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And something inside of me screamed that it was dangerous, that I needed to protect myself from him.
Not because he would hurt me.
No.
Because I liked the feel of him right there with me all the time.
And that, well, that just couldn’t be.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Minos
I was in the middle of taking an ice-cold shower to try to get a hold of my fucking hormones when I felt her call to me again.
It was all of three hours later.
I’d spent almost the entire fucking time trying to jerk-off enough to ease the ache of need to be inside of her again.
With very little luck, clearly. Hence the damn shower.
The thing was, I needed to try to keep myself under control.
Because she wasn’t wrong. I absolutely wanted to spend actual time with her outside of sex. I’d just been so used to that not being an option that my system was hardwired to, well, get hard whenever I thought of her. That was all she would ever accept from me in the past.
But if she was letting me have what I wanted, I needed to try not to fuck it up.
She had it in her head that things had to be strictly professional.
So I had to keep my hands to myself.
Amongst other things.
It wouldn’t be easy.
I had a feeling it would be worth it, though.
Even just getting to talk to—and argue with—Dale for a couple of minutes had managed to ease some of the ache inside at knowing she wasn’t mine, that she never would be.
This was all going to end, eventually. She would get the demon. Her job would be safe. And she would never allow me access to her like this again.
I figured if I could try to get my fill of her during this period, that maybe it would help hold me over through the famine that was sure to follow.
A part of me knew that was bullshit, of course. But I had to have a little hope. Some day, and it would likely be soon, the only time she would let her guard down for me was when she wanted to fuck.
I’d always come when she called.
But a part of me would always ache for more.
So getting a healthy dose of that “more” while I could was my plan.
If nothing else, at least it would be fond memories to look back on when I was stuck, alone, with a wall between us again.
I got myself dressed and headed out toward her location, smiling when I felt her frustration grow with each passing minute. Like she expected me to fucking appear out of thin air the second she called me.
Maybe I should have felt conflicted about the job she was asking me to do. I was evil, after all. I was more closely aligned with the demons than the demonslayers.
That said, I’d killed a demon for her before.
I’d killed other supernatural creatures for various reasons over my long life.
What was one more?
And it wasn’t like I could ever go back to hell anyway. So there would be no facing consequences for me. Not that Lucifer himself gave a rat’s ass that one of his demons took out another one. He just wanted his humans punished.
Dale called me toward a business district fifteen minutes away.
I took her flashing her lights at me as an invite to get in her car, where I found her with her seat all the way back, one leg cocked up against the door, and the other crossed under her.
“Alright. I’m off for the night. So talk to me about demons who eat babies,” she demanded, immediately locking the doors as soon as I closed mine.
“You talk about them like they’re common,” I said, shaking my head.
“We have books full of different demons with different types of prey.”
“Sure,” I agreed, shrugging. “But sometimes it isn’t that they have to eat something, but have preferences.”
“Why would they prefer babies?”
“Fuck if I know. I don’t have to eat anything to survive,” I reminded her.
Food and drink, that was all just for fun, really.
It didn’t matter if I hadn’t eaten in a decade, I would still keep ticking.
“You’re being so helpful right now,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“How about you tell me what you have so far on this guy, and I can see if I can come up with anything.”
“As far as we can tell, he’s only been… feeding around here for the past eighteen months. It flew under the radar for so long because missing babies, while big news, doesn’t always raise a flag for us. Until we got word of someone claiming they saw who took the baby, and that he was six-six and reddish-skinned. They were dismissed as crazy, of course.”
“Of course,” I agreed, nodding. It didn’t matter how many times someone had an encounter with someone of the supernatural persuasion, the general public always wrote it off as insanity.
