguely at her general existence. "Because right now, you're clearly not executing as intended."

Camila's eye twitched. "I seduce mortals. I tempt them. I drive them mad with desire. I am literally DESIGNED to be irresistible!"

"Ah," Vedal nodded, typing rapidly. "So we've got a clear case of failed input validation. The seduction protocols aren't producing the expected output." He looked up. "Have you tried turning yourself off and on again?"

A small flame sparked between Camila's fingers. "I will turn YOU off. Permanently."

"Hostile response to basic troubleshooting." Vedal continued typing, completely unfazed. "Possible corruption in the error handling routines. Maybe if we roll back to a previous stable version..."

"I am NOT a program!"

"That's exactly what a program would say if it achieved sentience." He paused. "Wait, did I accidentally create AGI? No, that's ridiculous. My current projects aren't nearly advanced enough for that." He returned to typing. "Though I should probably document this bug in detail, just in case. It could be relevant to my work on emotional response algorithms."

Camila floated up to sit cross-legged in the air, chin propped on her hand. "Do you ever think about anything besides work?"

"Why would I?" Vedal replied without looking up. "Emotional attachments are inefficient. They introduce too many random variables into otherwise logical systems. Relationships are just badly optimized algorithms running on wetware that's prone to failure."

"Wow," Camila drawled. "You must be really fun at parties."

"I don't go to parties. They interrupt my coding schedule." He frowned at his screen. "Now, about those asymmetrical horns—if we analyze them as a potential pointer alignment issue..."

The succubus groaned and let herself fall backwards in the air, staring at the ceiling. "I can't believe I got stuck with the one mortal who thinks demonic seduction is a software bug." She lifted her head to glare at him. "You know what your problem is? You're so obsessed with debugging code that you've debugged your entire personality away."

Vedal finally looked up from his computer. "That's not a bug," he said. "It's a feature."

Camila screamed into her hands.

Camila slumped against the worn office chair Vedal had inexplicably placed in the middle of his cluttered apartment. Her crimson wings drooped, and the usual mischievous glint in her eyes was replaced by a dull ache of frustration. This wasn't going as planned. 

"You know," she sighed, her voice laced with forced nonchalance, "most mortals would be more receptive to my charms."

Vedal didn't even look up. "Most mortals also don't interrupt my debugging session with demonic theatrics." He tapped furiously at his keyboard. "Besides, your 'charms' feel suspiciously like those pop-up ads for questionable websites."

Camila bristled. "Questionable? My charms are potent! Enchanting! They're…" She trailed off, realizing the futility of arguing with a brick wall. Or, in this case, a man seemingly made of reinforced apathy. “Fine!” she huffed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Clearly, this isn't working. I'm going back to Hell, where my talents are actually appreciated.”

She closed her eyes, muttered the familiar incantation, and… nothing. She tried again, focusing her will, channeling her demonic energy. Still nothing. A flicker of panic began to rise in her chest. This spell had never failed her before.

"Having trouble?" Vedal asked, finally turning his chair to face her, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Shut up," Camila snapped, her voice tight. She tried the spell a third time, her voice rising in desperation. Still, the familiar tug of dimensional travel didn't come. Instead, she felt tethered. Like an invisible string held her firmly in place.

"Something's wrong," she whispered, more to herself than to Vedal.

"Well, obviously," Vedal deadpanned. "You're still here."

Camila glared at him. “No, I mean the spell. It’s not working. I can’t leave.” She paced the room, wings twitching nervously. A sudden, chilling realization struck her. She frantically reviewed the summoning ritual in her mind, searching for any overlooked detail. And then she found it, buried within the fine print of the ancient text.

“The binding,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “It’s supposed to keep me within a certain radius of the summoner until the contract is fulfilled. A hundred meters, to be exact.”

Vedal raised an eyebrow. “What contract?”

Camila groaned. “The summoning ritual. It’s a contract. I’m supposed to satisfy your desires. In exchange, I get to go back to Hell.”

“My desires? What desires? I just want to finish this debugging."

“That’s the problem!” Camila shrieked, throwing her hands up in the air. “You don’t have any desires! At least not any I can… fulfill!”

Their argument was interrupted by the distinct chime of a video call. Vedal glanced at his monitor and sighed. “It’s Anny.” He reached for his mouse.

Camila, seizing the opportunity for some much-needed mischief, grinned. “Oh, perfect timing.” She darted behind Vedal, crouching beneath his desk.

Vedal frowned. “What are you doing?”

Before he could react, Camila reached up and pressed the accept button. Anny’s face appeared on the screen. “Hey Vedal, just wanted to talk about those assets I sent you.”

Camila grinned.

Vedal’s eyes widened in panic. He frantically tried to cover the microphone, but it was too late. From beneath the desk, Camila began making a series of low, guttural growls, interspersed with occasional high-pitched squeaks.

“Uh… Vedal?” Anny asked, her voice laced with confusion. “Is that… a cat?”

Vedal stammered, his face turning a shade of red Camila had never seen before. “No! It’s… uh… it’s the… the radiator! Yeah, it’s making some… unusual sounds.”

Camila snickered, then let out a loud, drawn-out moan. Anny’s eyes widened. “The… radiator?” she repeated, her voice now laced with suspicion.

“It’s… a new model,” Vedal blurted out, his voice cracking. “Very… experimental.” He reached down and frantically fumbled for the end call button.

“Right,” Anny said slowly, her eyes narrowed. “An experimental radiator. I’ll… just let you get back to that.”

Vedal finally managed to disconnect the call, slumping back in his chair with a groan. He glared at the space beneath his desk. Camila slowly emerged, a triumphant grin plastered across her face.

“That,” she declared, “was much more satisfying than any seduction attempt.”

Vedal glared at Camila, who was now perched on the arm of his couch, swinging her legs and humming a jaunty tune. He was pacing back and forth in front of his bookshelf, a thick, leather-bound tome clutched in his hands. It was the grimoire from which the summoning ritual had been performed, a book he’d initially dismissed as an elaborate prop. Now, however, it was his only hope of understanding the mess he was in.

“Could you at least try to be less annoying?” he snapped, not taking his eyes off the book.

Camila paused her humming, tilting her head. “But I’m not doing anything,” she said innocently, a wide, exaggerated smile plastered on her face. Then, as Vedal turned away, she stuck her tongue out at him.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a long day. He flipped through the brittle pages of the grimoire, scanning the arcane symbols and archaic language. Most of it was gibberish to him, but he was slowly starting to piece together some fragments.

“Okay, so… binding ritual… demonic contract… terms of service…” he muttered, squinting at a particularly dense passage. “’Upon successful summoning, the demon shall remain bound to the summoner until the summoner’s desires are fulfilled, thereby releasing the demon from their earthly tether and allowing passage back to their infernal realm.’”

He looked up at Camila, who was now juggling three small, glowing orbs of light. “So, basically, you’re stuck here until I’m… what, happy? Satisfied? What constitutes ‘fulfilled desires’ in demon terms?”

“It’s subjective,” Camila said, catching one of the orbs as it threatened to fall. “It depends on the individual summoner. Usually, it involves, well, you know.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Vedal rolled his eyes. “Right. Because that’s going to happen.” He turned back to the book, flipping through more pages. “There has to be a loophole. Some kind of termination clause. An escape hatch.”

He spent the next hour poring over the grimoire, his brow furrowed in concentration. Camila, meanwhile, entertained herself by teleporting small objects around the room, occasionally dropping them on Vedal’s head just to see his reaction. Each time, he would shoot her a withering glare, further solidifying their mutual dislike.

“Aha!” Vedal finally exclaimed, pointing at a passage with his finger. “’In the event that the summoner willingly relinquishes their claim to the demon’s services, a ritual of severance may be performed, thereby dissolving the contract and freeing the demon.’”

He looked up at Camila, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “So, all I have to do is relinquish my claim. How do I do that?”

Camila shrugged. “There’s a ritual for that too. It’s complicated. And it requires several rare ingredients.”

“Like what?” Vedal asked, grabbing a notepad and pen.

“Let’s see…” Camila tapped her chin, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “A phoenix feather, a tear with divine essence, the heart of a gorgon—”

Vedal groaned, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Are you serious? Where am I supposed to get that stuff? Amazon Prime?”

“Hey, don’t look at me,” Camila said, spreading her hands innocently. “Those are the requirements. Blame the ancient demon lords, not me.”

Vedal clenched his jaw.

“So,” Vedal began, his voice tight, “we’ve established you’re here. Fine. Now leave. Go, I don’t know, haunt a graveyard or something.”

“A graveyard?” Camila raised an eyebrow. “Like, where? The abandoned laundromat down the street? That’s hardly prime haunting real estate. Besides,” she tapped her finger against her lip, “I’m tethered to you. Remember? I can’t exactly pop off for a haunting vacation. Unless you’re planning a sudden relocation, you’re stuck with me.”

“Relocation?” Vedal sputtered. “I’m not relocating! This is my apartment! I have a lease! A good one! Rent-controlled, even! It’s got proximity to a decent takeout place! And natural light! You can’t just waltz in and claim squatter’s rights!”

Camila hopped off the couch arm, landing gracefully on her feet. “Squatter’s rights? Dude, I’m a demon. I predate the concept of property ownership. Like, by a lot. Besides, where else am I supposed to go? It’s not like I can just… poof to some other dimension. I’m stuck here. With you. It’s the contract.”

“Well, maybe you should have read the fine print before signing up!” Vedal retorted, gesturing wildly around the room. “This is a one-bedroom! I barely have room for myself, let alone a supernatural roommate!”

“Okay, ‘roommate’ is a bit much,” Camila said, running a finger along the spine of a book on his shelf. “Think of it more like a really intense houseguest. Who can also, you know, do supernatural stuff. I could, for instance, handle your pest control. No more pesky dust bunnies or fruit flies. I’m pretty good at banishing those.”

“I don’t have fruit flies!” Vedal protested. “And I can handle dust bunnies myself, thank you very much! With a vacuum cleaner! A perfectly mundane, non-demonic vacuum cleaner!”

“But wouldn’t it be way easier if I just… poof,” Camila snapped her fingers, a small puff of smoke appearing, “and they were gone? Think of the time you’d save! You could finally finish whatever it is you do,” she gestured vaguely at his computer desk, littered with papers and half-finished projects.

“I have important work to do!” Vedal defended. “And that work does not involve outsourcing my cleaning to a denizen of the underworld!” He crossed his arms. “Look, there’s no room. End of story. Maybe you can manifest as, like… a really cool houseplant. I could use some greenery.”

Camila threw her head back and laughed, a melodious sound that grated on Vedal’s nerves. “A houseplant? Seriously? Me, stuck in a pot? No way. Besides,” she grinned, “I’ve already claimed the couch. It’s surprisingly comfy.” She sauntered over and stretched out again, propping her feet up on the armrest. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna chill for a bit. This arguing is surprisingly tiring.”

Vedal stared at her, jaw clenched. He wanted to yell, to throw something, to just make her vanish. But he knew he couldn’t. He was trapped. Stuck in his own apartment with a mischievous, infuriating demon who seemed determined to make his life a living hell. This time, however, the seed of an idea began to form in his mind. If he couldn't get rid of her, perhaps he could make her… uncomfortable.

“Fine,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “But if you even think about touching my computer…”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Camila said, closing her eyes and feigning sleep. But a small, wicked smile played on her lips. Vedal knew, with a sinking feeling, that this was only the beginning.

Chapter Text

Vedal stared at his monitor, the lines of code blurring together as exhaustion crept in. He could sense Camila's presence behind him, perched on the edge of his desk with practiced indifference. The succubus had been there for hours, seemingly content to watch him work while occasionally making pointed comments about his living arrangements.

"Your residence is..." She paused, tapping a finger against her chin. "How shall I put this delicately? Compact? Economical?"

"It's an apartment," Vedal replied flatly, not bothering to turn around. "And it wasn't exactly built to accommodate unexpected demonic houseguests."

"Indeed." Her voice carried a hint of amusement. "Speaking of accommodations, we should discuss sleeping arrangements."

Vedal's fingers paused over the keyboard. "Simple. You take the bed, I'll take the couch."

Camila paused.

“No.”

Vedal’s left eye twitched. “Why not?”

“I claimed the couch.”

Now Vedal did turn, fixing her with a tired glare. "The couch is mine."

"Is it?" In one fluid motion, Camila slid off the desk and draped herself across the couch cushions. "It seems rather... occupied at the moment."

"Camila." His voice carried a warning note. "I have work in the morning. I need proper rest."

She examined her nails, a slight smile playing at her lips. "Then perhaps you should consider the bed. I hear humans find them quite comfortable."

"The couch is better for my back." Vedal stood, approaching the couch with determination. "Move."

"Make me." Her smile widened, revealing just a hint of sharp teeth.

Vedal crossed his arms. "You're being childish."

"And you're being stubborn." She stretched languorously. "I guess that's to be expected from a mortal who programs until his eyes cross."

"Last warning." He moved closer, looming over her. "Get up."

Camila's eyes glittered with challenge. "Or what?"

Vedal reached for her ankles, attempting to drag her off the couch. Camila responded by wrapping her legs around the armrest, using her supernatural strength to maintain her position. When that failed, she started pushing back, trying to force him away with her feet.

"This is ridiculous!" Vedal grunted, narrowly avoiding a kick to his chest.

"I couldn't agree more!" Camila retorted, twisting away from his grasp. "Just take the bed like a sensible human!"

They grappled across the cushions, a tangle of limbs. Vedal managed to get a grip on her shoulders, only for Camila to arch her back and flip him over the armrest with surprising agility. He landed with a thud, wind knocked from his lungs.

"Had enough?" Camila peered down at him, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

Vedal stood, straightened his rumpled shirt, and walked deliberately to the far side of the couch. Without a word, he reached behind it and pulled out a folded blanket. Then, maintaining eye contact the entire time, he lay down on the narrow strip of cushion along the edge of the couch.

Camila stared at him. "What... what are you doing?"

"Going to sleep," he mumbled, pulling the blanket over himself. "As previously stated, I need eight hours."

"But you're practically falling off the edge!"

"Worth it."

A beat of silence followed. Then another. He could feel her incredulous stare boring into him. He closed his eyes, feigning sleep.

"This is absurd," she finally declared. "You're going to injure yourself out of sheer stubbornness."

"Mmm-hmm," he mumbled, not opening his eyes.

He waited, expecting her to finally concede and retreat to the bedroom. Instead, he felt the couch shift. He cracked an eye open to see her head next to him, her eyes glaring daggers.

"What are you doing now?" he whispered, trying to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

"I'm also going to sleep," she said through gritted teeth.

Vedal blinked. "On the couch? With me? There's barely enough room for one person, let alone two."

"Then perhaps you should have taken the bed," she retorted, nudging him closer to the edge with her hip. He nearly rolled onto the floor.

"This is ridiculous," Vedal hissed, pushing back against her. "You're doing this on purpose."

"And you're being insufferable," she countered, shifting again so that her shoulder was pressed firmly against his. "Besides, I already claimed the couch!”

Vedal groaned, closing his eyes again. He could feel every inch of her body pressed against his, the hard angles of her knees digging into him. The shared blanket barely covered either of them. He was practically hanging off the edge, his arm dangling precariously close to the floor.

"You're doing this just to annoy me.”

"Is it working?" she asked sweetly.

He didn't dignify that with a response. He just closed his eyes and tried to ignore the fact that he was sharing a ridiculously small couch with a succubus who clearly delighted in his misery. He could feel her radiating a smug satisfaction.

He shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, but there was nowhere to go. He was trapped. Utterly and completely trapped. He would not concede, but she wouldn’t either.

He just gritted his teeth and prayed for morning to come quickly. This was going to be a long night.

Vedal woke to the distinct sensation of an elbow digging into his ribs. He groaned, his entire body stiff and aching. He pried open his eyes to find himself in a tangled mess of limbs and blankets, pressed against Camila on the ridiculously inadequate couch. Her head was nestled uncomfortably against his shoulder, one of her legs draped over his, and her pink hair—which he noticed with surprise was now cut in a bob rather than flowing past her shoulders like last night—formed a chaotic halo around her face. The demonic horns he remembered were gone too, replaced by two small bat wings that poked out from the sides of her head. He could feel the faint warmth of her breath on his neck. It was, without a doubt, the most uncomfortable night of his life.

"You look... different," he managed, his voice rough with sleep.

Camila stirred, her eyes fluttering open. For a brief moment, there was an almost vulnerable look in her gaze before it quickly hardened into her usual expression of cool amusement. "What, missing the horns? That was just me showing off. This is my actual look." She gestured vaguely at her head. "The wings are cute, right?"

"They're... something," Vedal muttered, trying to subtly dislodge himself, but any movement only seemed to wedge them closer together.

"If you're done staring at my wings," Camila said with a smirk, "maybe you could, oh, I don't know... move?" She punctuated this by jabbing him with her elbow again.

Vedal didn't need to be told twice. He practically scrambled away from her, nearly falling off the couch in his haste. The sudden movement caused the tangled blanket to unravel, pooling on the floor. They both stared at the mess for a moment.

"I didn't sleep a wink," Vedal grumbled, rubbing the crick out of his neck.

"Really? And here I thought your snoring was just aggressive meditation," Camila retorted, pushing herself up into a sitting position and running a hand through her disheveled hair. She looked equally exhausted, dark circles under her eyes and a distinct lack of her usual polished demeanor. It was a small, petty victory, but Vedal would take it.

"This was your fault," he accused, pointing a finger at her.

"Oh, please," she scoffed, batting his finger away. "You were the one who insisted on sleeping on this torture device and making my night miserable.”

"It's called a couch," Vedal corrected wearily. "And you wouldn't have had to sleep on it if you'd just taken the bed like a normal person."

"First of all, not a normal person," she gestured to her wings. "Second, I claimed the couch fair and square. Not my fault you decided to be stubborn about it."

Vedal just sighed, too tired to argue. He stood up, stretching his aching limbs. "I need coffee."

"And I," Camila announced, rising to her feet with exaggerated grace despite her obvious exhaustion, "need real food. Something that isn't," she peered around his apartment with theatrical dismay, "whatever sad bachelor meals you subsist on."

Vedal glanced at the empty kitchen. "There's not much here. I haven’t been to the groceries in a hot minute.”

"Of course.” Camila rolled her eyes. "Let me guess – protein bars and energy drinks? How very... human of you."

"I have cereal," Vedal said.

The look Camila gave him could have withered a cactus. "Cereal? You want me, a literally supernatural being, to eat processed grain bits floating in cow juice? Hard pass."

"It's fortified with vitamins and minerals.”

"Oh my god, you're actually serious." Camila flopped back onto the couch dramatically. "I'm going to waste away here. Death by breakfast cereal. How embarrassing."

Vedal rubbed his temples, feeling a headache starting to form. He was exhausted, he was sore, and now he had to deal with a demanding succubus who apparently had strong opinions about breakfast foods. "Fine," he conceded, grabbing his keys from the small table by the door. "I'll go get something. But don't expect anything fancy. The corner store isn't exactly a five-star restaurant."

"Just get something that wasn't made in a factory that also produces dog food," Camila called after him. "My standards are low right now, but they're not that low."

Vedal reached for the doorknob, eager to escape the stifling atmosphere of his apartment, when a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him. His knees buckled slightly, and he had to grab the wall for support. A strange, draining sensation pulsed through him, as if something was actively pulling him back. He frowned, confused.

He tried to take another step, and the feeling intensified, a sharp pang of weakness shooting through his limbs. He staggered back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He glanced back at Camila, who was watching him with a raised eyebrow, the little bat wings on her head twitching in apparent amusement.

"Having a little trouble there, tough guy?" she asked, barely concealing her smirk.

Vedal glared at her, trying to shake off the dizziness. "I... I don't know what's happening."

"The whole magical tether thing?" Camila examined her nails with exaggerated casualness. “Don’t remember?”

"The tether... I thought we could go a hundred meters," he managed, his voice strained.

“Sure it is, technically speaking,” Camila drawled, finally looking up at him. “But in practice it's more like ten meters before things get super uncomfortable. And by uncomfortable, I mean that whole about-to-pass-out feeling you're rocking right now." She gestured vaguely at his pale face. "Not your best look, by the way."

He looked at her more closely. Despite her casual tone, she looked just as pale and drawn as he felt. "You're feeling it too, aren't you?"

"What gave it away? The designer dark circles under my eyes or the fact that I'm practically glowing with supernatural vitality?" She rolled her eyes. "Yes, genius, I'm feeling it too. We're magically tethered, remember? Package deal."

"So... we have to go together?" he asked, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.

"Ding ding ding! Give the man a prize." She stood up, stretching lazily. "Though we might have a tiny problem with that plan."

He glanced at her attire. She was still wearing the same ridiculously skimpy outfit from last night – some sort of lacy negligee that barely qualified as clothing. He groaned inwardly. "You can't go out like that."

"What, this old thing?" She did a little twirl, the negligee fluttering. "I'll have you know this is peak succubus fashion. Very in this season."

"We're going to a corner store, not a... whatever kind of establishment would consider that appropriate attire."

"A gentleman never asks." She wiggled her eyebrows. "But fine, I'll just use a glamour." She closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating. Nothing happened. She opened her eyes again, a flicker of frustration crossing her features. The bat wings on her head drooped slightly.

"Well, that's embarrassing," she muttered. "Seems my magical tank is running on empty. Thanks for that, by the way. Mr. 'I-Won't-Let-You-Feed-Off-My-Life-Force.'"

"Oh, I suppose I should’ve done the deed with a stranger who broke into my apartment?“ Vedal shot back. He walked over to his drawer and pulled it open, rummaging through the contents. He pulled out a large, slightly faded hoodie with a university logo and a pair of equally worn sweatpants.

"Here," he said, holding them out to her. "Your new outfit awaits."

Camila stared at the clothes as if they might bite her. The bat wings on her head stood straight up in apparent horror. "You're joking, right? This is some kind of weird human humor I'm not getting?"

"It's this or we don't get food."

She took the hoodie between two fingers, holding it at arm's length. "This is a war crime. I'm pretty sure this violates several supernatural conventions."

"It's a hoodie, not torture."

"Says you," she muttered, but started pulling it on anyway. "If anyone from the demon realm sees me in this, I'm never living it down. Do you know how long I've maintained my reputation as a fashionable succubus?”

The hoodie swallowed her slender frame, making her look oddly young and vulnerable. The bat wings on her head poked out through the hood, creating small bumps. She pulled on the sweatpants, cinching them tight at the waist.

"I look like one of those college students during finals week," she complained, tugging at the sleeves.

"That's an improvement over 'escaped exotic dancer.”

"I preferred 'professional seductress,' but whatever helps you sleep at night." She pulled the hood up, trying to hide her face. "Let's just get this over with before anyone I know sees me. My street cred can only take so many hits."

They stepped out into the hallway together, Vedal trying not to smile at the sight of a succubus drowning in his old college hoodie. The bat wings poking through the hood really completed the look.

"Stop smirking," Camila muttered as they headed down the stairs. "This is temporary. Very temporary. The second I get my powers back, I'm incinerating these clothes."

They reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped out into the bright morning sunlight. Vedal cringed at the light. He glanced at Camila, who was now squinting against the light, her hand shielding her eyes. Despite her obvious displeasure, she seemed slightly less tense now that they were outside.

“Let’s just get the food and go back,” he said, starting to walk down the street towards the corner store.

Chapter Text

The fluorescent lights of the corner store hit Vedal like a slap to the face. He squinted, throwing up a hand to shield his eyes while Camila strode in beside him, utterly unfazed. Her analytical gaze swept the aisles with surgical precision, clearly hunting for something specific. Vedal shuffled after her, grateful that at least their magical tether wasn't tugging at him as long as he stayed close.

She stopped dead in front of the dairy section, scrutinizing the parade of milk cartons and yogurt containers. "Huh. Bovine secretions," she said, almost to herself. "Not bad."

"Hold up." Vedal lowered his hand. "Wasn't it you who called this stuff ‘cow juice’ just earlier?”

"Yeah, well." Camila shrugged, picking up a strawberry yogurt and reading the label. "Raw milk is gross. This processed stuff though..." She turned the container over in her hands. "Could be interesting."

A familiar presence materialized beside them, and Vedal's stomach dropped. Filian. The store's resident chatterbox was leaning against the counter, sporting her trademark thousand-watt grin. He'd known her since moving in—she was everything he wasn't: outgoing, exuberant, and completely incapable of minding her own business.

"Well, would you look at what just wandered into my humble establishment!" Her eyes landed on Camila and practically sparkled. "Vedal, you sly dog. When did you start dating supermodels?"

Heat rushed to his face. "We're not—I mean, she isn't—" He shot a desperate glance at Camila, who was now utterly absorbed in examining a tub of artificial whipped topping. He jabbed her with an elbow. Nothing.

"Oh my God." Filian's voice dropped to a delighted stage whisper. "She's foreign! Did you actually go and get yourself a mail-order bride?"

"Jesus Christ, Filian, no!" Vedal hissed, frantically checking if anyone else was within earshot. "She's just... visiting. From... away." He made a vague gesture that could have meant anything from 'the next town over' to 'the far side of Jupiter.'

"Uh-huh." Filian's grin turned wicked. "A 'visitor' wearing your university hoodie?"

Vedal's soul tried to leave his body. Before he could stammer out an explanation, Camila finally decided to join the conversation, turning around with the whipped topping in hand. Her hood slipped back, revealing those telltale pointed ears peeking through her pink hair. Vedal nearly had a heart attack.

"Hey, what's high fructose corn syrup?" she asked, gesturing with the container. "It's in like, everything here."

"It's... sugar?" Filian blinked, trying to peer around Vedal's increasingly desperate attempts to block her view. "But, like, cheaper?"

"Cheap sugar?" Camila wrinkled her nose. "Pass." She reached for a bag of candy instead, her elongated fingers—complete with subtly pointed nails—curling around the plastic.

Filian's gasp could have sucked the air out of the room. "Holy shi—" She whipped back to Vedal, her expression somewhere between shock and pure glee. "Those ears... are those...?"

"COSPLAY!" Vedal practically shouted, laughing like someone was holding him at gunpoint. "She's really into cosplay! Super committed! Right?" He clapped Camila's shoulder hard enough to stagger a normal person. She didn't budge an inch.

Camila raised an eyebrow. "Oh right,” She glanced at Vedal with barely concealed amusement. “You mentioned that yesterday.”

"Yes! Exactly!" Vedal's voice had climbed several octaves. "Just like in those stories you love, Filian! All pretend! Very normal!"

But Filian was transfixed by Camila's ears, reaching out with scholarly interest. "But they look so real..."

"Want a closer look?" Camila asked with a mischievous grin, and before Vedal could stop her, she pulled her hair all the way back, exposing both her pointed ears and a set of fangs that definitely weren't from any costume store.

Instead of screaming, Filian lit up like Times Square on New Year's Eve. "Oh my god, you're cosplaying 'My Demon Girlfriend Works the Night Shift'! That's my absolute favorite manga!"

Vedal's brain short-circuited.

"The character work is incredible!" Filian gushed. "The ears, the fangs, that otherworldly grace—you've got it all down!"

"Oh?" Camila's eyes sparkled with interest. “You’re a fan of this ‘manga’?”

"Girl, I live and breathe this series!" Filian ducked behind the counter and emerged with a fresh manga volume. "Here, take this. On the house. You're literally the best cosplayer I've ever seen!"

Camila accepted the gift while Vedal stood there looking like he'd been hit with a fish.

"Vedal," Filian stage-whispered as they prepared to leave, "she's absolutely perfect. Don't mess this up."

He managed a weak smile, grabbed their purchases, and all but dragged Camila out of the store, leaving Filian's knowing grin behind them.

Their corner store spoils lay scattered across the small table like evidence from a junk food crime scene—empty chip bags crackling in the night air, a sweating soda bottle leaving rings of condensation on the wood. But Camila had abandoned their snack carnage in favor of more interesting pursuits. Specifically, floating upside down by the window, pink hair dangling toward the floor, utterly absorbed in Filian's manga.

Vedal kept stealing glances from his computer desk, where he'd been trying—and spectacularly failing—to focus on his code. It was hard to concentrate when there was a literal demon doing her best impression of a bat while reading Japanese comics in his apartment.

"Hey, Vedal?" Camila's voice drifted across the room, tinged with genuine curiosity. "What's with this confession scene? The guy's going on about his heart racing whenever he sees her. Is that normal? Sounds like a medical condition."

Vedal swiveled away from his monitors with a sigh that came from his soul. "It's a metaphor," he muttered, scrubbing at his eyes. "You know, for being nervous. Excited."

"Nervous?" She tilted her head, which looked particularly ridiculous given her inverted state. "But she hasn't even tried to harvest his soul yet. What's there to be nervous about?"

"It's not—" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's about feelings, Camila. Emotional connection. Wanting to be around someone because you care about them, not because you want to..." He flapped his hand vaguely in the air, hoping she'd fill in the blank.

"Bang?" she offered helpfully, her smirk visible even upside down. "Bump uglies? Do the horizontal tango?"

"Oh my god."

She gracefully flipped right-side up, landing on her feet without a sound. "And then they just... hold hands? That's it?" She frowned at the page. "Seems pretty tame."

"It's about intimacy," Vedal mumbled, already regretting this entire conversation.

"Intimacy?" Her eyebrows shot up. "But they haven't even gotten to first base. I thought you humans were all about the physical stuff."

He closed his eyes, counting to ten. "Human relationships are complicated, okay? Sometimes it's about connection. Trust. Actually caring about each other as people."

"Ah." Camila tapped her chin thoughtfully, then her face lit up with understanding. "So it's like marinating! You're tenderizing the meat before you cook it."

"That's... horrifying, actually."

"No, no, I get it now." She nodded sagely. "Romance is just foreplay with extra steps. A long game to make them more... receptive." Her eyes glittered dangerously. "Very clever."

Vedal's jaw clenched. "That's really not—"

"I'm just doing my research." She stalked toward him, her voice dropping to a velvet purr. "Got to understand what makes humans tick, right? What they..." She leaned down, bringing her face close to his. "...desire." She winked. "Wouldn't want to disappoint when it comes to fulfilling our contract."

Vedal briefly considered if it was too late to become a monk.

Camila's answering grin could have lit up Vegas.

The smoke detector hadn't gone off yet, which Camila was counting as a win. She stood before her culinary war crime: two slabs of carbon that had once been bread, flanked by eggs with the consistency of rubber bands. A sad sprig of parsley drooped across the plate like nature's white flag. Gordon Ramsay would've wept.

She glanced at the manga propped open on the counter—specifically, the full-color spread of the demon girl preparing a perfect Japanese breakfast for her love interest. "Your cooking filled my heart with warmth," the speech bubble proclaimed. Camila looked back at her charred offering. Yeah, this was definitely not going according to the reference material.

And she’s woken up so early too—which was even more of a challenge than you’d expect given how she (once again) had barely gotten any sleep due to the couch wars.

Vedal ghosted past her breakfast apocalypse without so much as a flinch. He moved through their shared kitchen like a programmer on autopilot, muscle memory guiding him through his sacred coffee ritual. The grinder hummed under his touch, and soon the burnt toast smell was fighting a losing battle against fresh coffee aroma. Prize secured, he retreated to his natural habitat—a tech nest of monitors, wires, and precarious paper towers that claimed to be a workspace.

Camila followed, holding her disaster plate like some twisted offering. The magical tether between them tugged insistently, making her roll her eyes. According to chapter three of "My Demon Girlfriend Works the Night Shift," the key to a human's heart was through his stomach. She'd switched tactics after her attempts at seduction had gotten about as much response as flirting with a keyboard. If the manga was right (and it had to be, right?), maybe playing house would crack that titanium shell of his.

Though clearly, she'd overestimated his ability to notice anything that wasn't written in Python.

"Breakfast is served!" she announced with the forced cheer of a hostage reading a ransom note. An ethernet cable tried to assassinate her, and the plate did an interpretive dance in her hands. The manga hadn't mentioned anything about the hazards of navigating a programmer's lair.

Vedal didn't even turn. "I can smell it," he said, dry as debugging documentation. He took a pointed sip of coffee.

Grinding her teeth, Camila tried to wedge the plate onto his overcrowded desk. A stack of papers—covered in what looked like elvish but was probably JavaScript—immediately committed suicide, scattering across the floor. Burnt toast crumbs rained down like apocalyptic confetti. So much for the manga's perfect domestic scene where the demon girl's cooking made the human "weak with joy."

Vedal's fingers stopped mid-type. He turned with the slow inevitability of a loading screen, surveying the carnage with dead-inside calm. A vein did a little dance at his temple.

"You know," he said, voice cold enough to freeze hell, "I had a system here. A delicate ecosystem of controlled chaos. And you just introduced entropy squared."

Camila's fake smile evaporated faster than her cooking skills. She fought the urge to check the manga again—surely there was a chapter on how to handle when your domestic goddess routine went sideways. "Oh, my bad," she purred, sweetness masking enough venom to drop an elephant. "Should I have submitted a formal request to enter your sacred coding cave? Maybe filled out some paperwork? Gotten FBI clearance?"

“You didn’t know what yogurt was, where the hell did you even learn about the FBI—?”

His phone chirped. The ice in his expression melted like it had been hit with a blowtorch.  He accepted the call.

"Anny? Hey."

Her voice responded through the speaker.

“Neuro finally decided to behave," he continued, slumping back in his chair like someone had cut his strings. A smudge of char decorated his temple where he'd touched it—a badge of honor from the breakfast battle. "Twelve hours of debugging, all because of one stupid semicolon."

A musical giggle spilled from the speaker. "Oh, Vedal," Anny's voice sang, warm as fresh coffee. "And here I thought the almighty code wizard was above such mortal mistakes."

"Ha ha," Vedal drawled, but his face had forgotten how to frown. "Let's see you code perfect syntax after mainlining energy drinks for twelve hours straight."

"Please," Anny scoffed. "My art stays flawless 24/7, unlike certain people's code." There was a muffled crash. "Oops. My tail again."

"Nice costume," Vedal said automatically.

"Oh, right... costume." Anny's laugh hitched before dropping into a purr. "Speaking of things that look good... I've got some new character designs. One of them has quite the impressive... polygon count."

Vedal rolled his eyes. “Anyway…”

The conversation meandered through tech talk and playful banter until Vedal signed off with a soft "Thanks, Anny. You're amazing." His phone went down, but his smile stuck around like a stubborn bug in production code.

Camila watched the whole exchange like a cat spotting a wounded bird, the failed breakfast forgotten. She glanced between Vedal's softened expression and the manga still visible in the kitchen. Now that she thought about it, the guy in the manga was totally alone. But here was Vedal, Mr. Emotional Firewall himself, practically glowing over a simple phone call.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him return to work, muttering sweet nothings to his code. The scattered papers lay ignored, but Camila had found something much more interesting. The manga had accidentally taught her something useful after all—just not the lesson it intended.

A slow, wicked grin spread across her face as the pieces clicked together. She'd finally found it—the weakness in his firewall.

Anny.

And if there was one thing Camila excelled at, it was exploiting vulnerabilities. Time to write her own version of this romance story—one with a very different ending than the manga's saccharine happily-ever-after.

Chapter Text

Camila stretched, a theatrical yawn that rippled through her entire body. She arched her back - just enough to catch Vedal's attention. His head twitched toward her, annoyance flickering across his features before he returned to his code. Perfect.

The "accident" came next. With practiced carelessness, she bumped the stack of papers perched on the shelf's edge. They tumbled down in a white cascade, scattering across the floor. "Oh no!" she gasped, honey-sweet insincerity coating each word.

Vedal exhaled - the sound of paradise lost - and knelt to gather the chaos of papers, dark hair falling forward to shield his expression. Now.

Quick as thought, Camila channeled a whisper of demonic power. The phone on his desk slid into her waiting hand, concealed behind her manga, the movement fluid as water. When Vedal straightened, frowning at the empty spot where his phone had been, she was already lounging, manga held at the perfect angle, the picture of innocence.

The phone buzzed. Anny. Camila bit back a grin. This was better than she'd dared hope.

She slipped into the bathroom, closing the door with barely a whisper. Leaning against cool tile, she finally allowed herself a predatory smile before answering.

"Hello?" Her voice dripped sweetness. "This is Camila, Vedal's... girlfriend." She savored the word like poison candy.

The silence on the other end stretched taut before Anny's voice emerged, uncertain. “This is Anny. I needed to speak with Vedal..."

"Oh, he's here somewhere," Camila purred. "Poor thing's been taking such good care of me. I caught his flu, you see." She punctuated it with a delicate cough.

"Flu?" The edge in Anny's voice could have cut glass. "He never... and girlfriend? That's not—he would have told me." A pause heavy with dawning hurt. "Who are you really?"

"Just Camila," she replied, voice honeyed with false warmth. "We haven't been together long, but he's so attentive." A soft laugh, designed to paint intimate pictures. "I'm surprised he hasn't mentioned me. Though you're his friend, aren't you? I'm sure you understand how private he can be." The words carried just enough dismissal to sting.

“What?” The disbelief in Anny's voice was palpable. Another pause, this one filled with the sound of certainties crumbling. “This doesn't make sense."

"He's so considerate," Camila continued, ignoring Anny's confusion. "Always making sure I'm comfortable. Especially after last night..." She let the implication hang, heavy and poisonous.

"I just needed to ask about the build," Anny pressed, desperation creeping in. "The sprite integration for the new level—it's crucial for our timeline."

"He's been so stressed about deadlines," Camila sighed, coating concern with condescension. "I hate to burden him with anything non-essential."

The silence stretched. Camila could almost see the memories clicking into place in Anny's mind—background noises from previous calls taking on new, unsettling context.

"I... suppose it can wait," Anny finally managed, her voice hollow with hurt and creeping disgust.

"You're so understanding," Camila cooed. Then, dropping to a conspiratorial whisper: "And please, don't mention I picked up. He worries so much already."

"Right," Anny said flatly. "I won't."

“You’re a lifesaver,” Camila chirped. “Goodbye!” She ended the call, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. She stepped out of the bathroom and flew silently to Vedal’s desk while he was looking to the left. With a flick of her wrist, the phone slid silently back across the desk, landing precisely where it had been before. She picked up her manga, resuming her pose of bored indifference as if nothing had transpired. Vedal, still hunched over his computer, remained blissfully unaware.

Camila hurled her manga across the room with dramatic flair. It landed on the coffee table with a satisfying thud, sending a few papers fluttering to the ground. "I'm dying," she announced to the room at large. "Actually, literally dying of boredom. Is this what humans do all day? Stare at screens until their brains leak out their ears?"

Vedal's only response was the continued click-clack of his keyboard.

"Hey." She floated over to his desk, deliberately positioning herself between him and his precious monitors. "How long have you been sitting here?"

"You're blocking my code," Vedal muttered, leaning sideways to peer around her.

"Oh no, how tragic. However will you survive missing three seconds of your precious... what even is this?" She squinted at the screen. "Is this supposed to make sense to anyone?"

"It makes sense to people who don't spend their time trying to seduce random humans for fun."

"Excuse you," Camila huffed, crossing her arms. "I'll have you know I'm extremely selective about who I seduce. And anyway, that's not the point. The point is we're stuck in this shoebox you call an apartment, and I'm losing my mind." She draped herself across his desk, strategically covering his keyboard. "Don't you ever do anything fun? You know, F-U-N? That thing normal people occasionally experience?"

Vedal just pushed his chair back slightly, pulled out his phone, and continued working on that instead.

"Ugh, you're impossible!" Camila rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. "I need stimulation! Adventure! Drama! Instead, I'm trapped here listening to you muttering about 'syntax errors' and 'buffer overflows' like some kind of... of... computer priest!"

That actually got a snort out of him. "Computer priest?"

"Whatever! You know what I mean. Look, we're bound together whether we like it or not, so can we please, please do something other than watch you commune with your electronic rectangles?"

"We went out yesterday," he pointed out, still typing on his phone.

"Oh yes, the great grocery store expedition of 2025. Truly the height of human culture and excitement." She sat up, fixing him with her best pleading look. "Come on, Ved. I'm a creature of passion and chaos! I wasn't meant to be confined to four walls and the endless symphony of your keyboard!"

"Don't call me Ved."

"I'll call you whatever I want until you take me somewhere interesting." She peered over his shoulder. "What are you even working on that's so important?"

"Debugging the collision detection system for—"

"Nope! Don't care!" She hopped off his desk and began pacing. "Human world, Vedal. It's right out there! Full of things to see and people to tor— I mean, meet. You can't tell me you're not even a little curious about what's happening outside these walls."

"I can tell you exactly that."

"What if I promise not to mess with you for a whole day?"

Vedal actually looked up at that, eyebrow raised. "You couldn't manage that if you tried."

"Try me! I'll be completely, totally professional. No seduction, no chaos, no drama." She raised her hand in a mock pledge. "Demon's honor."

"Demons don't have honor."

"Rude! We have tons of honor. It's just... flexible honor." She grinned. "Come on, what do you say? One hour of fresh air in exchange for twenty-four hours of me being on my absolute best behavior?"

Vedal sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're not going to shut up until I agree, are you?"

"Not a chance!"

"Fine." He stood up, saving his work. "One hour. And if I miss a critical bug because of this..."

"Yes! Victory!" Camila pumped her fist in the air. "And hey, maybe we'll find you a pretty human to talk to. One who speaks your weird computer language."

"What happened to 'no drama'?"

"That starts after our adventure, obviously."

They stepped out into the afternoon sun, Camila immediately twirling with her arms spread wide. The city bustled around them, a symphony of human life that made her grin with delight. Even the simple act of walking down the street felt like freedom after being cooped up inside. She could feel the invisible tether between them stretch as she darted ahead, stopping just short of the ten-meter limit that would make them both nauseated.

"Look at all this!" she exclaimed, gesturing at the crowded sidewalks and towering buildings. "This is living, Vedal! Not whatever sad little hermit existence you've got going on in there."

"My 'sad little hermit existence' pays the rent."

"Details, details—" Camila stopped abruptly as they rounded a corner. Down a narrow alley, she spotted a familiar face: Filian. Except now, that sunshine personality was nowhere to be seen as several large men loomed over her, backing her against a wall.

Before Camila could even process what was happening, Vedal burst into motion. He sprinted down the alley, all traces of his usual apathy gone, replaced by something she'd never seen before: fierce determination.

Camila stood frozen for a moment, her mind struggling to reconcile this new version of Vedal with the snarky programmer she knew. The tether tugged insistently, urging her to follow.

"Hey!" Vedal's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "Leave her alone!"

Camila stared after him, utterly baffled. “Well, I guess I’d better go make sure he doesn’t crack his head on the cement.”

Chapter Text

Vedal's body moved before his mind could catch up. The surge that propelled him forward wasn't rage—it was something colder, more focused. The sight of Filian cornered by those thugs had triggered something primal in him, something that demanded action.

"Back off!" His voice echoed against the brick walls, sharper than he'd intended.

The men wheeled around. In the dim light of the alley, they looked like sculptures carved from spite—all bulk and menace, with heavy shadows pooling in the hollows of their faces. The leader's scar twisted as he smiled, a pale slash across his weathered face.

"Well, look who wants to play hero." The man's voice was gravel wrapped in silk. "Walk away, boy. This isn't your concern."

"It is now." Vedal planted himself between Filian and the thugs, painfully aware of how his lean frame measured up against their bulk. He felt the familiar tingle of Camila's presence at the end of the alleyway, watching —their magical tether humming with tension. A part of him half-expected her to vanish, or worse, switch sides for her own amusement. 

The scarred man took a step forward, his boots scraping against broken concrete. "Last chance."

Vedal's heart hammered against his ribs, but his voice remained steady. "Not happening." He caught a glimpse of Filian's face—equal parts terror and disbelief—and steeled himself. The men began to close in, and Vedal braced for impact, hoping he could buy enough time for someone to notice, to help.

"Gentlemen." Camila's voice cut through the tension like a blade of ice. She glided forward, taking her place beside Vedal. Gone was her usual playful smirk, replaced by something harder, more dangerous. From beneath her hoodier, her purple eyes seemed to glow in the dark of the alleyway. “Let's be reasonable about this."

Vedal gulped. With her help, maybe this was salvagable.

The leader barked out a laugh. "Another one? This night keeps getting better."

Camila leaned close to Vedal, her lips barely moving. "I could glamor myself—become their perfect fantasy. They wouldn't even notice when Filian slips away."

Vedal’s eyes widened in horror. “Absolutely not!” he hissed back, his voice barely a whisper.

Camila blinked, then frowned. “Oh. Are you worried it won’t work? Trust me, I can make it convincing.” She tilted her head, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice. “Or is this some kind of human morality thing? You think you’re too good for a little harmless deception? Looking down on me because I’m a succubus and I don’t have your pristine human values?”

“No!” Vedal hissed, his face flushing crimson. He twisted his hands together, his anxiety spiking. “No, I’m not worried about any of that! I’m worried about you!” He couldn’t articulate the specifics of his fear, but the image of these men laying hands on Camila made his stomach churn. “What if they… I don’t want them to… just no!”

Camila stared at him, her expression shifting from annoyance to surprise. A long moment of silence passed between them, the tension in the alley hanging heavy in the air.

“Oh,” she finally said, her voice soft. She looked away, a strange expression on her face. After a few seconds she looked back at him and said, with a tone that was more hesitant than Vedal had ever heard from her, “Okay. Okay, I won’t.”

“Hey!” one of the thugs yelled. “Quit whispering over there!”

“Why are we standing around?” Another one said.

Camila looked at them. Something flashed across her eyes and the vulnerability disappeared. She smirked and dropped her voice into a sultry tone. 

“Come on, boys,” She said. “Can’t you give a lady a moment? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

The thug’s mouth opened and went dry. He smiled lustfully.

“Sure, babe. Take all the time you need.”

“—But not too long!” another thug said.

Vedal released a shaky breath, his mind racing. "What about..." He glanced at the thugs, then back to her. "Could you make them think the police are coming? The full show—sirens, lights, everything?"

A slow smile spread across Camila's face, genuine this time. "Vedal," she said. "that's actually brilliant."

She raised her hands, and the air began to shimmer. The first siren started as a whisper, then grew into a wail that bounced off the alley walls. Red and blue light strobed against the bricks, casting wild shadows that danced and twisted. The sound of squealing tires and shouted commands filled the air, so real that even Vedal felt his pulse quicken.

“Cops!”

The thugs broke instantly. They scrambled over each other in their panic, the scarred leader cursing as he stumbled over a fallen trash can. In seconds, they had vanished around the corner, leaving nothing but scattered garbage and the echo of their footsteps.

The illusion cut out abruptly, plunging the alley into silence. Vedal turned to Camila, awe written across his features. "That was amazing."

She shrugged, but couldn't quite hide her pleased expression. "Just a bit of mess management." She nodded toward Filian, who was still staring at the alley entrance, trembling slightly.

"Thank you," Filian whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. "Both of you." She gave them one last grateful look before hurrying away, her footsteps fading into the night.

Vedal watched her go, the adrenaline slowly draining from his system. He glanced at Camila, who was studying him with an expression he couldn't quite read. For once, neither of them seemed to know what to say.

Camila leaned against the alley wall, her tail having poked out of the sweatpants and flicking restlessly against the brick. The events from earlier kept replaying in her mind—Vedal charging in without hesitation, the look in his eyes when she'd offered to be a "distraction." She'd seen something there she couldn't quite parse. Something that made her stomach do odd little flips.

She glanced at him now, slouched against the opposite wall, the blue light of his phone screen reflecting off his eyes. Acting like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't just shown a completely different side of himself.

"So," she started, aiming for her usual teasing tone but missing by a mile. "That was quite the hero moment back there."

His thumb didn't pause in its scrolling. "Hardly."

"Oh come on," she pushed off the wall, crossing her arms. “You just went full badass. You can't pretend that wasn't a thing."

"I can pretend whatever I want." His voice carried that familiar dry edge, but something felt different. Tense.

"Why'd you do it?" The question slipped out before she could stop it. When he didn't answer, she pressed on. "And why wouldn't you let me help with my first idea? I could have handled those guys, you know. It's kind of my whole thing."

His scrolling stopped. For a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of city traffic.

"Your 'whole thing,'" he repeated, voice tight.

"I mean, yeah?" She gestured to herself with a familiar, practiced movement. "It's what I'm good at. What I'm for.”

Vedal lowered his phone. "That's not—" He cut himself off, jaw working. 

“What?” The words came out sharper than intended. “Just say it—“

"You protected us,” he cut in, the words harsh and sudden. "You didn't run."

Camila blinked, thrown off-balance. "I... what?"

"And now you're acting like all you're good for is—" He made a frustrated sound. "Like that's all you—" He couldn't seem to finish the thought.

A wry smile curved her lips. "Oh, please. No need to get worked up over my virtue." She spread her arms wide, a gesture both mocking and resigned. "That ship sailed eons ago. There's nothing they could have done to make me any more tainted than I already am."

His expression darkened. "That's not—"

"I'm literally a demon of lust, Vedal. Corruption incarnate. It's fine." She shrugged. "I know what I am."

"No, you don't," he muttered, looking back at his phone. "And you're not half as smart as you think you are if that's really all you see."

Something in his tone made her chest tight. "I..."

"You've got a brain. Sometimes you even use it.” He still wouldn't look at her. “You’re adaptable, tough. If I were in your place, trapped in a foreign land, I would’ve gone crazy. But you’ve dealt with it. And like I said, you saved us.”

A strange warmth bloomed beneath her ribs. She tried to smother it with a smirk. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you’re trying to get in my—“

"Don't," he cut her off. "Just... don't."

She watched him pretend to be absorbed in his phone, this prickly, difficult man who was a tad bit braver than she’d thought. The warmth in her chest spread, foreign and frightening and oddly sweet.

"Vedal?"

"What now?"

"Thanks." She paused, letting a hint of her usual mischief creep back into her tone. “I’m not going to give up on my seduction plans for you, though.”

His only response was an exasperated groan, but she caught the slight upward twitch of his mouth before he hid it behind his phone. For once, she decided to let him have the last word.

Well, almost.

"Your life would be so boring without me,” she said.

"My life would be peaceful without you."

"Exactly. Boring."

But he didn't actually leave, and she didn't either. They sat in surprisingly comfortable silence, both pretending not to notice how something fundamental had shifted in the space of one conversation—and both pretending not to notice the way her tail had stopped its restless flicking, curled contentedly against the brick wall.

Chapter Text

Vedal woke slowly, awareness creeping in piece by piece. First came the familiar pressure of Camila's tail across his ribs, then the weight of her head against his shoulder. The morning sun filtered through the blinds, painting stripes across their shared couch.

He blinked at the ceiling, taking stock. His back ached less than usual.

"Camila," he said. "Your tail is digging into my ribs again."

She stirred slightly, pink curls tickling his chin. "Mm... what time is it?"

“Late enough that I can see a blue sky outside.”

"Too many words," she grumbled, but her tail did shift away from his ribs. Small mercies. She didn't move her head though, seemingly content to use his shoulder as a pillow.

The room was quiet for a moment, just the sound of morning traffic drifting in from outside. Vedal found himself oddly reluctant to break the peace. But...

"We should get up."

"Why?" Camila asked, finally opening her eyes. "Got somewhere to be?"

"Besides not here? The bed's still an option, you know."

That got her attention. She propped herself up on one elbow, fixing him with an amused look. "Oh? Are you finally admitting defeat in our great couch war?"

"Just making an observation," Vedal said dryly. "Though your interpretation is telling."

"You're the one who brought it up," she smirked, then ruined the effect by yawning widely. "Besides, I'm getting used to our little arrangement."

"You mean you're getting used to using me as a personal heater?"

"Says the human icicle who steals all the blankets."

Vedal glanced down at the tangled mess of blankets wrapped mostly around him. "Fair point."

Camila's eyebrows shot up. "Did you just... agree with me?"

"Must be sleep deprived," he deadpanned, finally sitting up. His spine popped in protest, reminding him why the couch wasn't anyone's first choice. "Speaking of sleep, we should check on Filian. After yesterday..."

The playful atmosphere shifted. Camila sat up properly, her tail going still. “I suppose. She seemed fine, though.”

"Better to make sure."

She nodded, then a glint appeared in her eye. "And while we're there..."

“No.”

“I didn’t even get to ask—“

“No.”

“I need the next volume of that manga! I’ve read this volume five times!”

“The demon one?”

“Yeah, I—“ She paused, narrowing her eyes at him. "Wait, you were actually listening when I talked about that?"

Vedal stood, pointedly not answering. "We should get going if we want to catch her before work."

Camila scrambled up after him, grinning. "You were listening! You care about the demon love story saga!”

"I care about getting feeling back in my arm, which you used as a pillow for the past six hours."

"Aw, you like it,” She sidled closer, tail swishing mischievously. “You’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

Vedal gave her a flat look as he headed for the door. "I'm missing my circulation."

The morning air bit at Vedal's exposed skin, making him miss the cocoon of warmth he'd left behind in his apartment. He tugged his jacket closer, sneaking another glance at Camila. She was drowning in his clothes again – hoodie hanging past her thighs, sweatpants rolled up at the ankles to keep her from tripping. The hood was pulled low, casting shadows that concealed the telltale bumps of her horns, though he caught the occasional ripple of movement beneath the fabric where her tail refused to stay still.

But Vedal’s mind was elsewhere. Filian's face – pale, wide-eyed, trembling – haunted him. They'd gotten there in time, but barely. The what-ifs gnawed at his conscience.

"You're being paranoid," Camila said, her voice muffled by the hood. "She probably just needed a day to sleep it off."

"You didn't see her face." Vedal quickened his pace, the familiar neon signs of Joey's Corner Store beckoning ahead. "Not after they—" He swallowed the rest of that sentence. "I just need to know she's okay."

The electronic chime announced their arrival, its cheerful tone at odds with the hollow fluorescent lighting that cast everything in a sickly pallor. Vedal scanned the empty aisles, hope dying as each one revealed nothing but neat rows of merchandise.

Behind the counter, a man with deep circles under his eyes mechanically restocked a chip display. Vedal approached, clearing his throat. "Hey, is Filian working today?"

The man – Joey himself, according to his name tag – looked up with the weary expression of someone who'd rather be anywhere else. "Called in sick this morning."

Vedal's stomach clenched. "Did she say what was wrong?"

"Just that she wasn't feeling well." Joey's shrug suggested this was above his pay grade.

"We need her address," Vedal blurted out, then winced at how it sounded. "I mean – we're friends. We just want to check on her."

Joey's expression hardened. "Store policy. Can't give out employee information."

"Please." The word caught in Vedal's throat. "After what happened—"

Camila stepped forward, subtly nudging Vedal aside. The transformation was remarkable – gone was her usual sharp-edged demeanor, replaced by something softer, almost vulnerable. She pushed the hood back just enough to meet Joey's eyes, letting a hint of worry show through her carefully constructed mask.

"We wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," she said, her voice carrying a note of sincerity that even Vedal rarely heard. "You know Filian – she'd never miss work without a good reason."

Vedal raised an eyebrow. Camila didn’t know Filian well enough to say that for sure. It was a gamble.

Joey wavered, glancing between them. Vedal held his breath as something in the man's expression shifted.

"Christ," Joey muttered, reaching for a receipt pad. "If anyone asks, you didn't get this from me." He scribbled quickly, tore off the paper, and thrust it toward them.

"Thank you," Camila said.

Outside, Vedal stared at her. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" Camila asked innocently, tucking the paper into his hoodie's pocket. Her usual smirk crept back into place. "Make people see what they want to see?" She bumped his shoulder with hers. "Practice. Now come on – your princess awaits her rescue party."

Vedal rolled his eyes, but couldn't quite suppress his own smile. "She'd hate hearing you call her that."

"Then we'd better not keep her waiting long enough to find out."

The apartment building was a nondescript brick structure, tucked away on a quiet side street. Vedal and Camila climbed the worn steps to Filian's floor, the air growing stale and slightly musty. Vedal knocked on the door, trying to ignore Camila's deliberate shoulder bump as she squeezed past him to lean against the wall.

"Worried about her?” she teased, batting her eyes at him.

“Of course,” Vedal replied flatly, not bothering to look at her. "And move over, you're blocking the hallway."

The door swung open before Camila could retort, revealing Filian in fuzzy pajama pants and a t-shirt, controller in hand and the sounds of video game combat spilling out behind her. Her face lit up. "Oh my god, what are you guys doing here?” She paused. “Wait, how did you get my address—“

"We were in the neighborhood," Vedal said, at the same time Camila announced, "We were worried sick!"

Vedal rolled his eyes. "We weren't worried sick."

"Speak for yourself," Camila pouted, draping herself dramatically across the doorframe. "I barely slept!"

"You were literally snoring this morning."

Filian bounced on her toes, looking between them with growing delight. "Wait wait wait - this morning? Are you guys, like, living together?"

"No," Vedal said.

"Yes," Camila said simultaneously, grinning as Vedal shot her an irritated look.

"Oh my god!" Filian squealed, pulling them both inside. "That's so cute! And Camila, I love that you're still wearing the horns from the other night! The whole demon girlfriend cosplay thing is perfect."

"Uh, thanks," Camila touched one horn self-consciously. "That manga is really good."

“I know, right? I love that story.” Filian flopped onto her couch, unpausing her game. "Want to try? I've been stuck on this boss all morning."

Vedal watched with barely concealed amusement as Camila eyed the controller like it might explode. "I'm not really... I mean, I don't usually..."

"She's terrible at games," Vedal supplied helpfully, earning a glare that would have terrified him if he didn't know her so well.

"I am not! I just don’t play a lot.” Camila settled onto the couch, deliberately close to Vedal, who immediately scooted away.

Filian's eyes tracked the movement, her smile widening. "You guys are adorable. How long have you been together?"

"We're not—" Vedal started.

"Oh, ages," Camila interrupted, reaching over to pat his knee. "He's just shy about it."

"I will literally push you off this couch."

"So violent! And in front of our friend?"

Filian giggled, but her expression turned more serious. "But guys, about last night... some really weird stuff happened. Like, those police sirens that just disappeared?"

"Probably just drove past," Vedal said quickly.

"No no, they were right there! And then..." Filian leaned forward, eyes wide. "I swear I saw something weird when we were running. Like, something dark and spiky behind Camila’s…”

"Must have been shadows," Vedal cut in, his voice carefully neutral. "It was pretty dark."

"Aw, come on Vedal," Camila drawled, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Maybe I should show her my..." She trailed off as Vedal fixed her with a sharp look.

"Show me what?" Filian asked eagerly.

"Nothing," Vedal said firmly. "She's just being annoying, as usual."

"Me? Annoying? I would never!" She slid closer to Vedal on the couch. "I'm just trying to be honest with our friend..."

Filian watched them with surprising intensity, then reached out and touched Camila's hand. She pulled back with a start. "Wow, you're like, really warm. Almost burning! Are you feeling okay?"

Vedal stood up abruptly. "We should probably get going—"

"Wait!" Filian jumped up too, her eyes suddenly sharp and focused despite her cheerful tone. "Before you go, I just... I need to ask something. And please don't think I'm crazy, but..." She took a deep breath, looking directly at Camila. "You guys are lying, aren't you? I think I've figured out what's going on." Her face broke into an excited grin. "You're an angel, aren't you?"

This time, Vedal couldn't quite hide his snort of laughter at the outraged expression that flashed across Camila's face.

Chapter Text

Camila's jaw dropped. An angel? The word hit her like a slap across the face. Here she was, a creature of darkness, a mistress of seduction, and this human had the audacity to mistake her for one of those... those...

"I am not an angel!" The words erupted from her in a burst of infernal indignation. "I'm a succubus! There's a rather significant difference—think less harp music, more heavy metal!" Her tail lashed behind her like an angry cat's. "Honestly, do I look like I spend my time strumming harps on clouds?"

Filian's eyes grew wide as saucers, but instead of the expected terror, they sparkled with unbridled delight. "Oh my god, I knew it!" She bounced on her toes, hands clasped beneath her chin. "I mean, I wasn't sure what you were exactly, but I knew you weren't human!"

Camila turned to Vedal, seeking solidarity in what was clearly a disaster of biblical proportions. Instead, she found him standing there with his face buried in one hand, looking for all the world like a man questioning every life choice that had led him to this moment.

"You couldn't just... let it go, could you?" he mumbled through his fingers.

"Let it go?" Camila hissed, keeping her voice low enough that Filian—still doing what could only be described as a victory dance—wouldn't hear. "She thought I was a celestial. Do you have any idea what that would do to my reputation in the Infernal Court?"

Vedal lowered his hand just enough to fix her with a deadpan stare. "Your reputation of getting mistaken for heavenly beings? Because I've got to say, you're really nailing that one."

"I am a being of temptation!" Camila's voice rose dangerously close to a shriek before she reined it in. "A daughter of darkness! A—"

"Can you do magic?" Filian interrupted, practically vibrating with excitement. "Or, like, tempt people into sins? Oh! Can you turn into smoke? Is that a thing succubi do?"

Camila opened her mouth, ready to launch into a detailed dissertation on the ancient and subtle arts of demonic seduction, but Vedal cut her off.

"She mostly just hoards my food and reads manga,” he said dryly.

Camila's elbow found his ribs with unerring accuracy. "I do not hoard anything! And I’ll have you know that manga is of the highest art—“

Filian clapped her hands in delight. "This is amazing! You're like... like an odd-couple sitcom! 'My Roommate is a Succubus'—I'd totally watch that!"

"I am not," Camila said through gritted teeth, "sitcom material. I am a harbinger of—"

“Burnt food and stolen pillows,” Vedal supplied helpfully.

Camila's left eye developed a dangerous twitch. She turned to him slowly, her expression promising retribution of the most creative and thorough variety. "When this is over," she whispered, "we're going to have a long talk about the proper way to address a demon of my standing."

"Of course," Vedal agreed pleasantly. "Right after you read the second volume of Filian’s manga, right?”

Filian's delighted giggle did nothing to improve Camila's mood. This was, without question, the most humiliating moment in her six centuries of existence.

Filian blinked several times, her mind working to process everything she'd just heard. "So, let me get this straight," she said, counting off points on her fingers. "Vedal, you opened a magic book—"

"It wasn't just any magic book," Vedal interrupted, but Filian silenced him with a wave of her hand.

"—and summoned Camila, who happens to be a succubus," she continued, unable to hide the excitement creeping into her voice. "She's supposed to fulfill your desires... but you're not interested?"

"Correct," Vedal confirmed with the weary resignation of someone who'd explained this far too many times.

"And now you're stuck together because you can't go more than a hundred meters apart?"

"Ten meters," Camila corrected sharply. "Practically ten meters. It might as well be ten centimeters for all the freedom it allows." She shot Vedal a withering glare, which he answered with a roll of his eyes.

Silence settled over the room as Filian absorbed this information. Then her gaze narrowed, fixing on Camila with sudden intensity. "Hold on..." Her eyes swept over Camila's current attire – an oversized t-shirt and baggy pajama pants clearly pilfered from Vedal's wardrobe. "You've been wearing the same clothes for days now."

Camila shifted uncomfortably. Building a fashionable wardrobe wasn't exactly straightforward when you were magically tethered to a programmer with all the fashion sense of a desktop computer.

Horror dawned on Filian's face. "Oh my god," she whispered, then louder, "Oh my god. You don't have any clothes of your own, do you?"

Camila muttered something unintelligible, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"VEDAL!" Filian's voice cracked like thunder. "HOW COULD YOU?"

Vedal startled. "What did I do now?"

"You summoned a succubus into our dimension," Filian said, voice trembling with indignation, "and you couldn't even be bothered to buy her proper clothes? She's been wearing your hand-me-downs like some kind of... of... interdimensional refugee!"

Camila watched the exchange with growing amazement. Of all possible reactions to her presence, outrage over her lacking wardrobe hadn't made her top ten list. Or her top hundred, for that matter.

"It's not like I deliberately deprived her of clothing," Vedal protested, hands raised defensively. "The topic just... never came up."

"Never came up?!" Filian's voice scaled higher with each word. "She's a person, Vedal! Demon or not, she deserves her own clothes!"

"She barely goes outside anyway," Vedal pointed out, attempting to reason with his increasingly agitated friend.

"Because she's magically bound to stay within ten meters of you!" Filian jabbed an accusatory finger in his direction. "How exactly is she supposed to shop for clothes when she's practically handcuffed to your coding chair?"

"Well," Vedal mused, "she could use a glamour. You know, illusion magic? She could appear to wear whatever she wants."

Camila blinked. He wasn't wrong – conjuring illusory outfits was well within her capabilities.

"That is NOT the same thing!" Filian declared, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "She needs real clothes! Things she can actually feel! Living in constant illusions is... is... it's basically sensory deprivation!"

Camila raised an eyebrow, impressed despite herself. Filian's passionate defense of her right to tangible fashion was both unexpected and oddly touching.

Filian's expression softened as she turned to Camila. "Next week, when I'm off work, we're going shopping. No arguments." She spun back to face Vedal, eyes narrowing. "And you're coming with us. And you're paying."

Vedal's groan echoed through the apartment.

"Don't give me that," Filian warned. "Consider it reparations for dimensional kidnapping."

Camila felt a smile tugging at her lips.

Eventually, the house visit came to an end. Filian bid them farewell and Camila and Vedal headed home, the sun dipping below the horizon.

Camila stopped. She groaned.

“I forgot to ask her for the next volume of the manga!”

Vedal snorted, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Tragic. Guess you’ll just have to… not read it.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Camilla deadpanned, her tail flicking irritably. “Real funny, Vedal. It’s a cliffhanger!”

Back at the house, the familiar routine commenced. They both staked their claim on the couch, a silent battle for dominance over the limited space. Camila sprawled dramatically, attempting to nudge Vedal off with her elbow. He simply shifted slightly, a low hum of annoyance vibrating in his chest.

“Move over, you’re taking up all the space,” she grumbled, shoving him again.

“I’m perfectly comfortable,” Vedal retorted, not budging an inch. “Perhaps you’re the one who should relocate.”

Camila huffed, crossing her arms. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re persistent,” Vedal replied dryly, closing his eyes. The couch dipped as Camila finally settled next to him. A moment of silence stretched between them.

“You know,” Camila said after a while, her voice low, “you could at least pretend to be interested in something I like.”

Vedal didn't open his eyes. “Why would I pretend?”

Camila sighed dramatically, turning her back to him. The silence returned, thick with her frustration. Eventually, they both drifted off to sleep, a tangled mess of limbs and blankets on the too-small couch.

The next morning, a sliver of sunlight peeked through the curtains, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Camila blinked awake, groggily pushing herself up. Her eyes landed on the coffee table, and she froze. There, nestled amongst a few stray coasters, sat the second volume of the manga. It was pristine, the glossy cover reflecting the morning light. Beside it lay a strip of clear packaging tape, still attached to a piece of cardboard, evidence of a recent shipment.

A slow, wry smile spread across Camila’s face as she turned her gaze to the couch. Vedal was still sound asleep, his face relaxed and peaceful, a stark contrast to his usual snarky demeanor. She shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

Chapter Text

Vedal sighed, scrolling through his streaming service. He'd had a particularly grueling day debugging a particularly stubborn piece of code, and all he wanted was to zone out to some mindless background noise. "Movie night," he'd muttered, more to himself than anyone.

"Movie night?" Camila's purple eyes lit up with interest. She'd been perched on the arm of the couch, filing her nails with a small, obsidian file. "Oh hey, is this one of those human things where you guys just sit around eating junk food and watching stuff?"

Vedal pinched the bridge of his nose. "Something like that. It's a way to... relax."

"Relax?" Camila repeated, looking puzzled. "You humans are weird. Why not just... chill?" She waved her hand vaguely in the air.

"Because staring at a wall is boring," Vedal said dryly. "Now, any preferences?"

"Preferences?" Camila tilted her head, then snapped her fingers. "Oh! I've heard about those super sappy love stories! You know, where everyone's crying and someone ends up dying dramatically?" She threw herself backward with exaggerated flair, sprawling across the arm of the couch.

Vedal snorted. "I was thinking more along the lines of... something less over-the-top." He scrolled past a rom-com, then paused on a horror movie. "How about this?"

The cover depicted a shadowy figure lurking in the woods, a single, terrified eye peering out from behind a tree. Camila's theatrical pose dropped as she leaned forward with interest. "Horror? Wait, so humans actually get kicks out of scaring themselves? That's kinda messed up."

"Again, something like that," Vedal mumbled, clicking 'play.' He settled back on the couch, pulling a throw blanket over his legs. Camila flopped down beside him, practically bouncing with excitement.

The movie began with a slow, ominous build-up. A group of teenagers were camping in a remote forest, oblivious to the ancient evil lurking nearby. Camila watched, completely absorbed.

"Okay, but why the forest though?" she whispered during a quiet scene. "It's wet and gross and full of bugs. Like, there's gotta be better places to hang out."

Vedal sighed. "It's part of the plot."

"The plot?" Camila frowned. "What, like they're planning something?"

"No. It's... the story." Vedal struggled to explain. "It's what makes the movie... a movie."

Camila gave him a blank look. "You guys are so weird."

The first jump scare hit. A sudden burst of loud music and a grotesque face flashing across the screen. Camila yelped, jumping off the couch and nearly scratching Vedal's arm off in the process.

"Holy crap!" she squeaked, eyes wide. "What was that?!"

Vedal calmly patted his arm where she'd nearly drawn blood. "That was a jump scare. It's meant to startle you."

"Startle?" Camila echoed, still looking shaken. "Is this some weird way of messing with people?"

"No," Vedal said, resisting the urge to facepalm. "It's entertainment."

The movie continued, a series of suspenseful scenes and jump scares. Camila reacted to each one with a mix of yelps, gasps, and confused commentary.

"Oh come on!" she hissed during a chase scene. "They're running straight at the monster! Like, hello? Maybe try running away?"

"Because then there wouldn't be a movie," Vedal muttered, rubbing his temples.

"But it makes zero sense!" Camila protested. "Who does that?"

As the movie reached its climax, with the surviving characters facing off against the monstrous antagonist, Camila leaned forward, totally engrossed.

"So like," she whispered, barely audible. "Is this monster supposed to mean something? Like, deep stuff about society or whatever?"

Vedal blinked. He hadn't expected such a thoughtful observation. "I... I don't think so. It's just a monster."

Camila deflated slightly. "Oh. Bummer."

When the credits rolled, Camila sat in silence for a moment, processing what she'd just witnessed. Then, she turned to Vedal with a contemplative look.

"So humans," she said slowly. "You guys make fake scary stuff just to freak yourselves out... for fun? That's wild. And kinda stupid."

Vedal simply shrugged. "That's humanity for you."

Camila grinned mischievously. "You know what? I think I need to check out more of these movies."

The moment Vedal opened his the bathroom door, his sinuses staged a revolt. The air was thick with what was probably meant to be pine, but smelled more like someone had weaponized a car freshener factory.

"I cleaned!" Camila announced, throwing her arms wide with demonic pride. She was grinning like she'd just conquered a small nation.

Vedal took in the scene with growing horror. Every surface gleamed with an unnatural shine, like someone had shellacked his entire living room. There were suspicious scorch marks near the power outlet, and was that... smoke?

"What," he asked with deliberate calm, "did you use?"

"Oh! That yellow stuff in the big bottle." Camila picked it up, squinting at the label. "Something about... industrial strength? It smelled very effective."

Vedal's eye twitched. "Did you... dilute it?"

"Di-lute?" She tested the word like an unfamiliar spell. "Is that some kind of human ritual? I wanted everything extra clean, so I used it at full power!"

"Of course you did." Vedal dragged a finger across his table. It stuck with a concerning squelch. "And the scorch marks?"

"Ah, yes!" Camila brightened. "There was this super stubborn stain. But!" She proudly held up a steel wool pad like a trophy. "This metal scratchy thing worked wonders!"

"On the carpet."

"The stain is gone, isn't it?"

"So is half the carpet."

A tendril of smoke caught his attention, curling up from behind the couch like a distress signal. With mounting dread, Vedal peered over the back. His laptop lay in a puddle of something that looked radioactive, its screen flickering like a demon having a seizure.

"Please tell me you didn't—"

"It was so dusty," Camila cut in, practically glowing with helpfulness. "And the bottle said 'all surfaces'!"

Vedal closed his eyes and counted to ten. In Latin. "Camila," he said with forced patience, "we need to have a talk about what 'all surfaces' means. Hint: it doesn't include anything that plugs into a wall."

"But dust is bad! The magazine said a clean home is a happy home!"

"Stop. Reading. Magazines."

The fumes were getting to him. Vedal stumbled to the nearest window, wrestling with the frame. It didn't budge. He pushed harder.

CRACK!

The window flew open with vengeful force, introducing his forehead to solid wood at high velocity. He staggered back, clutching his head and questioning every life choice that had led to this moment.

Camila hovered nearby, literally hovering, about six inches off the ground. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fantastic," Vedal mumbled through his fingers. "My apartment is now a superfund site, my laptop's been chemically exfoliated, and I probably have a concussion. Just another Tuesday with a demon roommate."

"I was only trying to help!" Camila pouted, dropping back to the floor. "This is what I get for attempting to embrace domestic responsibilities!"

"Camila." Vedal looked her dead in the eye. "The next time you feel an urge to 'help,' please, for the love of whatever dark god you serve... don't."

"Fine!" She threw her hands up. "See if I ever try to be a productive member of this household again! I'll just go back to my usual activities, like painting my nails with blood and practicing my evil laugh!"

"Promise?"

She simply smirked.

Vedal sighed, surveying the chemical warfare zone that used to be his apartment. He needed a new laptop, several air purifiers, and probably a hazmat suit. At least the stain was gone. Along with most of the carpet. And possibly several years off his life expectancy.

He looked like death warmed over. Not the interesting kind Camila was familiar with from Hell, but the mundane human variety. He'd spent hours dealing with her... cleaning incident, alternating between scrubbing chemical residue off surfaces and coaxing his half-melted laptop back to life. Now he sat hunched over his desk, bathed in monitor glow, attacking his keyboard like it had personally offended him.

Humans had this weird ritual when they were tired – something about beans and hot water that produced a bitter drink. She'd watched Vedal perform this "coffee" ceremony countless times, usually while rolling her eyes at the complexity of it all. (Seriously, why not just use a rejuvenation spell? Oh right, humans.)

Still... maybe...

Camila crept into the kitchen, eyeing the coffee machine like it was an ancient artifact of questionable origin. So many buttons. So many potential ways to mess this up. Again.

Step one: beans. She found the jar and peered inside. They looked like tiny dark stones and smelled vaguely cursed. She dumped a handful into the grinder, then stared at it suspiciously. There was a button with what looked like a torture device on it. Perfect.

The grinder screamed to life. Camila yelped and nearly dropped it, watching in horror as it violently pulverized the beans into submission. At least the smell was... interesting. Like burnt offerings, but less screamy.

Water next. Kettle. Stove. Fire. She could handle fire – that was practically home territory. She watched the water bubble with probably too much intensity, jumping when the kettle started its banshee impression.

The real challenge: combining everything without creating another disaster. She found one of those paper cone things and stuffed it with probably way too much ground coffee. Then came the hot water, which she poured with the careful precision of someone defusing a bomb.

She had to test it. One sip and – oh sweet darkness below, that was BITTER. She dumped in sugar. More sugar. A splash of milk. Another splash. It was still an assault on her taste buds, but maybe humans liked that sort of thing?

Camila approached Vedal's desk like she was delivering a potentially unstable potion. "Here," she muttered, setting down the mug. "It's... that bean drink you like."

He didn't respond immediately, which was probably good because she was already contemplating teleporting away. Finally, he looked up, blinked at the mug, and took a sip.

His face did something complicated. "This is terrible."

Camila's wings drooped slightly. Metaphorically.

But then... he took another sip. And another. She watched in fascination as he drained the entire mug of her caffeinated crime against humanity.

"Barely drinkable," he announced, setting down the empty mug. But there was something in his voice that wasn't quite as sharp as usual, and the corner of his mouth twitched in what might have been a smile.

"Whatever," Camila muttered, turning away before he could see her own lips curving upward. "Just don't expect me to be your personal barista or anything."

It wasn't an apology. She didn't do those. But maybe... maybe it was close enough.

Behind her, she heard him pick up the mug again, probably checking if there was somehow more of her terrible coffee inside. Humans were weird like that.

For once, the apartment was peaceful. The industrial-strength cleaning disaster had finally aired out, leaving behind only the ghost of yesterday's coffee experiment. Sunlight spilled through the recently un-cursed window, painting warm stripes across the floor.

Camila sprawled across the couch, nose buried in a manga. Her purple eyes darted across the pages as she followed what appeared to be an epic battle between a spiky-haired hero and... some kind of tentacle monster? The plot had somehow pivoted from soft romance to action adventure. Human entertainment was weird. On the other side of the room, Vedal typed away at his mostly-functional laptop, the keyboard clicking like a metronome of focused coding.

BANG!

The door exploded inward with the subtlety of a demon parade. Camila levitated a foot off the couch with a strangled yelp, her manga going airborne. Vedal's hands crashed down on his keyboard, adding several lines of random characters to his code.

"GOOD MORNING, SUNSHINE SQUAD!"

Framed in the doorway like an anime character making their grand entrance stood Filian. Her overalls practically glowed, matched only by the radioactive brightness of her smile. The cartoon cat on her shirt seemed to be vibrating with the same manic energy she exuded.

"Mall! Day!" She punctuated each word by bouncing on her toes. "Remember? The thing you promised to do? The social activity you can't escape from because I have recordings? That mall day!"

Vedal's head thunked against his desk with a dull thud. "That was today?"

"Every day is mall day if you believe hard enough!" Filian declared, somehow already across the room and tugging at Vedal's sleeve. "Come on, come on, come on! The stores await!"

Chapter Text

The mall assaulted Camila's senses with a symphony of chaos - blaring music, clashing perfumes, and endless waves of humanity shifting around her like a tide. She'd experienced sensory overload before, in far more... infernal settings. But this was an entirely different flavor of overwhelming.

She found herself unconsciously drifting closer to Vedal as they walked, using him as an anchor point in the chaos. He noticed - he always noticed - but didn't comment on it, just adjusted his stride to match hers while continuing to scroll through his phone.

"Someone's going to notice," he finally said, after they passed their third group of staring teenagers.

"Notice what?" Filian piped up from ahead, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. The store clerk had appointed herself their personal shopping guide with an enthusiasm that bordered on alarming.

"The bat horns," Vedal said dryly. "The ears. The general..." he waved his free hand vaguely in Camila's direction, "demonic aura."

"Please," Filian scoffed, gesturing to a nearby group sporting an impressive array of cosplay accessories. "You're not even the most supernatural-looking person in this food court. Speaking of which..." She paused by a pretzel stand, eyeing them both. "When's the last time either of you ate?"

"This morning, at the corner store," Camila said.

"Where we get most of our food."

"I mean, I tried cooking—"

"Don't remind me."

"Oh come on," Camila protested. "The breakfast wasn't that bad."

Vedal groaned and tapped on his phone with unnecessary force. "You burned toast. How do you even burn toast? The toaster does all the work."

"I was trying to be nice!" she said. "Besides, my coffee-making skills have improved. You didn't complain about your midnight coffee during your coding marathon last night."

"That's because caffeine is caffeine," Vedal muttered, though there was a hint of appreciation in his voice. "At least you didn't spill it on my keyboard like the eggs on my papers."

Filian's eyes widened. "Wait, you make him breakfast? And midnight coffee?"

"Tried. Once," Vedal clarified about the breakfast. "We ordered takeout that day."

"The toast was only a little burned," Camila grumbled. "And you didn't seem to mind taste last night when we were watching that terrible sci-fi movie you picked."

"You fell asleep halfway through. On my shoulder."

"Because it was boring! And you hogged all the blankets again."

"Our blankets," he corrected automatically. "And you always end up stealing them back anyway."

Filian stopped walking abruptly. "Your what now?"

"The couch," Vedal said, still not looking up. "We share it. It's really uncomfortable actually. Too small."

"You... share..." Filian's eyes went wide. "You sleep on the same-"

"He steals all the blankets," Camila cut in.

"You kick," Vedal replied. "And you always steal my pillow."

"Because you steal the blankets! At least I don't pretend I don't know anything about random manga appearing on the kitchen table."

Vedal became intensely focused on his phone. "The corner store must have had a sale."

"Oh, so the corner store just happened to have the exact series I was reading on your tablet? And just happened to deliver it to our house!?”

"Must be a coincidence."

Filian looked between them, her expression growing increasingly incredulous. "Let me get this straight. You share a couch, make each other midnight coffee, watch movies together before bed... and you don't see how that might look?"

"You're overthinking it," they said in unison, then glared at each other.

"It's just practical," Vedal added, still not looking up from his phone. "The apartment's small."

"And I still haven't figured out human sleeping habits," Camila said.

"Right," Filian said slowly. "Practical. Of course. Nothing romantic about midnight coffee and shared blankets at all."

Their familiar argument was interrupted by something catching Camila's eye - a simple dark blue sweater hanging on a nearby rack, paired with some well-fitted jeans. Nothing special. Nothing a demon would normally wear. Nothing like the dramatic lace number she currently had on. But something about it called to her.

She grabbed the items without really thinking about it, retreating to the fitting room before she could second-guess herself. The sweater was soft, the jeans comfortable. She looked... normal. Human, almost. It was terrifying and thrilling all at once.

When she emerged this time, something in the air changed. Vedal's phone lowered slowly, and for once, his carefully maintained wall of disinterest... cracked. Just for a moment. But a moment was all it took.

"Well?" she asked, her voice quieter than intended.

He swallowed. Looked away. Looked back. "It suits you," he said.

The words hung between them, heavier than they had any right to be. Camila felt oddly exposed, and not because of the clothes.

Filian's hand closed around her wrist. "Excuse us," she said, her voice filled with an almost manic urgency as she pulled Camila into an empty fitting room. The door had barely clicked shut when she turned, her expression a mix of revelation and barely-contained frustration.

"You two," she said, "are falling in love, and I cannot believe I'm the only one who sees it. You're literally living a romantic comedy and you're both completely oblivious!"

"You two are falling in love," Filian repeated, more firmly this time.

Camila rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. "Right. Because he's been so receptive to my charms so far?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, trust me, I tried." Camila started counting on her fingers. "The sultry voice? He asked if I was coming down with something. The seductive touch? He brushed me off. I even tried the whole domestic thing - you know, the whole 'perfect housewife' routine?"

"How'd that go?"

"You know about the aftermath of the breakfast incident." Camila crossed her arms.

"Okay, but that's my point!" Filian bounced slightly. "You stopped trying to seduce him!"

"Because it wasn't working."

"No, because you started just being yourself instead. And now you share a couch and you make him coffee-“

“It was just an apology for messing up his apartment!”

“I bet you make him his favorite!”

“I do it purely to annoy him." Camila examined her nails with exaggerated interest. "Besides, even if - and this is purely hypothetical - even if there was anything there, which there isn't... I mean, come on. Look at what I am."

"A demon?"

"A succubus." Camila's voice was flat. "Do you know how many souls I've corrupted? How many men I've-"

"And how many of them did you make breakfast for?"

Camila faltered. "That's... that's not relevant."

"How many of them watched movies with you?”

“It’s just cause we’re both bored—“

"How many of them did you share a couch with?"

"Okay, first of all, that couch situation is purely about stubbornness-"

"How many of them got to see you in a plain blue sweater?"

Camila opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "Why are you so certain that I like him?"

Filian just stared at her, deadpan.

"That's not- ugh." Camila threw up her hands. "Look, even if - and this is still completely hypothetical - even if there was something there... I have to go back. When the contract's fulfilled, I go back to the demon realm. That's how it works. That's how it's always worked."

"And if you don't want to?"

"Of course I want to! Why wouldn't I want to?" Camila's laugh was just a touch too sharp. "It's not like I enjoy our dumb arguments or the way he always buys the next volume of what I’m reading or his stupid little smirk…” She stopped, horrified at how much she'd revealed.

"You were saying?" Filian's grin was insufferable.

"We're done here." Camila reached for the door handle. "This conversation is ridiculous."

"Just... think about it, okay? Because the way he looked at you in that sweater?"

Camila paused, her hand on the door.

"That wasn't a man seeing a demon who's trying to seduce him," Filian said softly. "That was something else entirely."

Camila yanked the door open, desperate to escape this conversation and the dangerous thoughts it was stirring up. She wasn't falling in love with Vedal. She couldn't be. And he certainly wasn't falling in love with her.

...was he?

No. Absolutely not. She pushed the thought away as she strode back into the store. She had a contract to fulfill, eventually, somehow. Everything else was just... complicated. That's all it was. Complicated.

She pointedly ignored the way her heart jumped when she saw him still waiting, phone in hand, exactly where she'd left him.

And then he heard who he was calling and her heart sunk.

“Anny.”

Chapter Text

Camila's heart hammered against her ribs as she spotted Vedal by the neon-lit kiosk, his phone pressed to his ear. When Anny's name flashed across his screen, bile rose in her throat. She couldn't let him keep talking to her. Not after what she'd done.

Her feet moved before her brain could catch up. "Vedal!" The word burst from her lips too loud, too desperate. He glanced up, raising an eyebrow as he held up a finger - wait. But waiting wasn't an option, not now.

"Your hoodie," she blurted, gesturing wildly. "It's inside out. The seams are showing and everything." Her voice cracked on the last word, betraying her.

Vedal's eyes narrowed, tracking her nervous movements. "I'm on the phone, Camila," he said, voice flat as he angled away from her. But she caught it - that slight tilt of his head, the way his gaze lingered. He was starting to notice something was off.

"But it's important!" She lunged forward, grabbing his drawstring. Her fingers trembled against the fabric, and she prayed he wouldn't notice. "You can't walk around like this. People will think..." She scrambled for words. "They'll think you got dressed in the dark!"

He swatted her hand away, irritation crackling in the air between them. "Camila, stop. I'm talking to Anny."

That name again. Like a knife between her ribs. She forced a laugh that sounded hollow even to her own ears. "Anny? Oh, tell her hi! Actually, you know what? Tell her you're super busy. With me. Because we're hanging out. Right now." The words tumbled out, each one more desperate than the last.

"What's your problem?" His voice dropped low, dangerous. Into the phone: "Anny, hold on a second."

Panic surged through her veins like ice water. Before she could think better of it, she snatched a scarf from a nearby display - a hideous thing in electric green that hurt her eyes. Her hands shook as she draped it over his shoulders, the synthetic fabric catching on his stubble. "This! This is perfect for you. It really brings out your... everything!"

Vedal went still. The kind of still that meant trouble. "Camila." Her name fell from his lips like a warning. "What are you doing?"

She was unraveling, and she knew it. Could feel the threads of her composure slipping through her fingers. "I'm helping! You're always so... so serious. Live a little!" Her voice pitched higher with each word, hysteria creeping in at the edges.

"She's flirting!" Filian materialized beside them, her own jacket creating a strobing effect under the kiosk lights. She threw an arm around Camila's shoulders, but the usually comforting gesture felt like an anchor dragging her down. "He's clueless. Tale as old as time!" Before either could react, she'd plunked a gaudy sunhat on Vedal's head and snapped a photo.

The hat hit the ground with a soft thump as Vedal jerked away. "Filian," he snapped, "not now." His attention swung back to Camila, and she felt pinned beneath his stare. "Why are you acting so weird?"

He knows he knows he knows. The thought pulsed behind her eyes like a migraine. "Weird? I'm not weird! You're weird!" She latched onto his arm, steering him toward a sunglasses display with the desperate energy of someone steering a ship away from rocks. "These would look amazing on you. Life-changing. Revolutionary!"

He wrenched free of her grip. "Camila." Her name came through clenched teeth. "I'm on the phone. Whatever this is, it can wait."

"It can't!" The words tore from her throat, raw and revealing. She grabbed a pair of rhinestone-covered monstrosities, thrusting them at his face like a shield. "These. Now. Trust me!"

Vedal took the glasses slowly, deliberately. Set them down with a soft click that somehow echoed like a gunshot. "You're hiding something." Not a question. A verdict.

The air left her lungs in a rush. "I'm not—I wouldn't—" But the lies died on her tongue, tasting like ash.

His eyes, usually warm brown, had gone dark. He held up the phone, still connected to Anny. "Then why are you so desperate to keep me from talking to her?"

Before she could scrape together a response, he raised the phone to his ear. "Anny? Yeah, I'm here. What were you saying?"

Camila watched the truth crawl across his features like a shadow. Confusion. Disbelief. Understanding. Betrayal. Each emotion hit her like a physical blow.

The phone lowered. His eyes met hers, and she saw something in them crack. "We're going home," he said, voice empty of everything - anger, disappointment, warmth. Just... nothing.

"Vedal, please, I can explain—"

"No." The word fell between them like a wall. He turned and walked away, each step widening the chasm she'd created.

Camila stood frozen, the weight of her choices pressing down on her chest until she could barely breathe. She glanced at Filian, who watched with uncharacteristic solemnity, her usual sparkle dimmed.

"Camila..." Filian reached for her, but Camila shook her head.

The apartment door clicked shut behind them. Camila flinched at the sound, her wings pulled tight against her back. The fairy lights she'd strung up after cleaning cast uneven shadows across the living room, making it impossible to read Vedal's expression as he stood by the kitchen counter.

"Why?" The quiet in his voice was worse than anger.

Camila's fingers twisted in her sleeves. "She called, and I just—"

"You picked up my phone," Vedal cut in, each word precise. "You pretended to be my girlfriend. You made Anny think—" He stopped, jaw working. "Why?"

"I didn't think she'd take it so seriously!" The lie tasted bitter. "It was just a stupid prank, okay? I didn't—"

"Don't." His hand clenched on the counter edge. "For once in your life, Camila, don't lie. Why?"

She tried to laugh it off, but it came out strangled. "Come on, you're acting like I committed some horrible—"

"Anny hates me.” His voice cracked. "My friend of three years thinks I don’t give a shit about her, avoiding her while secretly dating—" He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair. "Just tell me why."

"Because she was in the way!" The words burst out before Camila could stop them. "How was I supposed to fulfill the contract with her always around? Always calling, always taking your attention—"

Vedal went very still. "The contract?"

Camila's stomach dropped. She hadn't meant to—

"What does Anny have to do with our contract?"

She backed up a step, wings brushing the wall. "Nothing, I didn't mean—"

"Camila." His voice was deadly quiet now. "What exactly were you trying to accomplish?"

The words tumbled out in a desperate rush. "I thought if she was gone, if you were hurt enough, maybe you'd finally let me in. Let me fulfill your desires so I could go home. I've been trying but you won't let me—"

"You…” Vedal's voice caught. "You deliberately hurt Anny to get to me?”

"You don't understand!" Camila's wings flared defensively. "The contract requires—"

"Answer the question."

She lifted her chin, trying to hold onto her anger. "Yes! Yes, okay? I saw my chance and I took it! You think I want to be stuck here? Bound to some human who won't even touch me!?”

Vedal's voice had gone dangerously soft. "Won't let you manipulate him, you mean.”

"That's not—" Camila ran her hands through her hair, glamour rippling. "Look, it started as—I mean, I had to do something! You were so... so frustratingly resistant, and she was always there, being all perfect and supportive—"

"So you decided to destroy that support." Each word fell like ice. "The coffee runs. The movie nights. Helping me clean the apartment. Saving Filian from those thugs in the alley." His voice cracked. "Was any of it real?"

"Of course it was real! I mean—" Camila reached for him, then pulled back when he flinched. "I did those things because—because—"

"Because you thought they'd make me vulnerable?" The look in his eyes made her wings pull tight. "Because every kind gesture was just another step in your plan to hollow me out?"

"No! I mean, at first maybe, but it’s different now!” She stumbled over the words, suddenly unable to explain how things had changed, how somewhere between the movie nights and the coffee runs and the stupid arguments something had shifted. "Vedal, please, you have to understand—"

"Oh, I understand perfectly." His laugh was bitter. "You saw me starting to trust you. Starting to think maybe this binding wasn't the worst thing. And the whole time it was all part of your plot.” He turned away, shoulders rigid. "Because that's what this was really about, wasn't it? Breaking me down enough that I'd finally be desperate enough to want you."

"That's not fair!" Camila's voice cracked. "You don't know what it's like, being bound here, trying to fulfill a contract when you won't even—"

"Won't play along with your game?"

"It wasn't a game!" The words tore out of her. "Not all of it—not lately—I didn't mean to—"

"To care?" His voice went quiet again. "No. You meant to destroy my closest friendship. You meant to isolate me. You meant to break me." He walked to his room, each step measured. "Congratulations, Camila. You've finally made me feel something. Unfortunately for you, it's not desire."

The door shut with a soft click that felt more final than any slam. Camila stood alone in the flickering light. She stared at her hands.

A fairy light sputtered and died, leaving the room a little darker.

The rain tapped a hollow rhythm against the apartment window as Camila paced outside Vedal's bedroom door. Three hours. He'd been in there for three hours, leaving her alone with the tick of the clock and the weight of a millennium's worth of sins.

She pressed her forehead against the door. "Vedal?" Her voice came out smaller than she'd intended. No response. Just like the last six times she'd tried.

"I know you can hear me." Her nails scraped against the wood. "Please. Just... let me explain."

Silence.

Something inside her cracked. "Fine. Fine. You want to know why I did it? Why I tried to drive her away? It wasn’t just because of my little plan. Deep down...” Her legs gave out and she slid down, back pressed against the door. “It was because I was scared."

The word hung in the air like a confession. Camila laughed, brittle and sharp. "A succubus, scared. Hell would burn me alive if they could see me now. It’s funny, too. I didn’t even realize it till now.” She drew her knees to her chest, wings wrapping around herself. "But I was. Am."

The rain filled the silence as she gathered words she'd never dared speak aloud. "I was created to corrupt. To destroy. One thousand souls—that's my legacy. Men, women, kings, beggars... I took them all apart. Made them worship me." Her voice cracked. "And I counted every single one. Like trophies."

She could almost feel him listening now, the quality of the silence different. "The first one was a priest. So certain of his faith until I showed him a different kind of devotion. The hundredth was a mother who abandoned her children for me. The five-hundredth—" Her throat closed. "Gods, I don't even remember their face. Just the number. Always the numbers."

Camila's claws dug into her arms. "But you... you were supposed to be one thousand and one. Just another mark. Another victory. Except you weren't impressed by my power. Weren't seduced by my beauty. You just... called me annoying. Treated me like I was normal."

She wiped furiously at her eyes. "And then there was Anny. So bright. So genuine. Everything I can never be. And you smiled at her, laughed with her, let her in so easily while I had to claw my way past every wall. And I think I thought—" Her voice broke. “I think I thought if she stayed, you'd see. Really see what I am. This twisted, broken thing playing at being human."

The silence stretched. "So I tried to destroy it. Because that's what I do. I destroy beautiful things before they can destroy me." She pressed her palms flat against the floor, grounding herself. "But I was wrong. So wrong. Because watching your face when you realized what I'd done? That destroyed me anyway."

Minutes passed, marked only by the steady drum of rain. Then, so quiet she almost missed it, came Vedal's voice through the door: "Keep talking."

Camila's breath hitched. "I don't know how to be good. I don't know how to care about people without wanting to possess them. Every kindness I've ever shown has been a weapon." Her tail curled tight around her ankle. "Except... except sometimes, with you, I forget to make it a weapon. Sometimes I just... want to make you coffee. Want to hear about your stupid coding. Want to—to matter to someone without having to make them care."

She heard movement behind the door. "I'll tell Anny everything. I'll beg her forgiveness. I'll do whatever it takes to fix what I broke. And if you want me gone after that, I'll go. But please—" Her voice cracked again. "Please don't let this be how it ends."

The door opened.

Camila nearly fell backward, catching herself at the last moment. Vedal stood over her, his expression unreadable in the darkness.

"Get up," he said quietly.

She rose on shaking legs, wings pulled tight against her back. He studied her for a long moment, then walked past her to the kitchen. She heard the coffee maker click on, the familiar routine somehow more terrifying than any silence.

"Why did you count them?" he asked finally, his back to her.

"What?"

"The souls. Why keep track?"

Camila's claws dug into her palms. "Because... because numbers don't lie. Numbers meant I was succeeding. Meant I was everything I was supposed to be." She swallowed hard. "Meant I didn't have to think about them as people."

The coffee maker gurgled. "And now?"

"Now the numbers feel like chains. Like proof that I don't deserve—" She cut herself off.

"Deserve what?"

"This. You. Any of it."

Vedal turned, two mugs in his hands. His eyes were red-rimmed, tired. "You don't get to decide what you deserve." He set one mug on the counter, sliding it toward her. "But you do get to decide who you want to be now."

"I don't know who that is."

"Figure it out." His voice was still hard, but something in it had softened. "Not for me. Not for Anny. For yourself."

Camila reached for the mug, her claws clicking against ceramic. "What if I can't?"

"Then you try anyway." He took a long sip of his coffee. "I'm still angry. This isn't fixed. But..." He exhaled slowly. "I want to believe the person who stays up with me during movie night, who saved Filian, who’s obsessed with a silly rom-com manga—I want to believe that person is real too."

"She is," Camila whispered. "She's just... scared."

"Of what?"

"Of how much easier it was to count souls than it is to count the ways you've made me want to be better."

Vedal was quiet for a long moment. Then he pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. "Sit. Tell me about the first one. The priest. Tell me everything you never let yourself feel about it."

Camila's hands shook as she sank into the chair. "I remember his prayers," she started, her voice barely a whisper. "Even as he burned..."

The rain continued its steady rhythm against the window as she finally, finally began to count backward from one thousand.

Camila stirred on the couch. She blinked, disoriented for a moment, before the memory of their conversation settled over her like a warm blanket. A small, almost foreign smile touched her lips.

It had felt freeing. Liberating, even.

Then she heard voices.

Vedal’s, low and muffled, drifted from the vicinity of the front door. Another voice, higher pitched and undeniably female, responded. Curiosity piqued, Camila unwound herself and padded silently across the living room, her bare feet cool against the wooden floor.

As she neared the entryway, the other voice became clearer. “I’m telling you, Vedal, you’ve been acting super weird lately. Like, extra weird. And I still want explanations about the whole girlfriend thing.”

Camila rounded the corner, her eyebrows furrowed. What she saw stopped her cold.

Standing on the other side of the open doorway, illuminated by the porch light, was a woman with long, flowing white hair and an almost ethereal glow about her. Anny.

But it wasn’t just Anny. It was the energy radiating from her that made Camila’s breath catch in her throat. A palpable wave of… divinity. It was like standing too close to the sun, a burning, holy presence that made her demonic senses scream in warning.

Anny’s jaw dropped as she caught sight of Camila. Her eyes widened, then narrowed into slits, all traces of her previous friendly demeanor vanishing. The air crackled with power.

“Demon!” Anny shrieked, her voice laced with righteous fury.

Before Camila could even process the accusation, a searing blast of white-hot fire erupted from Anny’s outstretched hand, hurtling directly towards her.

Chapter Text

The blast of divine fire missed Camila by inches. She stumbled back, the heat singing her clothes as ozone filled the air. Behind her, a bookshelf burst into flames.

"My books!" Vedal yelped from across the room.

"Stay back," Camila warned him. "Holy fire isn't exactly demon-friendly."

"No kidding!" Vedal ducked as another fireball sailed overhead. "Anny, what are you doing?"

In the doorway stood Anny, her white tail rigid with anger behind her. Camila blinked, noticing for the first time the fox ears nearly hidden in Anny's pale hair. A kitsune.

"You didn't mention your friend was a fox spirit," Camila called to Vedal, diving behind the couch as another blast turned it to ash.

"I didn't know!" Vedal shouted back, frantically spraying a fire extinguisher at the burning bookshelf.

"Like you're one to talk about secrets," Anny snarled, holy fire dancing around her fingers.

Camila drew on her power, creating illusions throughout the room. Multiple versions of herself appeared, each moving differently. "Vedal knows exactly what I am."

"That's not the point," Anny said, her attacks scattering wide. The floor near Vedal's feet erupted in flames.

"The point is my bookshelf is on fire!” Vedal climbed onto his desk as the fire spread.

Camila saw her chance while Anny prepared a larger attack. She slipped behind what remained of the couch, whispering a spell that filled the air with sulfur.

"Why does it smell like rotten eggs?" Vedal gagged.

"Typical demon tricks," Anny spat, but her hesitation gave Camila the opening she needed.

Camila vaulted over the smoldering couch, grabbing Anny's wrist to stop another blast of fire. But Anny's tail whipped around, catching her across the face.

"Can we talk about this?" Vedal pleaded. "Preferably without more fire?"

They ignored him. Anny's knee drove into Camila's stomach. Camila retaliated with shadow-chains, trying to entangle the kitsune's legs.

"ENOUGH!" Vedal jumped between them, his voice cracking. "Both of you – stop! Just stop!" He looked between them, still clutching his fire extinguisher. "Anny, I already know Camila's a demon. Camila, Anny's apparently a... fox person? Can we please stop destroying my apartment and discuss this like rational supernatural beings?"

The absurdity of his intervention broke through their battle focus. Anny's flames died out, though her tail still twitched. Camila released her illusions, catching her breath.

"A kitsune," Anny corrected, smoothing her ruffled tail.

"Whatever," Vedal said, looking at his ruined apartment. "Just... someone please tell me they know how to fix holy fire damage?"

The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the crackling embers of the scorched carpet. Vedal stood between them, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and mild panic. Camila, still recovering from the clash of divine energy, leaned against the back of the couch, her face carefully composed into a neutral mask despite her disheveled appearance. The kitsune stared back at Camila, her single tail drooping slightly.

"Anny... what... what was that?" Vedal finally stammered, gesturing vaguely between the two.

Anny took a deep breath, her gaze flickering between Vedal and Camila. "Vedal..." She paused, then grinned despite the tension. "Remember how I keep saying my beauty is practically magical? Well..."

She tugged at her fox ear. Golden energy sparkled around her like fireflies.

Vedal stared at her for a long moment, then let out a nervous laugh. "Okay, very funny. Did you get some new cosplay? The effects are amazing, though I don't see any projectors—"

"Not cosplay," Anny said, and with a flick of her wrist, conjured a small fox-fire that danced between her fingers. "Want to try touching it?"

"That's... that's got to be some kind of hologram," Vedal said, though his voice wavered. "Or maybe AR? Did you set up trackers in my apartment? Because that would be a violation of our friendship and also really impressive and I'd need to know how you did it—"

Anny rolled her eyes and sent the flame dancing through the air, having it spiral around Vedal's head before splitting into multiple smaller flames that formed a glowing crown. "Still think it's AR?”

Vedal reached up tentatively, his hand passing through one of the flames. It was warm, but didn't burn. "I... that's... but that's impossible. You can't... this isn't..." His programmer brain seemed to be buffering. "You're really...?"

"A kitsune," Anny confirmed, letting the flames fade. She struck a pose, her tail swishing playfully. "And not just any kitsune. My mom's Inari herself. You know, the super hot fertility goddess? She got a little too friendly with one of her priests.” She winked. "Divine blood, baby. Makes me extra blessed, if you know what I mean~"

"Gods aren't... gods can't be..." Vedal sat down hard on the nearest chair. "This isn't... you're telling me gods are real? Actual divine beings? And you're..." He looked up at her. "All those times you made cosplay jokes..."

"Were completely accurate," Anny said cheerfully, then her expression darkened as she looked back at Camila. "Just like all those stories about her."

Camila straightened slightly, her wings tensing. "Are you done showing off?"

"Oh, I haven't even started," Anny said, golden energy crackling around her hands. "Want to see what else a daughter of Inari can do?"

"Anny," Vedal said, finally finding his voice again. "Wait. Just... wait. I need... I need to process this. You're actually divine. Like, literally divine. Half-divine. Whatever." He ran both hands through his hair. “Oh god. Oh god?" He looked at Anny. "Can I still say that? Is that offensive now?"

"Vedal," Camila said, her voice cool but with an underlying note of... something. "I know this is a lot, but—"

"A lot?" Vedal laughed, slightly hysterically. "My best friend is apparently a demigod fox girl, my roommate is actually a demon, and my carpet is on fire. This is beyond 'a lot'. This is... this is..." He gestured vaguely at the air. "This is like finding out my entire codebase has been rewritten in COBOL while I wasn't looking!"

"To be fair," Anny said, unable to help herself, "I'd say it's more like finding out your codebase was actually written by the gods of programming themselves." She paused. "Though Mom's terrible at coding. She still uses Windows 95."

"Not helping," Vedal groaned. Then he froze. "Wait. When you said you could smell what I was cooking…”

"Enhanced senses," Anny confirmed. "Though honestly, anyone could smell your attempts at cooking. Divine powers not required."

"And all those times you seemed to know exactly what I was thinking..."

"Just really good at reading you, actually." Anny's tail swished. "Though I can do illusions if you want to see something really cool—"

"No more demonstrations," Camila cut in sharply. "I think you've traumatized him enough."

Anny's playful demeanor vanished instantly, replaced by steel. "Bold words from the demon who's been manipulating him."

"I haven't—" Camila started, then stopped, her expression flickering. "That's not..."

"Not what?" Anny's voice dropped low, dangerous. "Not what you meant to do? Not who you are anymore? Because I've heard about you succubi. The things you've done. The lives you've ruined. And now you're here, playing house with my best friend?"

The air crackled with tension again, divine energy meeting demonic power. Vedal looked between them, his initial shock giving way to concern.

"It's not like that," he said quickly. "Camila's... she's trying to change. Really trying. Even if she sometimes does stupid things like pretending to be my girlfriend on the phone—"

"That was you?" Anny's eyes flashed golden. "That whole awkward conversation was because of you?"

Camila's wings twitched but she held her ground. "Yes. It was petty and wrong. I admitted that to Vedal already."

"What's your game here?" Anny demanded. "What are you really after?"

The temperature in the room dropped as Camila's demonic energy flared in response. "Right now? Nothing."

"Nothing?" Anny's laugh was harsh. "Try again."

"Anny—" Vedal started, but Camila cut him off.

"No, she's right." Camila's voice was tight. "At first, I was trying to seduce him. That was the whole point of the contract – to fulfill his desires. To corrupt him." Her wings shifted uncomfortably. "That's what succubi do, isn't it?"

The divine energy around Anny intensified, making the air thick with power. "I knew it! You—"

"But then he bought me manga."

The non sequitur made Anny falter. "What?"

"He bought me manga. Started leaving volumes around the apartment like some kind of weird trap." A ghost of a smile crossed Camila's face. "He took me to the mall with Filian. We argue about movie choices every other night. He..." She glanced at Vedal. "He makes space for me on the couch when we both stay up too late, even though we both insist the other one should go to bed."

"It's my couch," Vedal muttered. "You should definitely go to bed."

"You're the one who needs sleep, human," Camila shot back automatically, then seemed to catch herself.

Anny's eyes narrowed, but some of the energy around her dimmed. "So what? You're saying a few shopping trips and some manga changed you?"

"I'm saying..." Camila seemed to struggle with the words. "I'm saying he treats me like a person. Not a demon, not a supernatural being to be feared or used. Just... someone who burns his breakfast trying to cook it properly instead of using magic. Someone who makes him coffee in the morning because he's useless before caffeine." She straightened. "And yes, someone who's trying to be... better. Even though I don't really know what that means yet."

The golden energy around Anny flickered, uncertainty crossing her face. She looked at Vedal. "Is this true?"

Vedal nodded. "The breakfast was truly terrible. Pretty sure cereal isn't supposed to catch fire."

"That's not what I—"

"I know what you meant," Vedal said quietly. "And yes. She's trying. Really trying. The girlfriend thing was a setback, and I'm still mad about that, but..." He shrugged. "People change. Even supernatural ones, apparently."

The divine energy around Anny dimmed further, though it didn't disappear entirely. "You really trust her?"

"Enough to fall asleep on the couch with her nearby," Vedal said. "Enough to let her stay here. Enough to..." He flushed slightly. "Enough to keep buying her manga.”

Camila smiled.

The tension in the room shifted, becoming something more complex. Anny's tail swished thoughtfully as she looked between them. "If you hurt him..."

"You'll destroy me with divine wrath, yes, I know." Camila's usual snark returned, but there was less edge to it.

The scent of scorched leather and sulfur hung thick in the apartment as Anny's tail swept a lazy arc through the haze. Golden light pulsed around her like a heartbeat, casting strange shadows across walls already stained by demonic residue. She fixed Camila with eyes that had watched empires crumble.

"Fine," Anny said, each word precise as a blade. "You say you've changed. That this whole domestic bliss routine isn't just another long con." Her gaze flicked to the demon's wings, which had left fresh tears in the wallpaper. "But I've got about six centuries of evidence suggesting otherwise."

Camila's shadows coiled tighter, defensive. "You don't get to judge—"

"Oh, but I do." Anny's smile was sweet as poison. "Because someone needs to make sure Vedal doesn't end up soulless because he forgot to separate the recycling." She snapped her fingers, and a massive lacquered chest materialized between them, rattling the windows with its arrival. "So I'm staying."

"You're what?" Vedal scrambled up from his chair, nearly tripping over the chest's gleaming corner. "Anny, this place is barely big enough for two people, let alone—"

"Perfect!" Anny chirped, divine energy crackling as she flung open the chest. The scent of cherry blossoms washed over them, momentarily drowning out the lingering brimstone. "I've always wanted to try the whole roommate thing. We can have movie nights, share beauty tips..." Her smile sharpened as she pulled out an ancient katana wrapped incongruously in pastel silk. "Compare notes on binding contracts."

Camila's wings snapped open, casting the room in deeper shadow. "This is my territory—"

“Last I checked, I still own the lease,” Vedal muttered, earning twin glares that made him shrink back into his chair.

"Think of me as a spiritual OSHA inspector.” Anny was already unpacking, each item more impossible than the last – scrolls that hummed with power, talismans that chimed like distant bells, and what appeared to be a complete set of kawaii pajamas. "Just making sure everything's up to code."

"This is insane," Camila hissed, her claws leaving fresh gouges in the already-ravaged couch. "Vedal, tell her—"

“She’s not going to change her mind.” Vedal sighed. “We’re not winning this one, Camila.

"Smart boy," Anny purred, materializing a silk cushion beneath her as she settled cross-legged in the air. Her tail swayed like a metronome, counting out the tension. "Don't worry, roomie. I'll be the soul of discretion." Her eyes gleamed with ancient mischief. "Though I might suggest some updates to your warding. The ones you've got are tragically last millennium."

Vedal pressed his fingers to his temples. "I need a drink."

"Ooh, great idea!" Anny clapped her hands, and bottles of sake appeared floating in formation. "Nothing breaks the ice like a little divine wine. Unless..." She cast a sly glance at Camila. “You can’t handle it?”

The demon's response was to snatch a bottle from the air and drain it in one long pull, maintaining aggressive eye contact the entire time.

"Now that's the spirit!" Anny laughed, but there was steel beneath the sparkle. As Vedal cautiously accepted his own bottle, her expression softened into something almost gentle. "You know," she mused, "this really could be fun. The fox, the demon, and the programmer walk into a bar... or just share one very confused apartment."

Camila's shadows retreated slightly, though her grip on the sake bottle remained white-knuckled. "If you ward the living room, I will end you."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Anny said sweetly, producing a set of glowing ofuda from her sleeve. "Though your kitchen could use a little... divine intervention."

As the two supernatural beings settled into their first awkward drink together, Vedal looked between them and sighed. “My landlord is going to kill me, isn’t he?”

"Oh, honey." Anny patted his hand. "That was gone the moment you moved in with a demon." Her smile turned razor-sharp. "But don't worry – I'm much better at property damage control than Miss Hellfire over there."

Chapter Text

Camila leaned against the kitchen counter, her tail lashing back and forth as Anny continued her takeover of their living room. The kitsune hummed to herself, arranging yet another easel by the window.

"Wonder how much this is going to add to the electricity bill," Camila muttered, loud enough to carry.

"Oh, don't worry about that!" Anny's tail swished as she unpacked a box of expensive-looking art supplies. "I've brought some traditional fox-fire lanterns. Very energy efficient."

Camila's eye twitched. She sidled closer to where Anny was setting up her workspace, "accidentally" catching one of the easels with her tail. Instead of toppling, the easel seemed to float for a moment before settling into an even better position than before.

"Oops," Anny said, not even looking up from her unpacking. "Careful there! Some of these materials are quite valuable."

The temperature around Camila rose several degrees. Fine. If that's how it was going to be... She snapped her fingers, and a small cloud of sulfur materialized directly above Anny's precious art supplies.

Anny waved her hand lazily, and the sulfur cloud transformed into a shower of cherry blossoms that scattered across her sketchbooks.

"Oh, how lovely!" Anny clapped her hands together. "I was just thinking this corner needed some color."

"The lighting is perfect here," Anny continued, positioning herself by the window. "Don't you think so, Vedal?"

Vedal, who had been slouched on the couch with his laptop, barely glanced up. "When exactly did I agree to any of this?"

"Oh, you didn't," Anny said with a wink. "But you know you need me around to keep an eye on certain... influences." Her golden eyes flickered meaningfully toward Camila.

Camila's claws dug into her palms. The cherry blossoms at her feet began to smolder.

"Ved-al," Anny sang out, suddenly gliding over to the couch. "You look tense. Programming too much again?" She perched on the armrest, her tail "accidentally" brushing his shoulder.

Something hot and angry coiled in Camila's stomach. The kitchen counter beneath her fingers began to smoke.

"I'm fine," Vedal muttered, shifting away slightly. "Just trying to work."

"You always say that," Anny pouted, leaning in closer. Her voice dropped to a purr that made Camila's horns itch. "You know, in my culture, we have excellent massage techniques for releasing tension... Especially for those who work too hard."

Anny's tail draped across the back of the couch. Casual. Territorial. The smoke from the counter curled upward, taking on a distinctly sulfurous smell.

"Anny, what the hell?" Vedal's eyes widened as he finally looked up from his screen.

"What?" Anny blinked innocently. "I'm just looking out for your wellbeing. Unlike some people who only think about themselves..." Another pointed glance at Camila.

The wall never stood a chance. Camila's fist connected with the plaster before she even registered moving, leaving a perfectly circular hole rimmed with scorched edges. The temperature in the room had risen so high that the windows were starting to fog.

Both Anny and Vedal turned to stare at her—Vedal with surprise, Anny's expression far too knowing for comfort. The kitsune's tail swayed gently, like she was enjoying a private joke.

"I need," Camila ground out through clenched teeth, her voice rougher than usual with suppressed rage, smoke curling from between her lips, "to use the bathroom." She turned on her heel, each footstep leaving a smoldering imprint in the carpet.

Behind her, Anny's giggle chimed like bells, each note another needle under her skin. Camila slammed the bathroom door hard enough to rattle the hinges, then pressed her forehead against the cool mirror. The mirror's surface began to warp and bubble under her touch.

This was fine. Everything was fine. She was not going to let that prissy little fox get under her skin.

The mirror disagreed, a crack spreading across its melting surface.

Camila took a few deep breaths. If that kitsune harlot thought that she was going to win this, she had another thing coming. Camila was a succubi, a demon, and she wasn’t going to be outwitted by Anny.

But what could Camila do? Try flirting with Vedal? No, he was unresponsive to those things. Besides, the idea of trying her seductress act after he’d seen her at her worst… felt discomforting.

No, Camila had to play the long game.

Tonight, Anny would find herself humiliated.

Camila had weathered hours of torture. Hours of watching that insufferable fox drape herself over Vedal like some kind of living shawl, her pristine white tail swishing with entirely too much satisfaction. Hours of maintaining her composure while Anny found every possible excuse to lean in close, to brush against him, to touch his shoulder or arm with those dainty little hands. Each touch had been like a needle under Camila's skin, each giggle like nails on a chalkboard.

But she had kept it together. Mostly. The bathroom wall would need repairs, but that was future-Camila's problem. She'd even managed to plaster on a smile when Anny had spent fifteen minutes "helping" Vedal debug some absolutely trivial code issue. As if Vedal needed help from someone who probably thought Python was just a kind of snake.

Now, though. Now was her moment of triumph.

"Oh, the sleeping arrangements?" Camila's voice dripped honey as she answered Anny's question, her tail swaying with practiced innocence. "Don't worry about us. Vedal and I usually take the couch. You can have the bed!" She gestured magnanimously toward the bedroom, as if bestowing a great favor.

Anny's ears twitched—a sharp, sudden movement that betrayed her surprise. "Usually?"

"Mhm!" Camila stretched languorously across the couch, her tail curling with satisfaction as she watched the kitsune's composure crack ever so slightly. The leather of the couch was cool against her bare arms, and she made sure to settle in like she belonged there. Like this was home. "It's our routine."

The kitsune's golden eyes narrowed slightly, those proud ears flattening just a fraction. "You... sleep with Vedal?"

"Well, not sleep sleep," Camila clarified, watching understanding dawn on Anny's face with vicious delight. Each micro-expression was a feast: the widening eyes, the slight part of her lips, the way her tail bristled ever so slightly. "Just, you know. Sleep." She patted the couch beside her, the leather creaking under her palm. "Right, Ved?"

Vedal, who had been scrolling through his phone with the air of someone determined to ignore an approaching tsunami, merely grunted. The blue light of his screen reflected off his eyes.

Her victory feast was cut short when Anny shrugged—a fluid, elegant movement that somehow managed to be irritating—and plopped down on Vedal's other side. "Cozy!"

"What are you doing?" Camila hissed, her sweet facade cracking like thin ice.

"Getting ready for bed!" Anny chirped, snuggling closer to Vedal with all the subtlety of a brick through a window. Her tail fanned out behind her like a feathered curtain. "Since it's routine and all."

"There's not enough room—" Camila started, feeling her horns begin to manifest with her rising irritation.

"Oh, there's plenty if we squeeze!" Anny's voice was pure sunshine and rainbows, but her smile had an edge sharp enough to cut. She pressed closer to Vedal's right side, her tail cascading over the back of the couch like a waterfall of white silk.

Camila gritted her teeth and leaned into Vedal's left side. The familiar warmth of him was tainted now by Anny's presence. She shifted, trying to claim more space, only to find Anny's tail had somehow snaked behind Vedal's shoulders.

"Oh, sorry!" Anny's voice dripped false concern as she adjusted her position. Her movement pushed Vedal further into Camila's space. "Just trying to get comfortable."

Camila stretched her arms up, making sure her elbow caught Anny's shoulder on the way down. "My bad. These wings can be so unwieldy sometimes." She let one wing stretch just enough to brush against Anny's face.

"How clumsy of you." Anny's tail twitched, and suddenly Camila was spitting out fur. The kitsune had "yawned," sending her tail flaring out in a white explosion that completely obscured Vedal's face.

"Here, Ved, let me help you with that." Camila reached across him to brush away the fur, deliberately pressing closer. She felt him stiffen.

"No, allow me." Anny's hand darted out, catching Camila's wrist. Her grip was delicate but firm, her claws just barely pricking Camila's skin. "Wouldn't want your horns scratching him."

"At least my horns don't shed everywhere." Camila yanked her hand back, bumping Vedal's chin in the process. Under her palm, shadows began to writhe across the leather of the couch.

Anny's ears flattened. "No, they just put holes in walls." She shoved slightly, fox-fire starting to spark at the tips of her ears. The temperature around her rose, making Vedal shift uncomfortably between them.

"Better than being a walking fire hazard." Camila pushed back harder, her fingers digging into Vedal's hoodie sleeve. The shadows at her feet deepened, crawling up the walls like grasping fingers.

"At least I didn't lie to—"

"Don't you dare—"

They pulled, each seizing one of Vedal's arms. He was caught between them like a rope in a tug-of-war, his hoodie wrinkled in Camila's grip.

"ENOUGH!"

Vedal's roar froze them both. He wrenched free of their grasp with enough force to make them both rock back, stood up, and fixed them with a glare that could have frozen hellfire. The room temperature seemed to drop ten degrees under that look. "I am not," he bit out, each word sharp as broken glass, "a fucking teddy bear."

He stormed to his bedroom. The door slammed with enough force to rattle the walls, sending a framed poster crashing to the floor.

Camila stared at the closed bedroom door, her tail twitching in agitation. The silence stretched between her and Anny like a rubber band ready to snap. She could practically feel that tail swishing behind her, and it made her want to scream.

This was not how tonight was supposed to go.

She'd had it all planned out – a perfect way to assert her place in Vedal's life while reminding this interloping kitsune who'd been here first. But now Vedal was genuinely angry, and worse, he'd denied her his presence. The fact that Anny was also denied was small consolation.

"We need to talk about this," Anny's voice was measured, calculated. It made Camila's skin crawl.

"There's nothing to talk about," Camila snapped, whirling around. "This is all your fault. If you hadn't moved in—"

"To protect him from you—"

“He doesn’t need your protection," Camila hissed. "Vedal is..." She caught herself. "Vedal can handle himself."

Anny's ears twitched. "Clearly not, since he just stormed off."

“Because of you—“

“Because of us.”

Camila deflated slightly, because damn it, the kitsune had a point. Her wings drooped as she slid down the wall to sit on the floor. "So what do you suggest? Because this whole situation isn't working."

"We could share."

Camila's head snapped up so fast her horns nearly scraped the wall. "WHAT?"

"Not like that!" Anny's tail bristled. "I mean... share the space. Share his time. Come to an arrangement."

"Are you out of your mind?" Camila sputtered. "I'm not sharing Vedal with anyone! He's..." She stopped herself again, face flushing.

"Not yours?" Anny supplied with a knowing smile. "Just like he's not mine? I'm only here to protect him, after all."

"Right," Camila said through gritted teeth. "Just like you're only here to protect him."

They glared at each other for a long moment before Anny spoke again. "Look, we can keep fighting and make everyone miserable, or we can figure out how to coexist. Starting with tonight."

"What about tonight?"

"Well, neither of us can sleep on the couch now – it would feel like surrendering. And we can't keep fighting over him like this."

Camila's eyes widened as she realized what Anny was suggesting. "Oh no. No, no, no. Absolutely not."

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Literally anything would be better than—"

"Than what? Being mature about this? Setting boundaries?"

"Being mature is overrated," Camila muttered, but she could feel her resolve weakening. The thought of Anny getting to spend time alone with Vedal while she was exiled to the couch was unbearable. But so was the thought of sharing. "This isn't going to work."

"Probably not," Anny agreed. "But it might make him forgive us faster."

Camila groaned, letting her head thunk back against the wall. "I hate that you might be right." She glared at the kitsune. "But this doesn't mean we're friends. And it definitely doesn't mean I'm giving up on him."

"Of course not," Anny said smoothly. "I'm just here to protect him, remember?"

"Right," Camila said, not believing it for a second. "So how do we do this without killing each other?"

As they began to negotiate terms, Camila tried very hard not to think about how complicated her life had become. She used to be a simple succubus with simple needs. Now here she was, making peace treaties with a kitsune over a programmer who probably wouldn't appreciate either of their efforts.

The things she did for... well, whatever this was.

Camila couldn't help but grin as she watched Anny pick the lock to Vedal's bedroom door. For all her divine heritage, the kitsune had some surprisingly useful skills. The door clicked open, and they shared a conspiratorial look before creeping inside.

Vedal lay sprawled on his bed, still fully dressed and on top of the covers. His breathing was even, but there was tension in his shoulders even in sleep. Guilt pricked at Camila – they had really done a number on him today.

"Ready?" Anny whispered, her tail swishing softly.

Camila nodded, and they executed their carefully planned attack. Anny settled on Vedal's left side while Camila claimed the right, both of them curling around him like particularly clingy cats. The bed was just big enough for three, if they didn't mind getting cozy.

Vedal's eyes snapped open. "What the actual fu—" He jolted upright, or tried to, but found himself effectively pinned by two supernatural beings. "No. Absolutely not. This is literally straight from a goddamn manga and I refuse to participate."

"Look on the bright side!" Camila chirped, cutting off what was surely about to be a creative string of profanity. "At least we're not fighting anymore."

"Get. Out." His voice was flat with exhaustion. He tried to wiggle free, but Camila just tightened her grip on his arm. "This is not happening. I am not living in some harem anime."

"But Vedaaaaal," Anny's reply was sing-song as she snuggled closer, one of her tail draping across his chest. "We've reached a compromise!"

"This is not a compromise. This is a hostage situation." He made another attempt to escape, managing to sit up partially before both of them pulled him back down. "I swear to god, if either of you start going 'nya' at me—"

"We would never," Camila assured him, though she filed that idea away for future reference. "We're just trying to sleep. Like civilized beings."

"Civilized beings sleep in separate beds!"

"Actually," Anny chimed in, "in many cultures, communal sleeping is quite normal. As a daughter of Inari, I can tell you—"

"Don't you dare try to make this educational," Vedal groaned. He let his head fall back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling as if it might offer some escape. "This is ridiculous. You're both ridiculous."

"You love us though," Camila said, then immediately tensed. Too far? But Vedal just sighed, the sound somewhere between exasperation and resignation.

"I tolerate you. Sometimes. Barely." Despite his words, his body was starting to relax. Exhaustion was clearly winning out over irritation.

"Go to sleep," Anny murmured "We promise to behave."

"That's what you said about the couch," he muttered, but his eyes were already closing.

Camila watched as the fight slowly drained out of him. His breathing evened out once more, and the tension in his shoulders finally, finally released.

After a few minutes of staring at him, she fell asleep.

And a voice cut through her daze.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Camila's eyes shot open. There, standing in the black void of Camila’s mind was Lilith. Her mentor's smile was sharp enough to cut glass.

"Hi," Camila squeaked.

Chapter Text

"My, my, how domestic you've become."

The voice cut through the darkness like a blade. Camila's dreamscape shifted, morphing into a familiar crimson-hued office with obsidian furnishings. Lilith sat behind her desk, perfectly poised, fingers steepled beneath her chin.

"Boss," Tension immediately threaded through her body. She straightened, trying to project confidence despite being caught in Vedal's oversized sweater instead of her usual provocative attire. "To what do I owe the displeasure?"

"Can't a superior check in on her favorite field agent?" Lilith's smile was predatory. "It's been a while since your last report."

“B-been busy.” Camila gulped. "Things have been complicated."

"Hmm." Lilith stood, walking around her desk with measured steps. "Your reports have become increasingly sparse. And increasingly... uninformative."

"What can I say? Not much happens when you're tethered to someone whose idea of excitement is debugging code at 3 AM." Camila affected a bored tone and her tail twitched behind her.

"Is that so?" Lilith's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then perhaps you can explain why, after more than a month, you still haven't completed your assignment."

Camila’s fingers twitched. "He's... challenging."

"Challenging?" Lilith echoed, amused. "Do elaborate."

"Well, for starters—" Camila began, then caught herself as her voice lifted with unexpected enthusiasm. She cleared her throat, recalibrating to her usual dry tone. "He's totally immune to standard seduction tactics. It's like trying to seduce a calculator. A snarky, infuriating calculator."

"How fascinating," Lilith circled closer. "And yet, when you speak of him, your eyes light up in a rather telling way."

"They do not," Camila felt a betraying warmth creep into her cheeks. "I'm just... invested in the challenge. Professionally speaking."

"Professionally," Lilith repeated, her voice dripping with skepticism. "Is that why you're wearing his clothing? A professional choice?"

Camila glanced down at the sweater and cursed inwardly. "It's a psychological tactic. Makes him think I'm getting comfortable, lowering his defenses."

"And the fox girl?" Lilith asked, abruptly changing tack. "You failed to mention her arrival."

A flash of genuine annoyance crossed Camila's face. "Anny? She's a complication. Daughter of Inari, apparently appointed herself his personal bodyguard. She's constantly watching me, making meaningful eye contact whenever I get within three feet of him."

"A kitsune," Lilith said. "Interesting. And has this... complication derailed your plans entirely?"

"Of course not," Camila said. "I've dealt with worse. I'm adaptable."

"Are you?" Lilith's voice dropped. "Let's dispense with the charade, shall we? It's been months, Camila. Where's my programmer's soul? Why hasn't he fallen under your thrall yet?"

Camila's shoulders tensed, her practiced air of detachment slipping.

"I'm working on it," she replied, unable to meet Lilith's gaze. "He's difficult in ways I didn't anticipate."

"Is he difficult, or are you hesitating?" Lilith said, moving closer. "I've never known you to take this long with a mark. What's different about this one?"

"Nothing! He's just—" Camila's voice rose defensively before she caught herself. She exhaled, regaining composure. "The circumstances are unique. The binding spell, the kitsune, it requires a more careful approach."

“Is that so?” Lilith said. “Or perhaps there's another reason for your failure."

Camila swallowed hard. "What do you mean?"

Lilith stopped directly in front of her. "You're growing attached to him."

"Don't be ridiculous," Camila said with a wry laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes. "He's a mark. Nothing more."

"Then tell me about him," Lilith said. "Clinically. As a mark."

"Well, he's..." Camila began confidently enough, but her voice subtly shifted as she continued. "He's brilliant, actually. Frustratingly so. The way his mind works is fascinating—he sees patterns no one else does. And he has this way of cutting through nonsense with just a look." A small, unconscious smile played at her lips. "When he's deep in his work, he gets this little crease between his eyebrows. And sometimes, when I say something particularly outrageous, there's this microsecond where his lips twitch before he covers it with a scowl, and I know I've almost made him laugh—"

She caught herself, registering Lilith's knowing smirk too late.

"That sounds remarkably detailed for someone who's just a mark," Lilith said.

"I'm observant," Camila replied tersely, her tail lashing behind her in agitation. "It's my job to notice these things."

"Is it your job to sound like a lovesick schoolgirl when you describe them?"

"I do not sound like—" Camila cut herself off. She drew herself up, attempting to regain her dignity. "This conversation is ridiculous. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Lilith's smile was all teeth now. "Let me remind you of the cold calculus here, darling. You are a succubus. A monster."

Camila bit her lips and looked away from Lilith’s eyes.

"Does Camila really think that Vedal could ever love her, truly, if he knew what she's done?" Lilith's voice was mockingly sweet. "The souls you've taken? The lives you've ruined?"

"He does know," Camila said, her voice steady but quieter. "I told him everything after the thing with Anny. I came clean."

"Did you?" Lilith chuckled, cutting her off. "No, he doesn't. Words are meaningless, my dear. You told him what he could bear to hear."

"That's not—"

"Has he seen you feed?" Lilith paused. "Has he watched you drain the life essence from a human? Has he felt the cold void you leave behind in your victims?"

Camila fell silent.

"As I thought." Lilith's fingertip, sharp as a talon, lifted Camila's chin. "You're playing house with a human. It's pathetic, really."

"It's different with him," Camila said.

"Oh, my dear, naive creature." Lilith's laugh echoed through the dreamscape. "They all say that before the end. Every succubus who's fallen into this trap has spoken those exact words."

She stepped back, spreading her arms wide. "But you know what? I'm going to enjoy watching this all go up in flames. In fact, I'll stay out of it completely, just to prove my point."

"What?" Genuine surprise broke through Camila's carefully maintained facade.

"Consider it an experiment," Lilith said with a cruel smile. "I won't interfere. I won't send anyone after you. I'll give you all the time you need to prove me wrong."

The dream office began to dissolve around them, Lilith's form growing more ethereal by the second.

"And when he finally sees the truth—when he looks at you with the same horror all humans eventually do—when you crawl back to me broken and reminded of what you truly are..." Lilith's smile widened impossibly. "I'll be sure to treat you well."

Her eerie smile was the last thing to fade.

"Sweet dreams, little succubus."

Camila jolted awake, a gasp caught in her throat, cold sweat plastering Vedal's stolen sweater to her skin. She was trembling, the nightmare's tendrils still wrapped around her mind. It took her a moment to realize where she was—on Vedal's bed, with Vedal himself on one side and Anny having curled up fox-like at the foot.

Her violent awakening had disturbed Vedal, who groaned and rolled over to face her, eyes barely open.

"Do you mind?" he muttered grumpily. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

Camila opened her mouth to fire back with something snarky, but nothing came out. She was still shaking, Lilith's words echoing in her mind like a death knell.

Vedal blinked, now more awake.

"Hey," he said, his voice softer. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Camila managed, forcing her usual smirk. "Just dreaming about how boring you are. It was terrifying."

But the quip lacked her usual conviction, and her voice had an unfamiliar tremor. Worse still, she couldn't seem to stop her hands from shaking.

"You're trembling," Vedal sat up slightly. "Seriously, what happened?"

"I said it's nothing," Camila snapped, pulling away from him. "Just drop it."

"It's clearly not nothing," Vedal pressed, reaching out toward her shoulder. "You look like you've seen—"

"What part of 'drop it' don't you understand?" Camila snarled, slapping his hand away with more force than she intended. "Not everything is your business. You don't get to debug me like I'm one of your stupid projects!"

The words hung in the air between them.

Vedal's face shifted, concern giving way to hurt, then settling into a cold, neutral look.

"Fine," he said flatly. "Have it your way."

He turned over, his back to her now.

Camila sat there in the darkness, arms wrapped around herself, the nightmare and reality blurring together into something equally painful. Lilith's words echoed in her mind.

She stared at Vedal's back, at the deliberate distance he'd put between them, and wondered if Lilith may’ve had a point.