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“Terribly sorry, madam,” Crichton says in that ineffable British accent of his. “It’s ever so rude to smoke in the car.”
He has returned to his typical appearance now, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget what I just saw, a living horror piloting a motor vehicle along the charming roads amidst the quaint English countryside.
“What the fuck are you!?”
“I believe you have some idea of that already.” He is so very calm. He did this on purpose. He wanted to scare me. He has succeeded.
“You’re a demon.”
“Yes.”
“No, you’re fucking not.”
“I believe I may be.”
“What are you going to do to me?”
“Nothing at all, miss. I intend to take you to the bus stop, as you requested. After all, you are trapped in a world of delusion and must surely want to escape it immediately, returning to one where strangers break into your home in the dead of night and try to turn you into a blood sacrifice.”
His passive-aggressive remarks are cutting in the extreme.
“Fine,” I say. “Take me back to Direhall.”
“Direview, madam.”
“Whatever.”
I am shaken to my core. I have to trust the evidence of my own eyes, don’t I? Perhaps not. It might have simply been delusion, brought on by stress and suggestion. Yes. That’s right. I’m not in a world full of demons. I’m insane. That’s a much more comfortable conclusion, I think.
Cosmos is waiting for us as we approach the manor. This is the first time I have seen the place from a distance, and I have to say I am impressed and even awed by its raw Gothic charm. The place is like an ancient fortress, the sort of building that sparks imagination, much like Heidelberg Castle did, but in a more intense and darker way.
A flash of blue marks Cosmos’ path as he paces back and forth at the wrought iron gates, sword in hand. I have no idea what he intends to do with that sword, but I do not think it is for me. Even at a distance he is impressively sexy.
“Oh dear,” Crichton says calmly. “The master appears to be upset.”
“I think you’re in trouble,” I say.
“I imagine we both are, though I agree, the sword is more likely intended for me than your good self.”
Crichton brings the car to a halt at the gate. Cosmos is blocking the path, sword in hand. I’m not sure what he plans to do with it, given the car clearly doesn’t belong to him. He’s glaring at both of us. I think Crichton’s original statement was correct. We are both in trouble.
“Shall I run him over?”
“What!? No!” I am shocked and horrified. Crichton merely smiles gently. I don’t think he was ever serious, but who knows. He is a demon.
I groan internally as I realize that I have actually begun to accept it. It’s absolute madness and yet here I am mentally considering demons as a reality I now need to contend with. Crichton’s devilish plan has worked. He gained my trust, shocked me with a display, and now I am…
My thoughts are brutally interrupted as Cosmos puts his fist through the car window and drags Crichton out through the shattered glass. I find myself shrieking with panic at the notion that Crichton is about to be killed by my psychotic, self-assigned husband, but then I remember that he is a demon, and maybe he can’t be killed. What are the rules surrounding supernatural staff?
I find myself clawing my way out the same window in the attempt to stop the attack. It’s just a basic human reaction to protect a friend. I’m not exactly sure if Crichton qualifies as a friend. I don’t have many friends. Okay, I don’t have any friends. But he did offer to take me to the bus stop, and I think he would have done that if I’d wanted, demonic displays aside.
Cosmos has his sword held high in the air, poised to come down on the unfortunate Crichton. I scramble forward and over the butler, putting myself between Cosmos and the demon.
“Get out of the way, Elise.”
“No. You’re being stupid.”
Those words do not improve his temper at all. He cuts his eyes at me, his expression one of pure fury. He wants to kill Crichton. He probably wants to take him apart the same way he gutted the unfortunate assassin who tried to come for me in the hotel room. I won’t let that happen.
In the meantime, Bryn and Thor have both rushed out to save Crichton, but they needn’t have bothered. The demon servant is more than capable of taking care of himself.
“Step aside, madam,” Crichton says. He has risen to his feet and his voice is cool and calm. I do what Crichton says, and as I do, I see a flash of hurt pass over Cosmos’ face. He doesn’t like me taking orders from anybody else. But I don’t want to be between a demon ready to fight and a demon slayer ready to slay.
