WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT! (Relax, it's NOT from Alastor)

Slightly shorter than the previous chapters, but DAMN does this one drop a bomb.

Title Song: "Accidentally In Love" by Counting Crows (okay, so the song doesn't fit the mood of this chapter, I was just looking for a suitable title)

Rosie was wrong. Lilith was wrong. The Radio Demon was not in love. Especially not with a human he hadn't officially met.

At least that's what he tried telling himself as he followed Tina Davis on her nightly walk to work. Yet again.

As the weather grew colder, she was prepared with a white knitted beanie and matching scarf. For some reason, these accessories made her look positively adorable, like a child ready to play in the snow. Lilith's outfit analogy came to Alastor's mind, and he realized he had yet to find an outfit he didn't like on her. Even the tacky burlesque costumes hadn't bothered him as much as they did on other beings. They all accentuated her figure quite splendidly. He wondered how she would look in something from his era. She would've made quite the flapper gal.

By Satan, why couldn't he stay away from this woman? Did coming within proximity of her somehow renew its effects, like how one recharged a battery? Did this happen with the other demons?

Now that he thought about it, he'd never seen the same demon around Tina twice. After she rejected them or Alastor waylaid them, they didn't return. They didn't seem compelled to. Like the effects really did wear off after a short time.

So, if that was the case, why was he still compelled to return to her?

Another set of footsteps alerted the Radio Demon. A white man dressed in a gray, hooded coat was walking but a few feet away from Tina. At first, Alastor thought this was another demon affected by the curse, but he had no demonic aura about him. This was an ordinary human.

When a man followed a woman this late at night in such a purposeful stride, it was often for one of two reasons, and neither of them were savory.

Tina was too stuck in her own head to hear the approaching footsteps. The walk to work was familiar enough that she could run on autopilot. Man, she really didn't want to go to work right now, but to curl up on her couch at home and sleep. She'd been so exhausted lately, no matter how many hours of shut eye she managed to snag. Dreams were simply preferable to reality. Even the nightmares.

That exhaustion was quickly forced out of her as a pair of arms snatched her from behind, one hand covering her mouth. She bit down on the hand, but the owner's glove was too thick for it to do anything.

"Don't scream. It's me, Tina."

Tina stopped struggling as her assailant pulled her into the nearest alley. That voice. That voice that had haunted her dreams for almost a year now. No. Not him. Not again.

"Sorry for jumping you like this, baby. But this was the only way I could talk to you after you blocked my number."

He released her and Tina whirled around to meet a pair of piercing blue eyes. Eyes she'd been hoping to never see again.

"E-Ethan," she croaked.

The pepper spray and taser in her bag were forgotten as memories of the last time she'd been in this man's presence flooded her brain, traveling through her veins until she was frozen in place.

Ethan smirked. "I've missed you, Teeny."

He reached for her, and, to the surprise of the demon watching from the shadows, she didn't recoil. Her hands were in fists at her chest, but she didn't throw a punch. It was unusual after seeing her response to her other attackers. This one, she seemed to know.

The hand on her shoulder knocked enough sense back into Tina for her to quickly stepped out of reach. "You…shouldn't be here. How…how'd ya even—?"

"Facebook, of course." Ethan shrugged. "You know, you really should set your workplace to private. And I still have your address on file, so it wasn't hard figuring out your route."

Alastor waited for Tina to hit him, tase him, spray him, tell him off, anything. But she simply stood there, still as a statue. What's wrong with her?

Through her quivering lips, she managed to utter, "G-Go home to your wife. Leave me alone."

Ethan threw his head back with a groan. "Can we stop bringing that bitch up? I'm only with Carrie for her money, babe. And she's been so annoying lately, what with her wanting to try for a baby and shit. I mean that wouldn't be so bad if she were any good in bed."

So, this was Carrie's husband, the one who'd had an affair with Tina. Alastor should've expected the man to be a cad, but what astonished him was Tina's reaction. It was as if the mere sight of Ethan were enough to reduce this usually bold, argumentative woman to a helpless, almost catatonic damsel.

The scene was familiar to the Radio Demon. He'd seen it hundreds of times in his own childhood home. This was how his mother would act around his father. Right before he beat her.

Bile welled up in Alastor's throat at the sick realization. No wonder Tina acted brash around males who flirted with her. No wonder she took happy pills and drank excessively. No wonder she didn't seem to have any friends or connections outside of work. She wasn't a homewrecker like Carrie had said. By the looks of things, her role in the affair hadn't been a willing one.

Tina had built a wall around herself, becoming standoffish so no one would come close enough to hurt her ever again. Alastor had built such a wall himself long ago, except he kept people out with his nonchalance, only letting them in with charm when he wanted something. But this Ethan had bulldozed that wall of hers, crumbling her spirit.

"I've missed you, Teeny." Ethan drew closer to her. "You were always a lot more fun."

Her back hit the alley wall. "I…I don't—"

"Yeah, you do." He planted his arms on either side of her. "You know you never had it as good as me."

Alastor gritted his teeth. I shouldn't get involved.

Enough urgency sparked in Tina for her to try to duck out of his entrapment, but he quickly grabbed her triceps. "P-Please—"

"Aw, man." Ethan leaned in and sniffed her neck. "I love it when you beg."

This isn't my business.

Her hands pushed against his chest. "S-Stop."

He thrashed her against the wall. The thump of Tina's head caused the static within Alastor to rise.

I should just walk away.

"You owe me, Tina. Business has been slow since you left." He pressed his abdomen against her as he undid the button of his trousers. "It's gotten me really pent up."

Shadows stretched across the alley. This is a human affair that doesn't concern me.

The trousers were down. "Come on. You know you've missed this too, bitch."

That was when Alastor's very thin thread of self-control snapped.

Tina shut her eyes, praying for this moment to be over, when suddenly, Ethan was yanked off her. She opened her eyes to see a dark figure slamming him against the wall. Her breath hitched at the bone-shattering crunch that rang out.

A voice, distorted and crackling as if from a radio, hissed, "Get your filthy hands off my woman, you wretch!"

Another slam of Ethan's body rekindled Tina's sense of self-preservation. While she was grateful for the rescue, the violent nature of this person set off all the red alerts in her brain. She sprang into a run, but the alley had somehow grown even darker so that she couldn't properly see where she was going. Her foot caught on a loose brick, tripping her.

A thin hand caught her wrist, an arm ensnaring her middle. Then, like something out of an old-fashioned Hollywood film, she found herself suspended in mid-air, staring up into the face of her rescuer. Well, not exactly, as their face was hidden in shadow. All she could see were their eyes. Red, glowing, devoid of white. And those dark, otherworldly pupils were focused on her.

She was too spellbound to react. Was she dreaming? Hallucinating from the shock of the attempted rape? Was her savior wearing some kind of weird contacts?

The mysterious arm tightened around her waist in a possessive manner. As if this person had every intention of stealing her away themselves.

And that was exactly what was going through Alastor's mind as her eyes bore into his, holding no fear but curiosity. The scent of peaches and lavender invaded his nostrils, likely from whatever beauty products she used. Her chest rose and fell, but she didn't struggle or try to fend him off. She felt so light in his arms, and yet it was as if he held the entire world. And he wanted nothing more than to keep holding her for as long as she would allow.

It would be so easy. All he'd need to do was throw her over his shoulder and teleport her back to Hell. There, he would keep her safe. No other man or demon would dare try to harm her again. None of them deserved her. Only he did.

It was that thought that snapped Alastor back to his senses. Only I deserve her? But that would mean I…

"Hey!" A voice called. "What's going on over here?"

Alastor looked up to find a police officer turning the corner. Hastily, he settled Tina onto her feet and disappeared into the shadows.

The officer checked the heap that was Ethan on the ground. After calling for an ambulance, he asked Tina questions, but she was too dazed to hear him.

By the time the ambulance arrived, she'd calmed down enough to give her statement to the police, saying that her former boss had attempted to assault her, but some vigilante had bashed him into the wall. Fortunately, the state of Ethan's trousers and the cops deeming she was too weak to have taken such a strong man on her own gave them reason to believe her story. But she knew if she'd given all the details, that wouldn't have been the case.

Someone had saved her. Like a phantom, they'd come out of nowhere, vanishing just as quickly. Somehow, the darkness had obscured most of their features, except for those eerie, red eyes. And that voice had been like something out of a horror movie, laced with static like he'd been using a special voice modulator. It had been a male, that much she could tell.

But the words he'd said were more haunting than the nature of his voice. Get your filthy hands off my woman, you wretch. My woman.

The constant feeling of being watched was starting to make sense now. She'd thought it'd been Ethan, but did she have another crazy stalker after her? That possibility made her wonder if she should be thankful for this mysterious stranger, or worried.

In the swampy outskirts of Pentagram City, the Radio Demon paced around his mansion. As he passed through each room, the lights flickered, his many personal radios whirred through several channels, the hands of the clocks spun uncontrollably, the keys of his piano sprang to life with a discordant melody. He stayed clear of the connected radio tower so he wouldn't accidentally broadcast his emotional torrent for all of Hell to hear.

How could he have been so reckless? He'd stopped rapists before, in life and death. But he was a demon now and this had been an altercation between two humans. It had been one thing to protect Tina from all those other demons, but he was under no contractual obligation to save her from another human. Alastor was lucky he hadn't outright killed Ethan, because that would've surely gotten Heaven's attention.

Worst of all, Alastor had risked revealing himself to Tina. Unless directly summoned, demons weren't supposed to provide humans with proof of their existence. He wondered how much Tina had seen and what she would tell the authorities. The latter he didn't worry about, as any ravings about demons would be chalked up to hysteria from the traumatic event.

The alley had been dark, thanks to his shadows. She must not have seen much of him, at least not enough to figure out he wasn't human, or else she would've fought against him. Then again, she might've simply been frozen in shock. He thought back to the way she'd trembled in his arms, the way her hand had clutched to his jacket for support, the way her dark, prying eyes had stared into his.

Something had passed between them then. Something Alastor wasn't familiar with. He didn't know what, how, or why, only that he'd been overcome with the sudden urge to take her home, to claim her as his, to make her…

My woman.

That's what he'd said while throwing Ethan against the wall. What had possessed Alastor to say that? Tina wasn't his. He didn't own her. But for some unfathomable reason, he wanted to.

He pulled at his hair, ignoring the pain from the clumps he ripped from his scalp. This wasn't anything like wanting to own a soul. Wanting a soul meant wanting control over another person. Control wasn't what he desired from Tina. That woman was too headstrong to allow such a thing. Alastor admired that trait of hers so much that if he ever managed to possess her, he'd encourage it.

It wasn't enough to be a mere spectator, he wanted to be a full participant in her existence. When she chewed the scum of the earth out with her words, he wanted to be the one to cheer her on. When she performed onstage, he wanted to be the one in the audience she winked at. When she was at her lowest, and her mask of confidence would fall, he wanted to be the one she trusted to comfort her.

Whatever Tina Davis faced, whatever she decided to do, he wanted to be a part of it.

As he let the handfuls of hair fall to the floor, a scent caught in his nostrils. He sniffed at his coat, detecting peaches. He then realized it was perfume, which must've clung to him when he'd held Tina. Normally, Alastor didn't like sweet things, but inhaling the scent strengthened his memories of the woman who'd bewitched him, sending a wave of euphoria through his bones. How he craved to hold her again, to drink in more of this intoxicating scent, to feel the warmth of her living body against his, to stare into the depths of her soul through those beautiful, brown eyes.

Screaming in frustration, Alastor tore his coat off and considered incinerating it. But, as this was his favorite coat, he settled on rolling it up and tossing it aside, not paying attention to where it landed.

By Satan, he was done for.

Despite everything Lilith had told him, Alastor kept trying to blame his growing interest on the curse. But he knew in his heart that wasn't the case. Even before he'd cast the spell, Tina had intrigued him. The curse had only given him a reason to come back. And no matter how many days went by without him seeing her, his thoughts never strayed from her.

This was it then. After over a century of existence, the feeling of which he'd thought himself immune had finally struck him. Alastor, the demon, the killer, the sadist, was in love. The moment he admitted the truth to himself, the rattling of his mansion ceased as the storm of confusion calmed into a sea of acceptance.

The question was how he should proceed with this newfound emotion. Never mind that the woman wasn't aware of his existence, she was still living. True, that was only a temporary state, but Alastor wasn't certain he could wait that long. She could live for another four or five decades, plenty of time for her to fall for someone else. Not to mention her sins were so ambiguous, there was no guarantee she would end up in Hell. The constraints of his contract with Lilith prevented him from ending her life early. Which was just as well, as he didn't think he could do such a thing if he were allowed. Not to Tina.

There was also the matter of his deal with Carrie. He was supposed to find an unsuitable match for Tina, not fantasize himself as a match. Severing the deal would require agreement from both parties involved, and he doubted Carrie would be up for that. And it was only a matter of time before Lilith found out he'd been slacking on his duties.

It didn't matter how Alastor felt about Tina. His job was to pair her with another man. A vile man. A cruel man. A despicable man. A man who would make her life a living Hell.

Wait.

He stopped pacing, the gears turning in his head as he looked around his hellish home.

He was vile. He was cruel. He was despicable. And he lived in literal Hell.

Yes, Carrie's vague description of an unsuitable partner left just enough gray area for him to fulfill his deal and his desires.

Could he? Should he? The Radio Demon hadn't given much thought to marriage before. Maybe in life, he'd considered taking a wife to make him less suspicious a character in the eyes of the public, but he'd been shot before he could take the matter any further. Even then, his motivations had never been romantic.

But now, various domestic images were spinning through his mind. Coming home after a long day of work to a freshly cooked meal, Tina greeting him with a peck on the cheek, the two of them eating at a table, discussing each other's days. There were so many things they could do together. Play a duet at the piano, maybe sing, dance to the radio, and then retire to bed and…

Heat rushed to his cheeks. That part, he was still unsure about. But the rest of it, the notion of having Tina in his home, as his wife, sounded positively lovely.

Emboldened by this ingenious idea, Alastor whizzed about his mansion, using his magic to renovate certain rooms, summon new furniture and feminine essentials, make the place worthy of a female presence. Hours of frequent snapping later, his fingers were sore.

There was just one problem left. How to get Tina down here. Humans were forbidden from entering Hell before their time, despite the human trafficking on the black market. As easy as it would be, Alastor didn't like the idea of taking his darling against her will. Carrie wanted Tina to be miserable, but hadn't specified how miserable. She was sure to be miserable in some sense in Hell, which would be enough to fulfill the deal, but Alastor didn't want to put her in a position to hate him.

No, he had to get her to agree to be his bride. Maybe she won't love him right away, but that could come with time. He would be good to her, take care of her, be the husband she deserved and more. Most importantly, he'd protect her from other demons affected by the curse.

Alastor stopped in front of a floor-length mirror, catching his reflection. His demonic form had never bothered him. Although frightening, he thought himself handsomer than most demons in Hell. His string of persisting admirers was proof of that.

But now, for the first time since he fell, the sight of his reflection caused his ears to falter. He leaned in, staring into his soulless, bloodred eyes. He picked at his fangs, which had torn through the flesh of so many demons.

How would Tina react to his appearance? Would she scream in fright, recoil in disgust, try to knock his teeth out and run?

He couldn't hide the fact he was a demon. That much would be apparent in the spells he cast. But did she have to know everything about him? Appearances aside, he wasn't exactly husband material. Acting gentlemanly didn't erase the sins that had landed him in Hell. No woman would fall for a man like him, knowing his every nitty gritty secret. No sane woman, that is.

If Tina didn't fall for the wiles of an impolite stagehand, or an aggressive employer, she was certainly not falling for a murderous demon.

There was only one solution. He would have to hide as much of his demonic side as possible. Not just his appearance, but his many, many vices. Only in showing his virtues did he have a chance of winning Tina over.

As for getting her down here, he would have to lie in wait. Tina was an intelligent, stubborn dame, but even the strongest souls were bound to someday reach their breaking point. The moment she found herself in a state so hopeless she would do anything to get out of it, he would make his move. Then he would have her. And not even death could ever part them.