Raidan sat alone in the stainless steel room, no doors, no windows. A video camera was in front of him, and he brushed a strand of dark, curly black hair away from his eyes, refusing to talk. Hazel eyes darted all arond the room, cold as stone.

Through the observation window, his closest friend, Lucas, ran a hand through his unruly brown hair and cursed, brown eyes raging. "Come on, Raidan, talk. Talk, man."

The tall, blonde woman across from him glared, and tapped her pale foot lightly. "You sure he'll tell us about Elyse? He's pretty much the only one who would know of her whereabouts. Isn't Desmond his father?" Her eyes narrowed at the teenage boy before her.

Lucas nodded. "They were never close." He glanced a Raidan again.

"What about his sister, Romy?" The woman asked. "Wouldn't she know?"

"They weren't speaking when Waverly was lost," Lucas admitted, looking downward. "Will she be okay?"

"I can't promise anything," The woman said briskly, her white pantsuit pristine and unstained. "But demons have ways of breaking down angels. They can't stand bad people."

"We aren't bad people," Lucas muttered, more to himself than the woman. "Not bad people."

There are two sides to every story, and I happen to be on the bad one.

Everyone knows how most stories go. Light defeats dark, the prince gets the princess, good prevails, yada yada yada. But what happens when the prince isn't a good guy? What if he's the bad guy? Oh my God, I made a Twilight reference. Don't let anyone at school know about this okay? It never happened.

I live in a world where there are creatures so dark and deadly they can only be called one thing: demons. All have similar traits and all cannot be detected. It's rare for families to all be demons, but you're looking at one of the two natural born demons in this world today. Demons are usually made, not born. My twin sister Romy and I were both born of two demon parents. It's not a big deal though. To us. To every other demon in the world? Makes us royalty.

The funny thing is, mortals can't detect us. I hang around tons of 'normal' people (so far all have been addicted to drugs and lie on a regular basis; I've done my job well) and even though I know I'm horrible for them and I'm jacking up their lives, I can't be bothered to care. A job's a job, and I'm supposed to wreak havoc. Romy has convinced thirteen girls to get pregnant and has been giving horrible haricuts all around. Sure, we don't sound that bad. It's because we aren't.

The only time we actually get really, really bad is the crescent moon. That's when we go crazy. It's not pretty. But honestly, I didn't choose this. I was born this way. Great, now it's a GaGa reference. Fantastic.

I also live in a world where there a creatures so good and pure that it makes you want to run away for fear of not measuring up. And trust me, I have felt like that. Angels, is what we demons call them. I guess that's their biological name, but we usualy call them so many things that I prefer angel. It's less bitter.

Which now that I think about it that may not be so good.

I was facing the computer screen, killing off random zombies and crap. My headset was turned up, and I heard Lucas cursing like a sailor through it. He was my best friend, ever since we were in diapers.

"Damn!" He screamed, and I grinned. "I think I died."

"Of course you did, you suck at this game," I smirked. My hazel eyes darted over to the level number. 53. Oh yes, I was on a roll. I heard a knock on my door and groaned. "What do you want?"

Romy sauntered in, hair in a braid down her tan back. "Mom says dinner is ready if you're interested," she frowned, looking to the game. She took the controller from me and quickly killed about a hundred zombies, advancing me to the next level. "You aren't on level 124 yet? Huh. Well, there's like this apocalypse thing at the end of it and it's freaking awesome. Anyway, dinner." She left before I could respond. Lucas whistled.

"Damn, that girl is fine," he grinned, and I wanted to slap him across his head.

"Watch it, that's my sister you're talking about," I muttered. She wasn't considered hot to anyone besides Lucas, thank God. Otherwise I'd have to kick some ass. I did listen to locker room conversations, after all, and all guys could talk about was Meria Waters. She was this short, annoying blonde girl who I was ninety-five percent sure was a demon too. Or just plain mean. We dated a while back but she's nothing to get excited about.

"Fine then. We can talk about the darling little ex of yours." I could practically see him grinning through the headphones. I snorted.

"Oh yes. Worst date I've ever been on."

"You've been on two dates. You can't talk man," Lucas grinned, and I heard the sounds of more shooting. "Yes! I kick zombie ass!"

"Well, one of them was with Meria, and she's annoying. All she would talk about was her stupid dog and how stupid it was. I honestly didn't give a crap."

"Raidan!" I heard mom shout from downstairs. "Care to join us?"

"Crap," I groaned. "I gotta go eat. See you at school tomorrow."

"You betcha."

We diconnected. I turned off my computer and trudged downstairs, wondering what kind of meat we'd be having tonight. Dad was crazy about anything that once walked, swam, or breathed. If it was legal, I sometimes wondered if he'd eat humans.

Romy was on one side of the round table, looking bored in a red ribbed tank and dark wash jeans. She was texting underneath the table and her vaguely Latina looking features were contorted in either confusion or anger. I couldn't tell. While Romy and I were twins, we had major differences, too. For one thing, while she was tan, short, and slender with brown eyes, I was six foot one, pale as a ghost, and not really the most muscular guy around.

Mom was at one end, with dark, curly brown hair and wide, hazel eyes. I looked the most like her. She was about Romy's build and always had a sneaky gleam in her eyes. Dad, however, was Latin and had gray hair that was always gelled down. He had Romy's brown eyes, or should I say, she had his. His skin was dark and had the aura of danger. I was never close to him.

Steak was on everyone's plates, so I sat down and began to cut it. My kitchen was decorated with reds and browns, and all our plates were slate grey. They had penchants for dark colors. I put a bite of medium-well steak in mouth, then my dad said, "So, Raidan. How has school been? Any girls in the picture?"

Oh yes. I got asked this question about three times a week. Because-

"The more you date, the more hearts you break, and less good is done in the world!" My mother chirped.

Yeah. What she said.

"And, you know, little grand-demons would be absolutely wonderful," mom sighed. I slammed my fork down.

"Grandchildren. Grandchildren. Not demons. We're still human," I glared. Romy snorted. I glared at her too.

"I apologize for my sister," Romy smirked. "She's not big on being who you are."

I stood and practically flew across the table, trying to beat the living shit out of her. Dad grabbed my shoulders, hurling me into the kitchen floor. I stood and glared at my family. Romy was pale, and expressionless. Mom looked exasperated.

"Don't do that," Dad spat. "You've got a lot of nerve, boy."

I sulked up to my room and turned on my computer, ready to kill some more zombies. Typical day in my house.