The sidewalk was lined with small fire-powered lamps, illuminating the night sky. It was a testament to the capital city having activity at all hours.
Azazel sniffed the air. He could smell her. Emilia. She had followed him.
He turned around, observing the demon floating in the air. She had sprout two black wings which were flapping under the illumination.
"Hello~" she purred.
"Why are you following me? Azazel asked her with a blank expression. And how the hell are you floating?
Azazel brushed off his thoughts as him just not knowing a damn thing about the world he now lived. I am sure I will figure this out later.
"I miss my dear Emma," She moaned lightly, acting like a loving-mother.
"Maybe you shouldn't have left her behind for selfish desires?" Azazel wasn't particularly amused. He knew Emma was quite bothered by her missing mother, even if she hadn't outright said it.
"My darling demon," she hovered over next to him, placing her hand on his chest. "It is easy for us to become lonely. I am sure you understand..."
Azazel sighed. He wasn't sure he would call those types of demonic desires the result of loneliness.
"Are you lonely, too, my dear?" she seductively licked the tip of her fangs. "I could spare time for you."
"No."
He knew Emilia wasn't use to that type of rejection. In fact. She probably had never been rejected. Still, his resolve was high. He still had too much of George's underlying spirit. Plus, he most definitely was not going to do anything which would hurt Emma. Especially with her mother...
He began walking again, hearing the light flap if her wings behind him. This damn demon woman.
Azazel observed the reactions if the people they past. Mostly, there was no reaction, which puzzled him. Though, there were a few women who scoffed at the sight of them. Though, he figured they were mostly scoffing at her.
"Why don't you...walk?" Azazel stroked his right horn nervously. "You shouldn't draw too much attention."
Emilia placed her feet delicately in the ground and retracted her wings. They disappeared back into her form. She sighed. "I can't believe this baby demon is bossing me around."
Azazel furrowed his brow. "Baby demon?"
Emilia let out a deep laugh, placing the back of her hand against her mouth.
Azazel continued onward. He had nearly reached the meeting spot.
"How old do you think I am, darling?" She asked with an innocent inflection.
This is a trap I will not walk into.
"I wouldn't know," he dryly responded.
"You're a smart boy," Emilia mused.
Azazel took a seat on the bench. It didn't appear the siblings were finished in the trading post yet. He crossed his arms against his chest, looking at the demon in front of him.
"I can sense you aren't very...comfortable in your body, " there was a hint of teasing in her voice. "You need to learn to give into your desires."
Will this woman just stop talking?
"What makes you think I haven't given into them on numerous occasions?"
Emilia smirked, one fang visible from between her lips.
She's driving me nuts. Probably because she is her mother...or maybe demons are just infuriating creatures.
"I can sense a lot of...frustration built up within you," she snickered.
"You sense nothing."
"When you have lived 400 years, you may tell me that again," Emilia hummed. "You will be able to sense more the longer you live. It allows for easier targets. The hunting of desirable prey."
This woman is that old? She looks maybe 30. Do demons have immortality or something absurd?
"I am surprised as a demon, you are able to resist me with as much pent-up energy you posses, almost as if you are a vir--"
"No, go away, devil spawn," he immediately interrupted her before she could say it.
Azazel waved his arm in exasperation. She would be a good source of information, but he was unsure if he could put up with her long enough to learn anything useful. Her and her daughter couldn't be more different.
She's harder to deal with than Natasha. Makes sense if she has 380 years on her.
"Mother?!" Azazel pinpointed Emma's shocked voice approaching.
Emilia instantly lit up with a gentle smile as she lovingly embraced her smaller daughter. She stroked the back of her daughter's head softly, nuzzling her face into the top of her head.
"Mother, I was worried sick!" Emma looked as if she would cry.
"You know you do not need to worry about me," Emilia whispered. "I didn't realize how long it had been."
George walked up and placed his hand on his mother's shoulder. One single tear ran out if his eye.
He never ceases to amaze me.
After a loving reunion, Emma seated herself uncomfortably close to Azazel on the bench. George stood there, looking at his mother.
Emilia observed the two in the bench, a smirk spreading from ear-to-ear.
"Has he touched you inappropriately?" She just wanted to make Azazel uncomfortable.
"Mother!" Emma blushed and shifted, playing with the hem if her skirt.
"Oh ho ho," Emilia laughed. "I know he hasn't. I can sense he really isn't much of a real demon."
Azazel frowned. Not a real demon? I will need to fix this quickly.
For the first time since his reincarnation, he was actually getting somewhat angry. The tightness in his chest indicated it wouldn't be a good idea to get too angry, especially on a crowded street in the middle of town. He realized in that moment anger was something demons should definitely supress.
Azazel turned toward Emma. With a smirk, he grabbed her and pressed his lips against hers.
He kissed her.
He kept kissing her.
He side-eyed Emilia.
More kissing.
He finally released his grip and pulled away, leaving Emma flushed and speechless.
Emilia, on the other hand, was completely shocked. He felt she realized she shouldn't tease a demon in such a manner.
"Well, then..." Emilia's voice trailed off. "I take it back. That was a surprisingly bold move from the baby."
Azazel's heart was pounding out of his chest. I wasn't thinking very clearly when I did that...
It was his first expirence with letting go of himself due to emotions. At least while sober.
He sighed and glanced over at Emma, who seemed surprised.
I think she liked it...
He smirked again. He couldn't hold that expression back.
George stood there. He looked at Azazel and then scribbled on a sheet of paper.
"You bested Mom, bro."
Azazel laughed. That hulk could be absolutely amusing.
"I was right in my assessment. My dear daughter is in danger," Emillia nodded. "I can't let you two be alone."
Emma frowned. "Mother. I am not in danger."
Emilia squint her eyes and gazed at her daughter. She sensed something, so she quickly changed the subject.
"Let's go to the bar before we go back to that Hell Scholar place."
"Hell Scholar?" Emma questioned.
"They are...scholars on Hellish things," Azazel chimed in as he stood up, offering Emma his hand. "You know, this and that, basically a demon fanclub your mother got involved with."
Emma took Azazel's hand, gazing at her mother as she stood. "You met there?"
"Yes, my dear," Emilia admitted.
I bet Emma is thinking she needs to watch over her mother, not the other way around.
The four walked down the road, led by the old demon. Azazel kept hold of Emma's hand as they walked, sensing she was enjoying the intimacy of walking hand-in-hand with him.
His sight caught notice of a sign.
Brothel. Only 1 gold per lady.
Azazel nudged Emma's shoulder and pointed out the sign.
"Prostitutes," he hummed.
Emma smacked the back of his head while frowning.
Eventually, Emilia led them into a noisy bar not from the Hell Scholar building. She snapped her fingers and led them to an empty table in the back.
Azazel slid into a bench, pressing his body against the wall. Emma immediately sat next to him. George squeezed himself on the other side of the table, barely fitting, and his mother sat next to him.
"I will pay tonight," Emilia smiled.
A tall, handsome gentleman stopped at their table. He smiled at Emilia and the demon blew him a kiss.
I doubt she's paying for anything with coin, at least.
Emilia ordered them all drinks while she shamelessly flirted with the bartender.
Azazel was nervous, hoping she didn't order anything alcoholic. The last thing he wanted was so be puking somewhere in the Hell Scholar building. He imagined Luke and Rose observing every bit of his mysery and taking notes as he tried to vomit in privacy.
The bartender returned with...an entire keg and four glasses. He struggled, but got the keg in the table. Somehow the bartender seemed to have as much brute strength in his arms as George did.
I wonder what type of gym he belongs to.
"...."
He sighed.
Azazel was determined to not touch any if the contents. Otherwise, his meeting the next day was going to be agonizing.