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He was biting his lip, deep in thought, not noticing her standing there. She stared at the strange little man with huge shoulders, stumpy legs, and a big beer belly, wearing a kilt. Hilbert kind of reminded her of an alcoholic leprechaun. His thinning brown hair and lack of a discernable neck also reminded her of a Mr. Potato Head.
Not a very attractive man.
But what really fascinated her was how it didn’t seem to undermine his confidence. Yesterday, for example, he’d walked into that party like he owned the place, pushing people out of his way, strutting through the room, and giving zero fadoodles about what anyone thought.
And that kilt! Snort! What a ham. He also had no qualms about taking on men twice or three times his size. And when Zac kicked the crap out of him, Hilbert didn’t even care. He still left the party with his chin held high. Not a dent in that ego.
“Eh-hem.” Tula cleared her throat.
Hilbert turned his entire upper torso to look at her. No neck. “Top of the morning to you, milady. How are you feeling?”
Tula rubbed the back of her head. “I’ve had better hangovers.”
“I am making you my hangover special. Unfortunately, there isn’t much in the house, so I made it out of frozen blueberries, beer, and a bunch of Advil.”
She frowned. That sounded awful. “I’ll just stick with some water.”
“Don’t know what you’re missing.”
Tula rubbed her aching forehead. So bumpy. Yuck. “Hey, so, I know things are a little fuzzy for me right now, but how did we end up in Zac’s apartment?”
Hilbert’s oddly shaped lips puckered. “Errr…I, uh—oh! After the fight, Zac felt bad and apologized for his inappropriate behavior. He said we could crash at his place for the night.”
Zac apologized? That didn’t sound right. Hilbert had attacked him. “I don’t remember any of that. And don’t you live in the building?” She remembered Hilbert saying they were neighbors.
“Oh, um, mine is being fumigated for…tarantulas. A whole nest of them.”
Weird. “So where did Zac stay? Wait. Hold on. I don’t want to know.” Tula bet he’d stayed at a hotel with Gola and made sweet, sweet love to her.
In my body! I’m going to be sick. The thought of Zac touching her skin, kissing her, being intimate with her physical form, while she wasn’t inside it, sent an ache through her heart.
“You all right?” Hilbert asked. “You’re looking kind of gray. Er.”
“Yeah. I mean no. I think…I need to talk to him.” Tula simply couldn’t accept that Zac felt no connection with her last night despite this hideous body.
I mean, come on! Can’t he tell it belongs to a demon? No human was this nasty. The sewer breath, the drool and weird-shaped limbs, including gigantic feet? Heck, even people knew! She couldn’t walk down the street without being gasped at. Yesterday, two children literally screamed “monster!” and then began crying.
Zac hasn’t noticed because he doesn’t want to. He had blinders on for Tula’s body.
“I saw how you were looking at him last night, but he seems to have made his choice. Are you certain you want to talk to him?” Hilbert asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you know which hotel he might be at?”
“No.”
“Then I propose we go out and get you a breakfast to your liking. Perhaps we can catch a movie or go to the pier. Then we return here in the late afternoon. By then, Zac will have returned to his apartment.”
“I don’t know…” The clock was ticking, and her time was almost up. After that, she’d have to pay up to Maury, the demon king.
“Okay, then. If you prefer to waste this beautiful day, waiting around for Zac to show up, I will wait with you.”
“No. You don’t have to do that, Hilbert.”
“It wouldn’t feel right leaving you here all alone while I go out and enjoy a double stack of pancakes with syrup and butter.”
Mmmm… Her demon stomach growled. Now that sounded like hangover food. “Well, maybe we could go out to eat.”
Hilbert smiled, flashing a set of brown- and green-stained teeth. Yikes. Someone really needed to see the dentist. Also a manicurist. His nails were in rough shape.
Of course, she was in no position to throw stones.
“So, would you like to get freshened up before we go?” Hilbert asked.
What was the point? No amount of personal grooming was going to improve this demon shell. Even the stink didn’t wash off. And trust me, I tried. She and Gola had checked into a hotel before boarding a plane in Russia because Yuri, who had waited for her—bless his soul—had to obtain a fake passport for her. While they waited, Tula had taken three showers and couldn’t make a dent in the rotting-egg smell wafting from Gola’s body.
At least Hilbert doesn’t seem to mind. “I’m okay.”
Hilbert crinkled his nose.
