Be Careful What You Wish For: A Zombie Apocalypse
Chapter 513: A Date With Destruction

Chapter 513: A Date With Destruction

Perched on top of Dante’s lap, I looked around the audience room. The demons on the floor looked everywhere but at me, and I could almost taste the fear coming off them.

Lucky for them, it wasn’t them that I wanted to fuck with at the moment.

My eyes scanned over my guys, even as I tried to bite back the smirk on my face. I needed someone fun, someone who would give me everything that I wanted.

My eyes landed on my target, and I couldn’t help the purr that came out of my mouth.

Eric.

He was trying very hard not to make eye contact—rigid in his wooden throne, arms crossed like he could somehow shield himself from the attention I was about to dump on him like glitter from a cursed piñata.

He was so determined to fade into the background that there was only one thing I could do.

I pointed right at him.

"You. Up," I smirked, sliding off Dante’s lap and skipping toward my target.

He blinked at me, trying to figure out what was going on. "What?" he grunted.

"Congrats," I said, popping my lollipop out of my mouth. "You’re the chosen one. Time for a date."

Eric’s eyes narrowed like I’d just declared war. "A... date?"

I nodded, a bright smile on my face.

"Is this optional?"

"Nope."

I snapped my fingers, and his clothes shifted—black jeans, combat boots, a deep crimson button-down rolled at the sleeves, and a leather jacket with just enough edge to say yes, I like explosions, but no, I’m not here to talk about my feelings.

"You planned this," he muttered as he stood reluctantly.

"Darling, I’m chaos incarnate. Of course I planned this." Now, that was a bald-faced lie. What was the fun of doing anything if it was planned down to the smallest of details? Nope. Eric and I were winging it.

And it was going to be epic.

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City O wasn’t dead. Or at least it wasn’t anymore.

Sure, it still bore the scars—crumbling buildings, gutted storefronts, half-melted streetlamps curling like twisted fingers toward the sky. The streets were cracked, and the scent of dead bodies still clung to the bones of forgotten alleys.

But life had returned in soft, defiant ways.

Tarps stretched across skeletal roofs, held up by little more than a flimsy barricade. But it was a start.

A little girl ran barefoot down the street, giggling as a hellhound twice her size chased after her, both oblivious to the cracks beneath their feet. An old man hammered boards over a broken window while a demon, twice his size with black horns curved like sickles, stood beside him, offering silent assistance.

Rebuilding their lives and the city together.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not because they trusted each other, but simply because the alternative was so much worse... on both sides.

Eric watched all of this with a strange look on his face. "I don’t think I ever really believed it could be like this again," he muttered, hands in his pockets as he made sure to keep pace with me.

I skipped ahead a bit, the heels of my Mary Janes clicking against the uneven sidewalk. "Why not?"

"I don’t know," he shrugged, taking everything in. "Maybe I thought we’d just burn it all down and let it rot."

"Oh, we did," I assured him, spinning once beneath a flickering streetlamp. "But humans are stubborn. And demons are bored. You wouldn’t know it, but that’s a surprisingly strong foundation to rebuild a civilization on."

Eric smiled in spite of himself. "Is that why you brought me here? To give me hope?"

"No," I scoffed. "I brought you here to wreak havoc. Hope’s just a side effect."

We walked through what was once the most famous place in O City, or what was left of it. Music no longer poured out of the clubs, but someone had dragged an old upright piano into the street and started playing softly for tips. Half the keys stuck. The notes were crooked, but it was enough to put a pep in everyone’s step.

A demon vendor with a human assistant was frying up what smelled like beignets over open flame. With a sly smile, I stole one without asking, tossing a coin behind me like a tip as powdered sugar trailed behind me.

While something off to the side caught my eye, Eric took the beignet away from me, broke it in half, and shoved the bigger half into my mouth. "You’re going to give that poor man a heart attack."

I chewed the sweet, doughy delight happily. "Did you see the look on his face? He almost passed out from joy."

"He almost passed out from terror," Eric corrected, rolling his eyes.

But seriously? I don’t remember the last time I had had this much fun.

Licking the sugar off my fingers, I then dragged him even further down the street. "C’mon," I whined. "You’re brooding. It’s date night. No brooding allowed."

Eric smiled as he let me tug him forward. "Is this what a date with the Devil is like?"

"No, this is what a date with me is like," I stressed, turning back to face him. "The Devil throws people off rooftops for shits and giggles. I just want to cause minor property damage and maybe flash someone."

"You’re such a romantic."

"I know. That’s why you love me."

He didn’t deny it.

They passed a man and woman holding hands tightly, eyes wide as they watched Hattie with wary recognition. The husband pulled the wife closer to his side, protective and terrified in equal measure.

The Devil was smiling.

That was never a good sign.

I winked at them and skipped past. How narcissistic do you have to be to think that I was coming for you? I mean, really. If I wanted to take you out, you would never see me coming.

Eric glanced back at the couple. "They’re scared of you."

"Of course they are," I scoffed. After all, I had the power of life and death over these people. If they weren’t a tiny bit scared of me, then there had to be something wrong with them.

"But... they’re still here."

"They always are." My smile didn’t falter. "Humans survived worse. Demons too. It’s not about whether or not they’re afraid of me. It’s about whether or not they’re willing to live with me in their world. And spoiler alert, they really don’t have a choice in the matter. It’s me or Hades."

He looked around again—at the hammered boards, the new wiring, the demons stringing up lanterns from cracked balconies. "I think they are."

"They’re trying," I shrugged. "Until the next wish, of course."

Looking around, I spotted something perfect. "Wanna fuck in the back of that bar?" I purred, a big smile on my face.

Eric choked on air, but I was already walking toward the broken doorway, my hips swaying. "C’mon, Eric. You haven’t lived until you’ve been defiled beside a broken jukebox in post-apocalyptic O City. Or so I’ve heard."

The first murderer, Cain, the Original God of Destruction, didn’t even hesitate as he smiled at his woman.

What could he say? There were certain advantages of being pussy whipped.

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