AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You didn’t go to a healer first? Isn’t your mom a healer? Or you could go to a sorcerer, but that would be expensive, and you’re saving up your money for something more important than yourself. You need a boyfriend who forces you to splurge and go to spas and have fun.”
“I wouldn’t ever have a boyfriend who forces me to do anything.”
“Or any kind of boyfriend at all, obviously, but since we’re talking in hypotheticals, let’s also make him filthy rich, and a natural born demon killer.”
I sighed heavily. “And your girlfriend can be poor and sweet and make you cupcakes.”
“I would never eat cupcakes.”
“What’s wrong with cupcakes? Everyone likes cupcakes. They’re like cake, only cute.”
He blinked at me. “You like cupcakes?”
“Of course. Have you never had a cupcake? Ah, so genius, but doesn’t know what it’s like to eat a cupcake. Tell you what, if you find my dad, on top of getting to meet him and earn his gratitude, unless he hates me at first sight, and you earn his loathing… hm. I shouldn’t have said that out loud. Anyway, I’ll take you out for cupcakes. I won’t even make them for you, so you don’t have to worry about them being drugged.”
“Oh, no. If I find your father, you have to make me cupcakes, without drugging them, in my favorite flavors, with frosting illustrations of my beautiful face on top. And then you have to eat them.” He smiled maliciously.
I cleared my throat and eased a step away from him. “What are your favorite flavors?” Fire-hot I could do, but if it was some kind of raw werewolf or blood pudding, I was out. But I’d tell him that after he’d found my father.
“I’ll tell you later.” Ah. He was onto my game. No kidding since he’d invented it. “Describe the demon attack in detail.”
I did, outlining the whole thing, tail tripping my board, and him lifting me up and licking me and smelling my blood. “And then he said that he knew my blood and called me his little red flame. Was that an endearment? Was the demon hitting on me?”
“Hey, if you made him your boyfriend, that would solve the need to kill him. You could become an evil sorceress and do that whole deal, but you’d definitely have to go shopping for something alluring.”
“Why do you think that evil sorceresses have to be slutty? Frumpy is a legit evil look.”
He put his hand on my forehead and cocked his head. “So, this is what talking to you is like. It’s as painful as washing glue out of my hair. It must be real. Anything else about the demon?”
I leaned away to get his hand off my face. “Someone shot him, and he ran away. I need to get a demon gun.”
“They’re even more expensive than an evil sorceress wardrobe, frumpy or otherwise. I wonder who shot him, but didn’t stop to see if you were all right.”
“Chasing him was the priority. I’m all for that.”
“You are going to go get me breakfast from the cafeteria, all my favorites, which you know because you’ve been drugging my food for years.”
I shrugged. That was true. “What are you going to do?”
“First, I’m going to shower, then I’m going to get dressed, and then I’m going to find your father.”
My heart leapt at the thought. Was he actually going to help me with the easy payment of meeting my powerful jerk dad and torturing me with my own cupcakes? Or maybe he was just messing with me, but I would get everything he liked for his breakfast and not put anything weird in any of it, not even salt in place of sugar. It would be difficult, but for my mom, I could do hard things.
When I got back with his breakfast, I expected him to be sitting at his desk in a neat suit with leather jacket, like he usually wore for classes, but he was wearing sweat pants and a hoodie, lounging on his bed with his computer like a normal person, Rynne’s brother, for instance.
I stared at him for a long time before I held up the tray. “Where do you want to eat?” He wouldn’t say bed, because he was a prissy little…
“Bed, otherwise I’d be somewhere else. What did you get yourself?”
I carefully eased the tray down on the messy blankets, easing it in between a large fold. “I’ll eat later.”
“Your bird has been rapping on my window with worms for you to eat. Is that what you’re saving your appetite for?”
I made a face at him and then took a piece of bacon off his plate and shoved it in my mouth while he was looking.
“I’m not eating the worms,” he said and went back to his work. He absently took a bite of whatever, eggs, hash browns, or French toast, but in a few minutes, he pushed it away and focused all his attention on his computer. I moved over so that I could see what he was doing, but I didn’t speak zeroes and ones, and that’s all it was.
“You can eat my leftovers or take it away and bring me something from the hall machine. I have quarters in the skull goblet.” He kept typing away, leaving me with a rumbling stomach and his leftovers. I should have been proud, but he’d hardly touched anything, and throwing away perfectly good food while it was still warm wasn’t ethical.
