1 – The Local Witch Shop
Tank wasn’t the kind of guy who normally stepped into witchy shops.
But after spending the entire damn night trying to find anything real about Asmodeus, he was out of options.
The internet had been a joke—half the shit was about Dungeons & Dragons, and the other half was Solomonic demonology that didn’t match anything he was experiencing.
If there was actual, useful information out there, it wasn’t in some occult wiki.
So here he was—Hex & Bone, the little esoteric shop tucked between a vegan café and a tattoo parlor.
The moment he stepped inside, the scent of dried herbs, incense, and old books hit him. Dim lighting, shelves stacked with tarot decks, candles, and bottles of oils—exactly what he expected.
A woman behind the counter, older, graying hair in a messy bun, gave him a once-over as he walked in.
He didn’t blame her.
Tank didn’t exactly look like her usual clientele.
“Help you find something?” she asked.
Tank hesitated. He wasn’t sure how the hell to phrase this.
But before he could speak—
“Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Tank froze.
Turned his head.
And there—standing by a bookshelf labeled DEMONOLOGY & SPIRITS—was Heath.
---
2 – The Confrontation
Tank sighed. “Of course you’re here.”
Heath smirked, arms crossed, looking way too pleased to have caught him. “I could say the same about you.”
Tank walked past him, scanning the books. “Not in the mood, Heath.”
“Oh, come on,” Heath teased. “A big, brooding barber wandering into the occult shop looking for… what exactly?”
Tank clenched his jaw.
He wasn’t about to tell Heath shit.
Not unless Heath gave him a reason to.
But Heath wasn’t letting this go.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You looking for information on Atlas?”
Tank’s shoulders tensed.
Bingo.
Heath grinned, seeing the reaction. “You know, I’ve been looking into him too.”
Tank sighed, rubbing his temples. “Heath.”
“I tried to warn you about him, remember?” Heath pressed. “And now you’re here. Trying to find out exactly what you got yourself into.”
Tank turned to him, eyes narrowing. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
Heath tilted his head. “Don’t I?”
He leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “I know Atlas isn’t just some guy. I know he’s something else. And I know he’s changing you.”
Tank exhaled slowly, keeping himself calm.
Heath was digging.
And the worst part?
He wasn’t wrong.
Tank grabbed a book off the shelf at random, flipping through it. “And what exactly do you think he is?”
Heath watched him carefully. “A demon.”
Tank chuckled dryly. “That simple, huh?”
Heath’s eyes flickered. “More than that. Clay told me Atlas serves something older. Something with real power.”
Tank’s stomach tightened.
Because Heath had just confirmed it.
Atlas hadn’t been lying.
But Heath didn’t know everything.
Tank shut the book in his hands and turned to face him fully.
“You really wanna know?” Tank murmured.
Heath nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
Tank exhaled. “Fine.”
And then—
He told him everything.
---
3 – Spilling the Truth
Tank kept his voice low as he spoke.
About meeting Atlas.
About what happened at Bear Bash.
About the power curling under his skin, about his control slipping, about the dream where Atlas revealed the truth.
Asmodeus.
By the time he finished, Heath was staring at him, his breath a little uneven.
Tank crossed his arms. “Happy now?”
Heath was silent for a long moment.
Then—
His lips parted into a slow, excited grin.
“This is fucking incredible.”
Tank sighed heavily.
Of course, this was Heath’s reaction.
“Dude.” Heath’s eyes were shining. “You’re literally being transformed by a being that serves a god of lust and domination. Do you realize how—”
Tank grabbed him by the collar and yanked him close, voice low and dangerous.
“If you don’t shut the fuck up about this,” he growled, “I’ll shut you up myself.”
Heath shuddered.
Not with fear.
With something else.
Something Tank didn’t have time to unpack.
He let go, stepping back.
Heath adjusted his shirt, smirking. “Touchy.”
Tank exhaled through his nose. “You don’t get it. If you keep running your mouth, this gets dangerous.”
Heath’s expression shifted.
For a brief moment, he looked serious.
And then—
The hunger returned.
He leaned against the shelf, studying Tank. “So what happens now?”
Tank shook his head. “Nothing. I keep my shit under control. And you keep your mouth shut.”
Heath’s grin was slow, lazy. “Sure. For now.”
Tank clenched his jaw.
Because Heath was enjoying this way too much.
And that meant he was going to be a problem.
One way or another.
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