Heart of a Demon: A New Adult Paranormal Romance

by Lacy Andersen

  His eyelids stopped fluttering and he fell back into a deep sleep. Looking around at the empty forest, I was unsure what to do. If I left him here, he'd be easy prey for another pack of demons. They would tear him to shreds before he could even open his eyes. Maybe that's what he deserved. I couldn't go around caring about a demon. It was ridiculous.

  But as I looked at Green Eyes' face, I knew that I couldn't leave him there, alone and exposed. As much as every fiber of my being screamed against it, there was something about him that made me unable to walk away without ensuring his safety. It might kill me, but I had to save him.

  Chapter Four

  I placed my hand on his chest and felt the slight rise and fall of his breathing. He was still alive. But if I didn’t get him out of here soon, that might change.

  From the looks of Green Eyes, he had to be near two hundred pounds. There was no way I’d be able to carry him out of here by myself. About a quarter mile west of here was an old shelter, probably left over by the hunters who used to move through here. I'd found it three years ago and claimed it as my own, patching up the roof and keeping the inside clean.

  If I could get him there, we’d be safe. It was close enough to the goddess’ borders that demons never strayed that way, and far enough into the southern woods that no one from my town would find him. Once I got him there, I could assess his wounds and decide what to do.

  “Okay, handsome, you’re going to have to help me,” I said in his ear.

  His eyelids fluttered again, but remained closed.

  “I can’t do this on my own.”

  Pulling him up into a sitting position, I wrapped his muscular arm over my shoulders. A slight groan escaped his lips, but he remained asleep. If we were going to make it, he had to wake up.

  “Come on, help me out,” I said, taking his chiseled chin in my hand and giving his head a little shake. Every nerve fiber screamed at me to run, but I ignored it and gritted my teeth against the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

  The shaking of his head made his eyes open. He watched me through cracked lids, the blurry sign of sleep still heavy on his eyes.

  “If you want to live, you have to walk with me,” I told him.

  He swallowed hard, closing his eyes again. I thought I’d lost him, but a moment later, he nodded and began to push himself off the ground. With half his weight on my shoulders, I pulled him up and walked him forward.

  We only made it a few steps before he stumbled and fell, pulling me down with him. As we kneeled over the forest floor, I noticed for the first time that he smelled slightly like vanilla and fresh soap. Along with that was the scent of salty sweat and blood. The wound on his shoulder was beginning to clot and the bleeding had slowed. If only we could make it to the shack, he might have a chance.

  “Come on, handsome. I need you to move it,” I told him, pulling him up by the waist.

  He grunted, clasping his bloody hand over mine. Surprised, I nearly dropped him on the forest floor, but held it together enough to keep him upright. He grunted a second time, his lips moving as if he wanted to tell me something.

  "I'm trying to save you," I said through clenched teeth. "Don't fight me. And please don't kill me after this is all done."

  He shook his head back and forth. The movement must've been too much for him because his face turned an even scarier shade of white. Taking a deep breath, he tried again.

  "My name's Gabe." His voice was raspy and deep. With another rattling breath, he gave me a little sideways smile. It didn't hide the pain etched on his face.

  I sighed, my insides turning. I knew I shouldn't get chummy with a demon, but I'd already broken all the rules in the book. Telling him my name would probably be the least of my offenses.

  "My name's Lizzy. Now come on, we need to get out of here."

  We struggled over the rough terrain of the forest for several hundred feet before the shack came into view. There were moments when I thought Gabe was going to pass out or die before we even got there. His skin kept changing from a sickly green to a ghostly white color. Once, his eyes even rolled up in his face and all his weight fell on my shoulders, forcing us to collapse onto the needle covered ground. But every time, he got back up and we kept going. This demon wanted to live.

  Once we got into the shack, I led him to the old bed which took up a third of the room. It was a sturdy piece of furniture with a rough wooden headboard and a flimsy mattress. I'd laid an old quilt across the mattress, stolen from Granny's storage room of items that were no longer useful, but she didn't want to throw away. She'd never miss it.

  "Sit here and let me look at those wounds," I told him, helping him sit on the edge of the bed. I wasn't sure what I would do once I looked at them. I certainly wasn't a nurse, but maybe I'd have an idea once I saw them up close.

  "You don't need to do that," he mumbled, his eyelids heavy. "I can take care of myself."

  "Yeah, like you took care of your dead friend? I don't think so."

  His green eyes flashed up at me, full of pain. I immediately regretted mentioning his friend. It was an insensitive thing to do.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "You couldn't have saved him. I saw the whole thing. You were lucky to survive."

  That didn't seem to convince him, so I moved to look at his shoulder. The bleeding was very slow now. I wasn't sure if that was because it was clotting or if he'd lost too much blood. The cut ran deep but wasn't very wide. It might close up on its own.

  "Can you move your arm?" I asked. If he couldn't move it, that would be a sign of torn tendons and way beyond my level of first aid expertise.

  If anything, his face had become even paler during these few seconds in the shack. The adrenaline from the fight was wearing off. He looked about ready to collapse.

  "I'll try," he said in a weak voice. Raising his arm, he gasped in pain. His eyes rolled up into his head and he fell backwards, sprawling across the mattress.

  He looked so harmless, passed out on the bed. Not like the warrior demon that I'd witnessed in the woods. From this vantage point, I could see the smile lines around his mouth and his eyes. There was a softness to his lips that made me forget about the sword he'd wielded. Thick brown eyelashes rimmed his eyes, the kind a million girls would kill for. It was easy to forget he was dangerous.

  "Okay, I guess we'll be doing this the hard way," I mumbled to myself.

  If Gabe was going to be here for a while, I'd better take precautions to protect myself. There was a pile of rope in the corner of the shack which I'd used to lift supplies to the roof when I had to patch a hole. It was strong stuff - strong enough to keep a warrior demon tied down and harmless. I grabbed it and approached the bed, careful not to make too much noise.

  Gabe still lay in the same position, his lips slightly parted as he breathed heavily in and out. I crawled on the bed next to him, moving slowly. He didn't stir as I wrapped the rope around his first wrist, tying it like Granny had taught me a few summers ago when I helped her haul some dead branches from the backyard and into an open trailer. She'd showed me how to tie the rope tight so the branches wouldn't fly out.

  I left Gabe just enough slack to move around a little bit, but not enough to reach the other wrist, and went to tie the second arm. When I tried to get off the bed, my foot slipped and I almost fell on top of him, catching myself at the last instant with a hand on the bed. In all the commotion, his eyelids fluttered open and he gazed at me through glossy eyes.

  "It's okay, go back to sleep," I said. If he realized I was tying him down, it might not end so well for me. I gave him the calmest smile I could muster. "I'm just going to check your wounds."

  His eyes tightened with suspicion, the tension in his jaw back. I thought about the sliver knife still in my back pocket. If he made a move, I'd grab it and get out of here. Hopefully before he could use his super speed to snap my neck.

  A full ten seconds passed before his eyelids drooped again and he went back to sleep, the stiffness in his face melting away. I b
reathed a sigh of relief and then rushed to get his other wrist tied up. The sooner I had him where I wanted him, the better. He couldn't hurt me if he was attached to the headboard. I'd let him go as soon as I was certain neither of us would die when I did.

  With his hands safety tied, the only thing left to do was look over the rest of his injuries. The black eyed demons had clawed at him, tearing his t-shirt and leaving bloody trails on his skin. The t-shirt was practically ruined anyway, so I took the silver dagger from my pocket and tore it off him, exposing his sculpted chest and flat stomach.

  Six claw marks marred his torso. I ran my fingers over them, the flesh hot around the wounds. Even with the blood and scars, I couldn't help myself from enjoying the sight of his strong arms and the rippling muscles of his abdomen. I wanted to touch them, to see if they were as strong as they looked, but I pulled my hand back.

  Look, don’t touch, I told myself with a mental slap on the hand.

  My eyes trailed down to his lower abdomen. His chest was bare but for a thin trail of dark hair which started at his belly button and disappeared under the waist of his jeans. I shook my head and forced myself to look at something else. A black tattoo on his chest captured my attention. It was simple, but made from weird symbols that I didn't recognize. I wouldn't be surprised if it was the mark of his demon clan.

  The claw marks didn't look too bad, but they all needed to be cleaned. I left Gabe to rummage through a small wooden cupboard built into the wall of the shack. When I first cleaned it out, I'd found a box of old shotgun shells and a couple of tuna tins tucked away in there. Now, it held some snacks, a pile of towels, and a couple bottles of alcohol swiped from Granny's liquor cabinet.

  I wasn't a big drinker, but the idea of having a hidden stash of liquor out in the woods had once sounded exciting to me, especially when I was nineteen and too young to drink. Now, it just sounded stupid. But, I was thankful for my brief rebel period as I pulled out a cheap bottle of vodka and a couple of the towels. If I cleaned the wounds with the alcohol, hopefully he'd avoid infection. It was the least I could do to help him.

  Opening the bottle, I grabbed a seat next to Gabe. He was sleeping so peacefully, I hated to disturb him. But I'd been in the forest too long already. I needed to get this over with and head back to town before Granny began to suspect anything.

  "Okay, handsome. This might sting. Don't hate me."

  I poured the vodka on the smallest claw mark first, hoping to avoid causing too much pain. His eyelids twitched, but he didn't wake. I worked my way up his torso, mopping at the bloody marks with the towel and cleaning each of them the best I could. By the time I made it to his shoulder wound, most of the blood was cleaned up and he looked suddenly less intimidating.

  "Last one, I promise." I wasn't sure why I was talking to the demon, but I guess it made me feel more comfortable acting like he was just another human.

  Pouring the vodka onto his shoulder, I expected the same results from the previous wounds I'd cleaned. But this time, he hissed and flailed, knocking the bottle out of my hand and sending it flying beneath the bed. Before I could grab the knife from my pocket, he snatched my wrist and twisted it painfully.

  "Don't..." I cried.

  My arm came close to snapping under the inhuman strength of his hand. He opened his eyes and fixed me with a glare. All I could think about was the knife in my pocket, and how close I was to reaching it.

  "Please let me go," I told him while I slowly reached behind me with my left arm to grab the knife. "I just wanted to help."

  To my surprise, he blinked at me and dropped my arm before I could wrap my fingers around the hilt of the dagger. We stared at each other in that moment. I wasn't sure what he was thinking. Confusion and surprise flashed across his face, mixed in with the pain still etched on his forehead. His eyes studied my face, moving from my eyes to the rest of my face and then lingering on my mouth. I turned away when his attention started to make me nervous.

  "I'm going to leave you here tonight," I said, staring at the dirt floor of the shack. "You should be safe. I'll be back tomorrow."

  He didn't answer, so I looked up. Those striking green eyes were already closed and his breathing heavy with sleep. I backed away slowly, my hand never leaving the dagger in my pocket. Slipping out the door, I locked it shut and then made a run for town.

  My head screamed at me the whole way. What I was doing was beyond insane. It was dangerous, stupid, and not only would it get me killed, but Granny would never let me go to school if she found out. The only smart thing to do was never go back.

  But something about him had struck me to my very core. I couldn't just leave him, knowing that he might die in that shack alone. I knew, without a doubt, that I would see this through to the end. Even if I had to risk my own life.

  Chapter Five

  My shift at the Pump N' Go the next day dragged on like Ruth Baker's Sunday sermons. All I could do was bounce from foot to foot as Granny made me man the cash register, counting out change to the hikers who stopped to refuel on their way to hike the nearby Spearfish Canyon. Even Granny noticed my behavior, pausing as she went out to inspect the air pump.

  "Stand still, girl," Granny growled. She had a red bandana tied up in her gray hair, and a grease smudge on her cheek. "If you keep bouncing like that, you'll bounce right through the roof."

  I gave her a helpless smile and forced my legs to quit moving. Sometimes, Granny made me feel like I was still a child. Even though I was of legal age and old enough to be considered a woman in this town, she still treated me like an unruly girl who needed to be straightened out.

  She looked me over, suspicion in her eyes. I busied myself with counting the till and organizing the bills into neat little stacks. Eye contact would only reveal my secrets faster.

  Granny was probably a police officer in another life. Receiving her glare was like sitting under the hot yellow light of an interrogation room. She could squeeze a confession from the most hardened criminal by just looking at them.

  "I know you're excited about college, but you've got a whole summer to go before then," Granny said, drawing my eyes to her face.

  A blast of relief hit me when I realized that Granny thought my nervous energy was just about college. It was silly to think she would even suspect that I had hidden an insanely sexy demon in the woods. I just had to play it cool.

  "Sure thing, Granny," I said in a rush. "Don't want to lose my head."

  She frowned and shook her head. "Silly girl. Acting just like your mother. You know where that got her."

  I winced at the comparison. My mother had never told anyone where she went after she ran away, but Granny didn't need to know. She'd left the fold and let a man take advantage of her, even after all of Granny’s preaching. That was all that mattered.

  "I know, I'm sorry Granny." I bowed my head until she seemed satisfied, and left to complete her inspection of the air pump.

  Granny had been hard on me my entire life. She was determined to work the curse out of me, as if that were possible. Even though I was dying to ask, I never got the whole story about Granny and how she came to Hanna with my mother.

  One time, I overheard Sarah, a town elder, talking about Granny. She said that Granny had pulled into town in an old station wagon with a black eye and a dirty little toddler. They were hungry and out of money. Granny was offered a part-time job waitressing at the Calico Diner to make a few bucks, and she settled in. Eventually, she decided to stay in Hanna and bought the gas station.

  I'd tried to ask Granny about my grandfather once. All that bought me was a week doing dishes and a month without desert. Family was a topic that didn't sit well with Granny. I had come to assume that she, like most of the women in this town, left an abusive husband behind. If that was the case, then we were better off without him anyway.

  "Good afternoon, child," Queenie McKoy called to me as she strolled through the door, her jewelry clanking together.

  Queenie was Granny's only other emp
loyee. She had moved into town five years ago with her sister. They were both in their fifties and had been looking for a simpler life away from the crime and smog of the big cities.

  In most every way, she was Granny's opposite. Queenie loved color. She wore bright flowing clothes and big clunky jewelry. Her fake nails were long and painted a different shade each week. She was warm and caring and always up on the latest town gossip.

  "So, I hear you're leaving us for the big time," Queenie said, joining me behind the counter and pulling out her Pump N' Go apron.

  "Not until the fall," I said with a smile. "But yes, I'm going."

  "Woohee...girl. How'd you get your Granny to finally agree to that?"

  I shrugged and grinned. I kept asking myself that same question.

  "Well, we're all proud of you." Queenie pulled me into a hug and rubbed my back with her talons. "The goddess has blessed you with this wonderful opportunity. I know you'll do great."

  "Thanks, Queenie."

  I threw my apron in a bin under the counter and backed away. With Queenie here, I was free to leave. I didn't want to stick around and feel guiltier than I already was. What would people like Queenie think if they knew I had a demon tied up out in the woods? Would they understand? My guess was, probably not.

  "Oh baby girl," Queenie called before I had the chance to slip out the back door. "Your Granny wants you to check on the bathrooms before you leave. Make sure they're in proper order."

  Of course she does. Granny knew I hated cleaning the bathrooms more than anything. I'd rather skin a deer than touch those germ infested toilets. But, I’d better do what she asked if I wanted to keep her happy.

  "I'm on it," I said with a salute.

  There were two single stall bathrooms on the side of the gas station for the tourists that stopped. One for the men and one for the women. I grabbed a couple rolls of toilet paper from the back stockroom and headed outside.