Ok now we're away from study in pink things are gonna go in a different direction.

-‡-Prince of Hell-‡-

Chapter Eight

"You're so human," he breathed in, leaning closer so his hot breath tickled the shell of my ear. "So pure and noble. That's what I love about you."

I shivered and pushed him away, grimacing as he clutched my hands that pushed against his chest. This wasn't the time and most defiantly not the place for a love confession. We were surrounded by bloodies and blood. The ground slippery and muddied with the life soured of the damned. My trusty sword at the time, now my trusty gun, was slowly dripping blood into a puddle and a man, newly slain lay at my feet still alive. I had kneeled down and offered a short prayer for his soul to be forgiven and then gave him a swift death.

James had seen my act and had chosen that moment to profess his 'love,' I had never thought him capable of such an emotion. Sure he was the Prince of Lust and I'd gone a round or two with him- practically everyone had- and he knew his way around a bedroom but love? The thought made me laugh and I had thought he was playing one of his jokes again.

He clasped my hands gingerly and knelt to the bloody ground, soaking his pants in red. He smiled up at me, as if this was the happiest day of his life. All around us, our men stopped fighting and lowered their weapons. My warriors in red and his in green. James bowed his head to my hands he still had in his firm grasp. I tried to pull away my mind screaming in terror, a smile on his face was never good.

"You will be mine forever." He purred.

I looked down at his face twisted in lust and furry. What I had been scared was a proposal had now somehow turned into a threat. I managed to twist my right hand from his grasp. "I belong to no one."

James stayed kneeling and smiling up at me, but I knew he was dead serious. "Then I'll kill anyone you ever lay eyes on. I will rip away all you love until there is only me."

James stood up and elegantly bowed, kissing my hand and my ring finger. I shuttered when his tongue traced a line of saliva on my ring finger, as if marking me. He let go of my hands with a breathy sigh as if I was his long lost love that he had to sadly depart from and turned on his heels, his dark green cape swirling around him like a snake. My men stood as frozen and stunned as I was while James's men cheered loudly and clasped each other on their backs. For once I was stunned silent and actually fearful of the smaller man.

The next week he started sending me all my lovers encased in stone with bloody roses. I slowly learned never to love again because James Moriarty would love ripping it from my hands until I was desperate and crawled back to him. But when Athena sent word of Holmes I had started to feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe I could love again; maybe I could gain my confidence back.

-/-/-/-

"I saw you started a blog. Which is wonderful because now I can stalk your movements without following you around. Plus I'm bored." Mary moaned over the phone.

John chuckled and glanced at his laptop sitting atop the shared desk in the living room of 221B Baker Street. "Get a job."

"Doing what?"

"Weren't you a governess at one time?"

John could hear her eye roll over the phone. "Yeah in the early Victorian era, but the times have changed."

"Now you're just being difficult." John pointed out, from downstairs he heard the front door open and Sherlock bound up the stairs. "I have to go."

"John, don't leave me." Mary whined.

John chuckled fondly as Sherlock walked into their flat. "I'm not going anywhere, we'll talk later Mary." He snapped the phone closed before Mary could continue to protest and looked up into a pair of stormy gray-green eyes.

The Detectives face was cold and angry as his gloved fingers twitched at his side. In his hand Sherlock carried a small plastic bag. He flung the bag onto the kitchen table and stormed into his room before slamming the door closed. John blinked in surprise, wondering what had angered his flatemate. When he had left half an hour ago he was practically floating on air about something. John stood up and walked over to the table to investigate the bag. Inside where five boxes of Earl Gary tea, his favorite. He smiled gently. He was about to go to Sherlock's door and ask what was wrong when Sally Donovan appeared at the door way with a sour expression, he hadn't heard the door open or any movement on the stairs. She silently held out a black cell phone.

Frowning John walked over to the Blood Bond slave- wondering if Anderson was on the other end too scared to talk to him in person- and took the phone. It was silent on the other end.

"Is this a joke?"

"John Watson." A voice on the other end purred.

John's blood froze as a shiver crept up his spine. He knew that voice well; John glanced at Sally who looked away. "What do you want?"

"Did you like my little gift?"

"That's your idea of a gift? That was sick and twisted." John cried out angrily, just thinking of the voodoo doll and heart. Luckily Lestrade had taken it as 'evidence' and had it locked up at the Yard. John couldn't even stand the thought of it remaining in the flat.

"I'll burn him alive, John. Stay away from Sherlock or I'll deliver his heart to you on a silver platter." The crazy voice sang in a sing-song manner.

John's lips trembled as he ended the call and looked at Sally. Her lips twitched as if she was unsure whether to smile or frown. John's skilled eyes ranked over her body before stepping away in disgust. Andersons Blood Bonding masked her true smell, and without him around her true nature was easy to spot. She reeked of Lust, which meant she belonged to him. It figured. John glanced around the small yet cozy flat he shared with Sherlock, thankful the man had been temperamental and stormed into his room. The door was closed and John couldn't hear any movement.

"My lord sends his regard and wishes to invite you to dine with him tonight." She stated formally.

John clenched the phone in his grip; feeling satisfied when it snapped in two and fell from his hands. "Tell him I would rather jump off a building then ever dine with him."

"Dine with him again, you mean." Sally said smugly.

John pointed out the door, with a firm finger. "Get out now, before I send you back to hell where you belong." John took a threatening step forward. "You might think you're so high and mighty for being his messenger but remember you can burn a lot easier then he can."

Sally's dark eyes widened as she backed up and started walking away, even in his cuddly brown jumper John's eyes flared with an inner anger that would rival the pits of hell. John pursed his lips. He didn't enjoy threats and empty threats where just pathetic. He reached out and grabbed her elbow, applying pressure as he leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "I won't give your cover away but if you so much as look at Sherlock again or backstab Lestrade, I will be your personal torturer for the next millennia and I go slow." He let his anger seep through his fingers and burn the imprint of his hand on her arm. Sally yelped and yanked her elbow out his grasp and ran out the door, not even bothering to close it.

Sherlock emerged out of his room, his scarf and jacket missing, but in John's opinion the purple shirt was wonderful enough. "Was that Donovan I heard? Is Anderson here?"

John looked away from Sherlock and down at his hand that gripped air. It felt hot and it felt good. The power he had over her, the fear in her eyes, a deep hunger long suppressed grumbled faintly. John swallowed thickly. This wasn't good. How could he protect Sherlock against himself if he lost control? Unwilling to lie to his friend he looked towards the bag of tea.

"Thanks for getting the tea, we were running low."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth as if he was about to ask John a question before closing his mouth. He turned on his heel and returned to his room without another word. Softly closing his door this time. It was the closest thing John suspected he'd ever get of Sherlock telling him he wasn't upset at him anymore and trusted him to have his own secrets without prying. John smiled softly, it must have taken a lot of self-control for the inquisitive detective not to ask questions or deduce the situation. John glanced down by his feet and sighed at the broken phone. He bend down, picking the parts up and threw them away. His own cell buzzed in his pocket and John pulled it out with a sigh, if it was him he was fully prepared to chuck the device out the window.

Sherlock's not answering his messages, come quick

-Greg

John raised an eyebrow at the message, Sherlock always checked his phone, it was practically glued to his hand. He glanced over at the closed door and limped over, pausing before respectfully knocking. There wasn't a sound, if he hadn't seen Sherlock walk in the room John would have been positive it was void of any life. The detective didn't respond so John tried calling through the door.

"Lestrade has a new case."

Still nothing, John frowned in worry. Was Sherlock ignoring him? He couldn't have fallen asleep that quickly? For a brief moment John wondered if Sherlock climbed out his window, which sounded funny but wasn't something John couldn't see the man doing. Sherlock may have been the most brilliant human being John had ever met in his many years of existence but sometimes that man was worse than a hormonal teenager.

"Sherlock?" John called again and was again met in silence. He was about to open the door and check on his friend, when the door suddenly flew open, smacking him in the face. John stumbled back in surprise, clutching his nose as he hissed in pain and looked up through squinted eyes.

Sherlock was wearing his coat and scarf, his face masked in indifference. He gazed down at his shorter friend, but didn't move a muscle to assist John. "John you call me and then aren't ready yourself. The world doesn't wait for you."

Still holding his nose and hopping it wouldn't start gushing blood John glared up at Sherlock. The lanky man had to have known he was at the door and that if he opened it John would be hit. Conclusion; Sherlock planned to injure John and then pretended as if nothing happened. John envisioned himself punching the self-righteous bastard which helped ease his anger, slightly. Sherlock nodded and walked out the door, expecting John to follow behind as usual. Having lived together for four months had made them fall into a routine, Kohn now craved.

"Why didn't you answer Lestrade's message?" John asked behind his right hand as his left fumbled around with his jacket and he followed Sherlock down the stairs.

Sherlock ignored John's question as they walked out into the street and the tall man hailed a taxi. A black cab imminently pulled up and the two climbed in. Sherlock giving the cabbie an address, so he had read Lestrade's text message. Probably waiting for John to announce it to him. John once again imagined violence towards his friend and felt a bit guilty that he now associated Sherlock with earth shattering kisses and black eyes from punches.

"While having a relationship is fine, I am requesting you don't bring your conquests to the flat. It will interfere with my experiments. I'd also like to avoid crying women at our doorsteps when you move on." Sherlock announced out of the blue.

John's head snapped to the right, jerking himself out of his own musings. Where in God's name did that come from? He wasn't dating anyone, especially a women; he thought that Sherlock knew that, hell the man spent almost every waking hour in his presence. Then it hit him, and John had to school his face into a mask so he wouldn't burst into laughter at the serious expression on Sherlock's face. The detective must have assumed he was dating Mary. It never occurred to him that he's never mentioned her. John was tempted to just fess up and tell Sherlock but decided against it. Best let him pout.

"Next time I seduce a woman I'll keep your advice in mind." John purred leaning forward in the cab, his breath ghosting along Sherlock's ear.

Sherlock stiffened as if he'd been struck by lightning. John couldn't resist the light chuckle that escaped his lips. He backed away from his friend about to apologize for making him uncomfortable when he saw the faint blush spreading over the taller man's face. Sherlock tried to turn his face away so John wouldn't see him flustered but it didn't work. The apology died in John's throat as an idea flashed in his mind. So when he got close to and flirted with the detective he got quiet and flustered? Well this was an interesting turn of events and now John had a full proof plan.

The cabbie pulled up to a park, taped off and surrounded by cop cars as Sherlock dashed out of the cab not even waiting for John as he normally did. John nodded to the cabbie and slowly followed behind his manic friend. At the police line Sally silently lifted the tape, allowing John access as she averted her eyes. He hissed at her as he passed. John walked up to Lestrade and Sherlock heatedly talking, and they grew silent as he approached. John frowned and raised an eyebrow. Sherlock shifted and looked behind him.

"I'll go check out the crime." He said with false cheeriness, which was strange because Sherlock loved murder.

John let his friend go. He turned to Lestrade, just waiting for an answer. The celestial scratched his head and also looked away. "Ok I get the hint, ignore the daemon. We're all just evil entities trying to corrupt the world." John exploded on Lestrade.

He turned on his heel. He wasn't sure if he was angry, or relieved that Sherlock didn't want him anymore. At least now the man would be safe. At the police line Sally looked smugly happy as she once again lifted the yellow tape for him, giving a small mock bow. He wondered along the streets aimlessly just blowing off steam. The humans, as usual, gave him plenty of space and avoided him like the plague. A thought struck John that had him grounded in place. Had Lestrade told Sherlock? Why did he care? Why did the thought of Sherlock with Lestrade make his blood boil? Had Lestrade claimed Sherlock? Didn't he have a crush on Mycroft? What about him, wouldn't it be better to let the two men go? John hung his head and leaned against a brick wall. He couldn't and he hated himself for being so selfish. Only a few months of Sherlock's constant company and John couldn't; imagine life without him. He was a breath of fresh air. He growled at the thought of the lanky man with another before a thought invaded his mind and shook him to the core. He was acting just like James.

John shook his head. No he wouldn't do that. John took a deep breath, clearing his mind. He was here to look for the next heir and he should care about that only. John considered his two options. Sherlock was brash and childish while what he could get was Mycroft was analytical and closed off. Both were brilliant and cunning, but in the end Mycroft seemed his best candidate and if he thought about it Sherlock was Lestrade's best candidate; the man was so pure and open.

The red phone booth across from where he stood rang, interrupting his thoughts. John smiled. Speak of the devil. He limped over and walked in picking up the phone. "Hello."

"Care for a lift." Mycroft said with a smile as a black car pulled up next to the phone booth.

John smiled widely and left the booth, the phone hanging from its hook and walked over to the car. Mycroft opened the door and stepped out with a flourish. Athena was absent but John was ok with that. He slid into the back leather seats and ginned back at Mycroft as the car started up.

"I apologize for my brothers behaviors." Mycroft said with genuine sadness.

John shook his head, actually understanding where the man was coming from. He often felt the need to apologize on Harry's behalf. Mycroft continued on. "I should have suspected he'd go tried of me."

Mycroft narrowed his eyes and crossed his legs. "On the contrary he's grown closer to you, I know my brother and he's just acting like a child."

John absorbed that bit of information and felt his stomach loosen in knots. In truth he didn't want to leave Sherlock and his possessiveness was scaring him. Would he commit acts of violence on innocent victims when Sherlock refused him? Would he finally snap and give into the bloodlust that always lingered on the edge of his mind, wanting to consume him in blood and darkness. Turn him into the monster he had become. Mycroft interrupted his musing once more.

"Athea told me you needed to talk."

John raised an eyebrow at the name but let it slide. He was grateful for his assistant who knew his mind before he even made it up. John took a deep breath and turned giving Mycroft his full attention. The small cabin of the black car felt warm as John slowly oozed his demonic presence to get the human used to the feel.

"We're both business men and I have a once in a lifetime proposition for you."

Mycroft shifted slight, something John contributed to the increase in his energy, but didn't seem to uncomfortable but instead intrigued. "I'm listening."

"Mycroft you are not as innocent and pure as your younger brother, which is why I think you protect him so much, so that what little light of good you think you still possess will stay with him."

Mycroft nodded his eyes glazed over as if in a daze. "Yes."

John held out his hand and traced the counter clockwise circle, the sins of the man in front of him elegantly writing themselves on his hand. There were so many, John could feel the writing on his arm and shoulder. He held his hand up to Mycroft, whose lips had fallen open in shock and amazement.

"How would you like to make a deal with the devil?"

Thanks for reading!

LittleMissDreamer7-You flatter my ego to heights that scare me! WoW I'm just so thrilled you like this sooo much that truly makes me very happy! The best ever? Hahah thanks

Icy Sapphire15- illogical mystrade….I totally agree and I don't know why but they just….fit so well. It's totally strange!

Yuki- Awwww…well I corrected that! Yeahhhhhh

Phantom- oh that ok! Thanks for the manga I really like it…..and OMG she's part angel…..soo cool! Oh John's reaction….I see well I will better explain it in the next chapter. I don't see him as a pansy either just one who doesn't want to go graze with bloodlust. Hahaha twilight- is a joke! No no I loved the negative feedback and ..if that's your view of negative WoW ur a super nice person cause that was just uber helpful. I hope this chapter is better for you.