Page 24 of Whispers From The Dark

“I got full custody, and the dickbag I married went to prison. He died there shortly after,” Melody says as if she’s been asked this a thousand times before. “Would you like to see a picture? Ashley graduates this spring.”

“Would you? Or is her word sufficient?” he asks.

I suppose it’s good enough. She’s alive, at least. That makes his record one for two now. “It’s fine,” I say, merely as a formality. He can hear every thought that rattles around in our shared mind.

“That’s quite alright, dear. Where are the forms she needs to fill out? And where is the new line cook? Isn’t he supposed to be here already?”

“He’s back there finishing up the ServSafe course. He was early,” she says, grinning. I know as well as anybody that with line cooks, that’s a rarity. “Forms are in the same place they were the last dozen times you asked.”

Is she sassing a demon? What the fuck is happening?

“I’ve told you already. Pleasure is my focus. Although I prefer the sexual variety, any crumb is sustaining. I see Melody nearly every day. She likes her job and her regulars. She enjoys having a sense of camaraderie with me. She’s happy. Even that small amount of pleasure is worth it.”

I try to suppress my thoughts as much as I can. The more I learn, the less I understand. How is what he does a bad thing? He seems to have honor and follow through. I don’t understand it.

A song lyric pops into my head, Eva Noblezada singing of flowers and rot, like a warning. What will I regret? What will I miss by taking this route alongside a demon?

Asmodeus leads us down the darkened hallway. The wood paneling on the walls is dated. It’s a stark contrast to the industrial rave type vibe of the attached club. Perhaps he should invest in updating the whole place. He could convert The Crossroads into private suites to cater to a more discrete vampire clientele. There’s an old condom machine in the staff bathroom, which is honestly quite funny, pleasure demon considered. Finally, we reach a back office, dingy and small, and I recognize the man sitting at the computer.

“Sam?” I ask, surprised, before Az returns control of my body.

My high school boyfriend is focused on the computer, clicking answers to those dumb training questions with ease, but it gives me a moment to take him in. He looks mostly the same, just..harsher. His jaw is sharper. He’s clean-shaven, and I wonder if he gave up on the beard he tried so hard—and failed—to achieve. His light brown hair is longer than I remember, and it hangs in his eyes. When he finally realizes I’m standing there, he looks up, pale blue eyes widening in surprise.

“Pet?” It’s as if he’s seen a ghost. Which, considering he moved a few states away before high school even ended, is a valid reaction.

“Hey, Sam,” I say, smiling. And before I can react, I’m swept into a hug that’s both warm and overbearing. He squeezes me as he picks me up, spinning us in a circle. He smells the same, and I try to hide the deep breath I take when he loosens his grip. He puts me down, taking a step back, and doesn’t hide his appreciative perusal of my body.

“I told you these jeans were perfect. And the shirt shows off your tits just right,” Asmodeus pipes in, though he sounds a bit sullen. Is he jealous?

“You’ve grown up,” Sam says, and I laugh because his eyes have squarely landed on my aforementioned tits.

“You somehow got taller.” I lean back to exaggerate our height difference. “When did you move back?”

“Couple years ago,” he replies, looking sheepish. “Met a girl when I was visiting Ty and Malachi—do you remember them?” I nod, and then he clears his throat and looks away. “I knocked her up. My little girl lives here with her mom.”

I’m not sure I want to unpack his feelings about this, nor do I really know how to respond. Thankfully, he changes the subject.

“How’s Jack? He’s gotta be what, twelve by now?”

“He’s eleven! He’s great,” I say, trailing off. God, I don’t know how I managed to date anyone when Jack was a toddler. I really liked Sam, and I was heartbroken when my bitch mother ran him off. He broke up with me abruptly and then moved away quickly after. I never got closure, but it was some high school relationship. It’s not like it really mattered.

I must be frowning because Sam tilts his head at me, the motion so familiar it should be bottled up and put in a time capsule. He clears his throat. “Hey, I know it’s been forever, but the way things⁠—”

“Don’t!” I absolutely do not want the details of an immature teenage love affair to embarrass me further. “It’s okay. My mom was—is—a fucking nightmare. I get it.”

Sam’s sky blue eyes are so familiar, I can’t help but slip into long forgotten memories. A lazy weekday morning when Mom was at work and we skipped school. Jack was in state-subsidized daycare, and we had the place to ourselves. Despite our plans for the morning, looking at it through the lens of time makes it seem so innocent.

I always wondered if it was so good because he was the first or if my subsequent partners just sucked.

Asmodeus grunts inside my mind, and I remember he’s there.

“So, you’re the new line cook?” Sam nods, squinting a bit in confusion about how I know. “Well, you’re looking at the newest bartender over at Sanguivita,” I say.

“Ah, great!” How can one smile be so large? “Looks like I’ll get to see more of you then.”

“Yep. I, uh, need to fill out a form or something and…” I trail off before continuing internally. “Az, help? The form?”

The demon within me takes over with ease, digging into a filing cabinet that has seen far better days, and then gives control of my limbs back to me when he finds the form.