Page 56 of Demon Food

And of course, as expected, in he came, his footsteps light and cautious. They barely made a sound, just like his father’s. Not that he’d want me now, smelling of vomit, but if he did, I wasn’t sure I’d have the will to fight him off.

My cheeks heated as his tall shadow loomed over me. I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to see the judgment on his face. I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my neck. “Go away.”

He lowered to a squat in front of me, smooth and nimble.

I rolled my eyes behind my eyelids. “I said go away⁠—”

“I heard you, my love.” For interrupting me and not listening, his voice was tender. “I’m just incapable of following orders. I wish I could say I was working on it. I’m not.”

I finally looked up to find his expression unexpectedly compassionate. But that couldn’t be. They weren’t capable of compassion. They weren’t capable of anything that wasn’t selfish and cruel. For someone who’d survived by trusting his gut about them, this one was puzzling me.

“Here,” he said, presenting me a crystal glass filled with water. “It is not poisoned.”

I blinked at the water. Then up at him. “I didn’t think it was poisoned. Until now.”

He sucked his lower lip into his mouth. Then he chuckled, and, if I didn’t know better, I would almost say he looked a bit embarrassed. The faintest pink tinted his cheeks behind his freckles as he snickered, and bless me. It was cute.

“Okay,” he said, nodding. “I could see how, in an attempt to reassure you it wasn’t poisoned, I’ve created doubt. For that, I’m deeply regretful.”

My lips tried to twitch, but I refused to allow them.

“If it helps, I have no desire to poison you, darling. Not because you’re fun or mirthful or a breath of fresh air.” He chuckled. “Hardly. From what I can tell, you’re cynical and stiff-necked and you like to stab things without even asking their name first⁠—”

“Is this supposed to be helpful?”

“But you are smart.” He grinned. “And I wish to play you in cards.”

I’d never had one of them call me smart. They didn’t often notice things that weren’t physical. Or inside us.

It was like my gut was nowhere to be found, unable to report. Did I even have a gut anymore? Because it had no helpful notes for him outside of, What are you? Why are you so intriguing?

“Well, I’ll leave it right here,” he said, placing the glass on the floor as he popped up to a stand.

He glanced once at the toilet, and the chain flushed with an invisible hand at the same time he cleansed the whole thing in a big flash of fire that was gone the instant it erupted from the gods only knew where.

Of course, it made me jump, and I could use a little warning, but what he could do was wondrous. Too wondrous to despise. It’d be like despising a shooting star.

“Might I ask you a question?” He dug into his pocket, and—to the shock of no one—fished out a cigarette.

I reached for the water. The crystal was cold and heavy in my hands. It was the grounding thing I didn’t know I needed. “So long as I can ask you one.”

“Well, just looky right here at us.” He smiled that gorgeous demonic smile of his. “I told you we were getting closer, but I hadn’t realized the extent. We’ll be the best of friends by the time this is over.”

Oh, sure. We’d go on walks around the courtyard. We’d go fishing. Just a dying virgin prince and his human concubine friend.

“What is your question?” He gestured a hand toward me. “Foxes first.”

Calling attention to details of his virginity felt inherently risky, but then again, it wasn’t like I was shielded by my ignorance. “When did you awaken?”

His blinking slowed, but his smirk didn’t waver. “Would it matter? Does the timeline keep you more or less safe?”

I held his gaze in challenge. “You tell me, Prince. It is your timeline.”

“Hmph.” He lit his cigarette, sucking a long drag and taking his time to blow the smoke between us in a fragrant fog. “I awoke six months ago.”

The expression fell from my face as my eyes grew wide. Weeks. I’d expected him to say four or five weeks. “You haven’t eaten anything in six months?”

“It’s not that long for us. Our bodies are different from yours. The ones that feed every day are doing it out of desire, not necessity.”