Page 67 of Blood Lovers

My eyes wander away from his and I take a step back because we are so close, I have to do this in order to see his whole body. He’s a demon. Something right out of Genesis or Revelation. Something… fallen.

When I look back up he’s smiling. Changing, too. There is something behind those eyes of his. Someone else. Something beautiful.

“You’re making that up, Ryet. I’m not beautiful. But you certainly are.” The demon is a man now. A tall, broad-shouldered, square-jawed, ice-blue-eyed man with dark blond hair that is a little bit slicked back and long enough to touch his shoulders and curl up a little bit. He lifts up his hand and pushes some wayward hair out of my eyes. He’s staring at me. Expectantly. Like he’s waiting for something. “I need you to answer.”

He’s getting impatient.

No. Wrong word. He’s afraid of something.

“You think I’m going to say no. Don’t you?”

“Everyone says no. Because I do not lie to them when I ask this question. Why in the world would they ever say yes?”

I throw him a drunken grin and let out a huff of air. Then my hand is on his cheek. He’s very beautiful, actually. And that’s not a word I use for men. “Are you a man?”

“No. I’m a monster. See it, Ryet. I need you to see it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I sigh these words out. “What do you want?”

“You.”

“So?” I step back away from him, extend my arms wide. “Here I am.”

“You haven’t said yes yet.”

“Haven’t I?”

“You’re too drunk. Maybe I should come back tomorrow?”

I look away from him, my vision blurring as I gaze down the dark, empty alley. “I won’t be here tomorrow.”

He lets out a long breath. “And why’s that?”

I look him straight in the eyes. Well, I have to close one of mine to make the double vision go away. And then I look him straight in the eye. “Because I’m going to go home. And I’m going to get a rope.” He puts up a hand, but I keep going. “And I’m going to go into my garage, turn on the car, tie that rope to the rafters, and hang myself. And if, by some chance, I don’t die from the hanging, I will suffocate from the car fumes.”

He frowns at me. “You seem to have thought of everything.”

“I will die. And then I will go to Hell. And I don’t care. I will not live without them. I refuse.” Then I set my jaw, letting him know I’m done.

“But you have still not said yes.”

“Yes.”

“What are you saying yes to?”

“You. Take me. Take my soul. I don’t want to know the God who killed my family. I don’t want to worship Him, or bow to Him, or do His work. I want to kill Him.” I pause here. Because even my drunken self knows I’m crossing a line. And I decide I don’t care. “Will you help me kill Him?”

“Do you even know what I’m offering you?”

I nod. “I heard you. I might be drunk, but I heard you. You will take my soul and make it yours. And in exchange, I will live forever and the memory of them will be gone.”

“Forever is a long time. It’s not forever, Ryet. There are many conditions. You will be mine. You will work for me and do my bidding.”

“Just make the memories go away or I will go home and end it myself.”

He sighs. Like he’s tired. “All right. That’s all I needed. Do you want to know what happens next?”

“No.”