Demon Walking

by Eve Langlais

  “That’s okay. Because I’ve seen into your heart. You’re a good person, Babette Silvergrace, and soon, you’re going to find that special someone you’ve been looking for.”

  “You had a vision.”

  “No, I just know you will because you’re so awesome.”

  Babette rolled her eyes, but she didn’t sound angry when she said, “I think I’m getting a cavity from all this sweetness.”

  “I’m feeling nauseous myself,” Luc announced. “If you feel the need to get emotional, kindly do it off the premises.”

  “Don’t get your demonic thong in a twist,” Babette drawled. “I’m leaving, but not because you want me to, dude. I gotta go report to the big boss.”

  “The king?” Elspeth asked to clarify.

  “Duh.”

  “Are you going to announce my presence?” Luc’s gaze turned dark and impenetrable.

  “Yes. I can’t keep a supposed demon a secret, but contrary to what you think, we’re not out to get you. That was Voadicia’s gig, not ours. Not to mention, now that I’ve met you, I can vouch for the fact you’re not ready to take over the local gym, let alone the world. Ready, Elsie?” Babette looked at her expectantly.

  “I’m not leaving yet.”

  “But your meds—”

  “Can wait. I need to stay here.”

  Babette sighed. “Your mother won’t like it.”

  “Mama will have to understand I’m old enough to make my own decisions. No more arguing. I’m staying, and you’re going. We both know you can’t make me leave. And you didn’t have a problem with Luc and me being together before. While I was unconscious.”

  “That was before he was suspected of being a kidnapper.”

  “I haven’t kidnapped anyone,” he reiterated.

  “Says you.”

  “Says me.” Elspeth lifted her chin. “I am perfectly safe with Luc.”

  Babette’s face contorted. “According to you. If I leave you alone with him and he turns out to be a murderer, your mother will crucify me.”

  Elspeth grabbed her bestie by the arm and began marching Babette to the door. She ducked close enough to whisper, “If you don’t leave, I’ll fulfill the vision where I kill you for being a cock-blocker.”

  “What? You’re getting rid of me to have sex with him?” The woman tried to dig in her heels, but Elspeth just picked her up and kept walking.

  “What of it? He’s hot. Eligible.” I think. She’d never seen a ring or a missus. “He’s not scared of me. Did I mention hot?”

  “Are you really going to allow yourself to think with your va-jay-jay at a time like this?”

  “Yes. When else will I get this chance? Do you think I meet guys like Luc every day? Not all of us are petite and gorgeous like you.”

  Babette tossed her head. “Good point. It is easy for me to get laid.”

  “Exactly. Which is why you’re going back to report. Without mentioning my being here with Luc.”

  “Use protection.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  Babette grimaced as she paused before the front door. “This is probably a bad idea.”

  “Think of it as a good idea. The very best.”

  “If this goes to shit, I’m blaming you.”

  “It won’t go to shit.” I hope. Once Babette had left, Elspeth shut the door, locked it, and leaned against the wood.

  It was just she and Luc now. At last. She didn’t quite run back to his office, but her walk occurred at a rapid pace.

  She entered to find him staring out the window, his body rigid. She could practically see the tension oozing off him.

  “You’re angry,” she stated.

  “I’m always angry.”

  “Yes, but right now, you’re angrier than usual.” He trembled. A big, sexy man, so full of rage and hurt. She could see it. Feel it. She wanted to soothe it away. To kiss it better. Yet, she held back.

  Touching him also had the effect of making her forget herself. Losing control…not always a good idea.

  He whirled from the window, his eyes blazing blue, the skin on his forehead dimpling. “Why do you care how I feel? And don’t feed me a line about caring about me. You don’t know me.”

  “I want to.”

  Someone, though, wanted to wallow. He turned back to the window. “Go away.”

  “After the trouble you went through trying to find me?”

  “Who says I was looking?”

  “You did. Not to mention, that does.” She pointed at the map and then the bowl of blood with its lone strand of hair. Her hair she’d wager. “You were looking for me.”

  “I was looking for a dragon to kill.”

  “Really?” She cocked her head, unafraid. He lied. But why? “I know you don’t want to kill me.”

  “On the contrary, I do. Intently.”

  “Okay.” She tilted her head back and bared her neck. “Let’s do this again. Kill me.”

  “Stop toying with me.”

  “I’m not the one saying one thing and doing another.”

  “Killing is messy, and I like this shirt.”

  “It’s plaid.”

  “And?”

  “It won’t show the blood after you wash it.” She knew from experience.

  “Would you stop trying to convince me to kill you? I don’t want to.” He crossed his arms and jutted his lower lip mulishly.

  She wanted to grab hold of it with her teeth and suck for a while.

  “You don’t want to throttle me because you like me.”

  “Not in the least. I’ll kill you when I’m ready. Which isn’t now. You might as well leave. It won’t be tonight.”

  She took a step closer. “Leave a friend in need? You should know by now, I can’t do that.”

  “We are not friends.”

  “Of course, we are, silly. Especially now that we’ve shared our secrets and I’ve seen your horns. They’re peeking again.”

  His hand partially rose then fell. “It is because of this you should leave before I come to my senses and kill you.”

  “Kill me? That seems a little extreme, don’t you think? Yes, I know you say you want to rule the world, and I did see your impressive pecs—”

  “Pecs?”

  “—but it’s not as if I took a picture of your hot body and disseminated it over the internet as a meme titled Demon Hottie.”

  “Why would you want an image of my body?”

  “To show off, of course. You are sexy.”

  “I am?”

  “And hung.” He couldn’t hide his interest, not in those pants.

  Luc’s gaze narrowed. “By hung, you mean?”

  She glanced down, and he followed her gaze to his covered groin with a crease between his brows.

  “Am I not a standard size?”

  “Don’t you know? Surely, you and the other boys had penis competitions?”

  He grimaced. “I don’t have much experience with people.”

  Poor thing. While she didn’t understand being socially awkward, she could empathize with not having a large circle of friends.

  “You have me now.” She hugged him. Tried to give him a super-duper hug, the kind that would lift him off the ground and make him feel special, except he was too heavy. She settled for squeezing him—and groping his fine ass.

  He was completely choked with emotion when he said, “What are you doing?”

  “Hugging the sadness out of you.”

  “I am not sad.”

  “Depressed.”

  “Not depressed either. But if you are looking for a term to describe me, homicidal comes to mind.”

  “Oooh, who do we need to kill?”

  “We?”

  “Of course, we. I told you, we are friends, and friends don’t let friends murder alone. You tell me when and where, and I’ll bring the shovel.”

  “You do realize I haven’t given up on my plan to kill all of dragonkind for eradicating my race?”

  “I know, and I’d say you
have a good reason. I’d hate me, too.”

  He sighed. “I don’t hate you. However, I promised my mother I’d seek revenge.”

  “You know, if you want that to sound really cool, you should say it more like this.” She struck a proper pose and recited from her favorite movie. “Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”

  “But you didn’t kill my father. And I thought your name was Elspeth.”

  “It is. I’m just saying…you know what, forget explaining. We need to watch it.”

  She grabbed him by the hand and dragged him downstairs to where she’d seen a television when exploring.

  They were halfway through the movie The Princess Bride—which she’d found on some streaming channel—with her snuggling against him, her hand on this thigh, when he turned to ask, “Do you have a mate?”

  Given it came out of the blue, it could only mean one thing. “Can’t stop thinking about me either? I know the feeling.” He consumed her thoughts.

  “Is it a spell?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then what?”

  “Attraction. You’re the PB for my jelly.”

  He frowned.

  “Peanut butter?”

  He still looked confused.

  “I’ll show you what a PB&J is later. Right now, I think this is better suited.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him.

  Elspeth kissed him—and kissed him alone because he froze.

  Solid.

  She wasn’t even sure he breathed.

  A tug at his lower lip wrought a shudder in him. A lick of the seam definitely made him shiver.

  “Are you going to kiss me back?” she asked, fingers wrapped in his hair.

  “We shouldn’t.”

  “Tell me to walk away, then.” She snuggled closer, her ass in his lap, the hard pressure of his erection proof that he didn’t want to stop.

  “You are my temptation. My undoing.”

  Sexiest thing a man had ever said. Cupping his cheeks, she kissed him again, pouring some of her passion into it. Not too much. She didn’t want to frighten him. Watch your strength.

  Turning in his lap, she straddled him, her thighs on either side of his, more fully pressing his erection against her.

  She rocked against it, and he stiffened again, only for a moment before his hands gripped her around the waist. His lips parted finally with a hot exclamation.

  If before she was in control, that now changed. As if he’d unleashed it, his passion rolled out in a hot and sultry wave. She felt the fever of his skin. The possessive dig of his fingers into her flesh. The wet play of his tongue against hers.

  She continued to rock against him. Building that pressure and—

  “Ahem.” Alfred cleared his throat as he walked in. He stood staring at a spot on the wall while Elspeth gaped at him, her lips—both sets—full and aching. “Would the master and his guest like some refreshments?”

  Given someone elected to chaperone, she did her best to smile and act normal. “Hey, Alfie. Some drinks would be great.”

  “Privacy would have been better.” Luc displayed an amazing ability to spin his head almost 180 degrees.

  “If the master wishes privacy, then perhaps he should partake of private matters behind closed doors.”

  The starch riposte had Luc grumbling, “Perhaps smart-mouthed humans should keep their opinions to themselves lest I decide to eat them.” He scowled and crossed his arms.

  Adorable really, especially as she grasped that he was miffed Alfred had interrupted what promised to be an excitingly intimate moment between them.

  “Got any popcorn, Alfred?”

  “Indeed, I do. I’ll fetch some.”

  “What is popcorn?” Luc asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  The moment was awkward. Elsie wanted to reach out to Luc, but he’d slid out from under her and moved to the opposite end of the couch.

  He still sat there when Alfred returned with their snack.

  When Luc eyed the popcorn with suspicion, Elspeth threw a handful at him. “It’s good. Try it.”

  “You try it.” He tossed a puffed piece back, and Elspeth dove to catch it. She hit the floor, tucked and rolled, popped up and opened her mouth, tongue extended.

  “You caught it!” Luc exclaimed. “My turn.”

  Which was how Babette found Elspeth dodging around the room, mouth open, laughing as she tried to catch popcorn and giggling when it bounced off her nose.

  Even more astonishing, how handsome Luc was when he finally cracked a smile. Panty-wetting, knee-weakening gorgeous.

  Now that Elspeth had cracked the smiling barrier, next, she needed him to kiss her. Kiss her with all the passion she knew he kept bottled inside. She hoped it happened soon so she could die happy.

  Because the end was creeping closer. She’d seen it in a vision. A single revelation. Given she was off the drugs, it usually meant the options were narrowing. Soon, there would be only one outcome.

  Now if only she could see ahead to find out if she survived.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The interruption by Babette proved annoying and fortuitous.

  Luc couldn’t recall a more carefree moment. A happy moment. And it was because of Elspeth. A dragon.

  More than ever, he found himself torn. The need for revenge warred with his enjoyment of being in her presence. His urge to touch her. His desire to kiss her…and more.

  He couldn’t forget the embrace they’d shared. A kiss that had left him tingling and craving.

  Yet, once again, before he could forget his past, someone just had to interrupt.

  “Elsie, stop playing with the demon and come with me.”

  “What for?” she asked, throwing a piece of popcorn overhead and then sinuously moving her body to catch it.

  “Our king needs us for something.”

  “A mission?” Elspeth’s gaze brightened, and she straightened. “Sweet. We’ll be ready to leave—”

  Babette shook her head. “He can’t come. Dragon business.”

  The stark reminder had him stiffening. “As if I want to be involved. Go. I have other things to do.” Like planning the demise of the world. Perhaps placing an advertisement for some soldiers. Wanted: Mercenaries for my legion to take over the world.

  Arms crossed, he put on his most forbidding mien, which Elspeth ignored as she approached him and placed a hand on his tense forearm. “Sorry, I guess I have to go. I’ll be back later, though.”

  He detected no lie in her words, and yet a chill settled over him. “You needn’t bother. I’ll be otherwise occupied.”

  “Don’t have too much fun without me,” she whispered before brushing a light kiss on his mouth.

  Then she was gone, leaving him frozen once again. The allure of her scent and touch acting as a paralyzing spell.

  He shook his head as Alfred entered.

  “I see the ladies departed.”

  “Dragon business.”

  “Sounds serious. Especially given their earlier accusation that you might be involved in the abduction of women.”

  “You think their business is related to that?”

  “It seems likely.”

  Also dangerous. Someone was abducting females. Elspeth was female.

  He scowled. “They didn’t want me to join them.”

  “The dragons are a secretive lot,” Alfred stated. “I’ve been reading up on them since our meeting; however, I haven’t found much. They keep their secrets closely guarded.”

  If only Luc had the wings of his ancestors. He could have followed. Thus far, he’d only managed a faint impression of horns.

  But he did have magic.

  Elspeth had interrupted his earlier attempt to scry for her presence, which meant he had all the tools he needed to find her.

  He also had something better than a dead strand of hair. He snared the bowl with popcorn seeds, a few of them wet with saliva when she’d spat them out.
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  Rushing them to his library, he tipped the seeds into a clean bowl. The knife he’d taken from the kitchen sliced his skin easily, and his blood emerged, a dark blue liquid at first, turning to a deep burgundy the longer it was exposed to the air.

  The bowl filled, the liquid covering the seeds. While it was still warm, he cupped the container and lifted it.

  He closed his eyes. Pictured Elspeth. With her golden curls and bright smile. Remembered her sweet scent. Then whispered the words of magic. He knew them. He’d memorized them when still young. What else was there to do in the cells but learn and listen? The older ones did their best to pass on the knowledge so it wouldn’t die if they did. He really should take the time to write the history of his people.

  He realized he held the bowl of blood aloft. Distracted after doing the spell, he thought he’d failed again. Perhaps he’d missed a vowel. Or his magic didn’t work the same on this plane. He’d tugged a bit of the magical current. Not too much. The torrent coursed wildly.

  And the bowl remained inert.

  “Perhaps she’ll come back,” Alfred stated. “With more dragons.”

  “She won’t betray me.”

  “If the master insists.”

  The smirk in Alfred’s tone ignited the heat of his doubt.

  The less than subtle slam of the door exploded it. Insolent fool.

  Luc’s lip peeled back. He held aloft the bowl once more and chanted again, a stream of consonants guttural yet soft.

  He tugged at the stream of magic he could feel nearby. Dipped his esoteric hand into it and drew a handful. He pulled it toward him, but a chunk of the stream followed.

  It snapped and crackled coldly, zipping down to him, but he focused on the blood in the bowl.

  A reddish glow to draw the bluish one, and threading the air around it, the green words of his breath. He kept chanting as the blue hit the red, and then the green pounced and bound it within the container.

  The bowl in his grip warmed and shivered. Steam rose from the surface, and something twisted the three strands of force together.

  Luc set the bowl down on the map he’d spread earlier on the table. A map with no magical properties, which was why the blood that rolled over the edge of the container ignored it. It streaked across the tabletop, seeking an edge.

  It flowed down, a liquid that did not disperse. That did not soak into the rug on the floor. It oozed, its amorphous shape undulating as it made its way across the room.