Page 33 of How Not to Date a Demon

Her heart skipped a beat as Galen stretched his neck out, and in the dull light from the streetlamp, his horns were visible.

Maeve was committing him to memory, from head to toe. Because she knew she wasn’t crazy. He was right the—

In a puff of smoke, he was gone. The alley was empty.

Maeve stood, her hands moving up the wall as she steadied herself. Shaky steps took her into the alley, and wide eyes assessed the area. Was it a prank? There was no camera, no smoke machine, no tarp or special effects.

It was just brick and concrete and some trash.

Maeve’s heart pounded in her chest. She felt it in her throat and in her head, until all she could hear was her blood rushing.

Sucking in a desperate breath, Maeve uncurled her hands from fists, unwound her fingers from her palms, leaving behind half-moons. The sting reminded her that yes, if it wasn’t blatantly obvious, this was real.

Maeve ran.

She didn’t care how crazy it made her look, didn’t care how many people saw her or how many times she tripped over the sidewalk as she raced back home.

The familiarity of her apartment complex made her chest ache, or maybe that was just her lungs burning for air.

She raced up the steps and yanked her key out before she got to the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she half expected Galen to be following behind her, but the hallway was empty, silent except for the breath rushing past her lips.

Her hand was shaking, and the key wouldn’t go in the fucking lock, and she felt like someone was just right behind her and—the knob turned as the key did its job, and she pushed in the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Skittering claws sounded throughout the apartment, and she yelped as the puppies came racing toward her. She must have startled them awake when she left.

“Oh my god,” she breathed, the image of wings bursting from Galen’s shirt was burned into her mind. So that made him what? Some kind of… “Demon? A devil? What else has wings?” she asked aloud.

The puppies yelped and skidded to a stop near her at the same time the revelation did, and she jumped away from them.

“Don’t touch me!” she yelled, sprinting for the kitchen island.

A demon. Three dogs. Three black dogs.

She splayed out on top of the counter in an enviable display of grace before getting to her knees on the hard marble and staring toward the doorway.

A dozen paws skittered and three pink tongues flopped from their mouths as they raced after her. Just like they did when it was play time. But her heart was beating against her chest, and playfulness was the last emotion from her mind.

“You’re not even real puppies,” she cried out as they circled the kitchen table.

They were probably some kind of demon dog! Why else would he have three puppies?

There was one in Greek mythology she’d learned about in high school, but god, that was so long ago, and she couldn’t remember it right then. Not when their little teeth and big brown eyes—

Red eyes scored her vision.

“You fuckers!” she shouted. “I’m not crazy! You do have glowing eyes!” She pointed down at the pups who were jumping at the kitchen island, as if they had any idea what she was saying.

Maeve had to admit she felt a little crazy. But she’d been right all along!

Galen was… was something!

And these puppies… they’d been sleeping by the door every single night, just like always. And every night around three AM, she was awoken to the silence of the room and the shadows cast by their glowing ruby eyes. Except for tonight. Galen had woken her instead.

Her mind raced, and the sweat from her panicked sprint was cooling on her forehead.

What did she do?

She needed to get out of here. Before Galen came back.