FS-S1-Kobo

by S. K. Falls

  How could I not? I was entrenched in him. I wanted to be close to him at any cost. I'd asked for the job yesterday not just because I needed it, but because I needed him. I couldn't fathom not seeing him every day for the rest of my life.

  "You saved me," I said, instead of saying any of what I was really thinking. "You saved me from the other hound in the woods. Was it just so you could have my soul? Because I don’t believe that."

  At this he looked away, deep into the fire. I could see only the side of his face, the hardness of his jaw. "I don't know," he said in a low voice, and he could've been speaking to himself. "I was enraged that it wanted to harm you—the thought of your soul didn’t enter my mind.

  “I don't understand why I seem to care so much. I've never heard of a demon experiencing such an emotional connection to his betrothed, though it often gets emotional for the human. Your kind isn't very good at separating one from the other. But we're not made to care, to form such deep bonds. To fall in love."

  My heart soared at his last sentence. To fall in love. He was in love with me?

  Dax Allard was in love with me. My mind couldn’t wrap itself fully around his words.

  "It doesn't change anything."

  He squatted in front of the fireplace, then thrust his right arm into the flames. I only had time to gasp and cover my mouth with one hand before he grasped a burning log and stood to face me. Dax closed his fingers and the log crumbled to dust.

  The flames engulfed his hand and arm and kept burning. "I'm still a demon. I'm still bad for you." He blew out the fire with one deep breath. His hand continued to smoke, but other than that, there were no signs of damage—no blisters, not even reddened skin.

  I stood, one hand holding the waist of the pants I’d been loaned. My knees trembled; my heart jumped about in my chest as I walked toward him. His eyes were on a slow burn, watching my every step.

  "I'll be the judge of that." I took another step closer. Heat engulfed me, but I couldn't tell if it was the fire or my body reacting to him. "If you...like me, why did you look at me with so much hostility when we first met yesterday?" My throat constricted at the memory.

  "Hostility?" He looked momentarily confused, and then chuckled softly. Reaching out, he touched the tips of his fingers to my cheekbone, tracing a line down to one ear lobe. I shivered at the heat he left in his wake. He shook his head slowly, his eyes on my lips. "I was more than a little surprised, I'll admit." He lifted his left hand so both were at my face. His fingertips traced lines from my eyes to my nose to my lips. I could barely breathe; my pulse thundered in my ears. "I've been around humans for two hundred years"—my eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t seem to notice—"and not once have I ever encountered someone who made me feel the way you did. I didn't even have to see your face to know you were my betrothed. Your fragrance alone..." He leaned toward me, our noses almost touching, and breathed in deeply.

  I wanted him to kiss me like I'd never wanted anything else, but my body seemed to be frozen. Pulling back, he smiled. "And when I saw your reaction to me, it confirmed it. I couldn't imagine working with you every single day and not giving in to the urge to have you." His eyes sparkled.

  I felt heat in the pit of my stomach; my legs turned to jelly. His fingers ran lightly over my lips and then he dropped his hands. "But I've worked so hard to not cause harm. I haven't hurt anyone since—in a long time." Something hard glinted in his eyes. "And I won't start with you. Which is why I must beg you to reconsider taking this job."

  He took a step back and unthinkingly, I stepped forward so we could still be close. He sighed at my persistence, but didn't step back again.

  "No," I said. The stubborn note in my voice was noticeable even to me.

  He sighed again. "In that case, we must be careful. I will be careful. But a little help from you would be nice."

  "I'll do whatever I can to make it easier for you," I replied, thinking I'd do anything to be close to him.

  He smiled ruefully. "I don't know if that's possible, but all we can do is try. I care too much about you to just use you and discard you, Cara." His smile slipped away, and once again, he looked hard, unmoving. "I wish you'd see how dangerous this is."

  "Leave that up to me," I said, forcing myself to keep the tone light. I tugged at the waistline of the pants I wore. "Are these Victorine's clothes? I really should thank her for all her help."

  Dax looked past me to the door. "Then here's your chance."

  I turned to see a woman who could easily have been a movie starlet from the fifties. Her shoulder-length blonde hair curled in perfect ringlets, pinned to one side with a rhinestone-studded hairpin. She was tall with curves in all the right places, and wore a sleeveless wrap dress in spite of the weather. When she walked in, no hint of a smile lit her gorgeous face. She looked me up and down with the most devastating violet eyes. "You must be Cara Beaumont." The way she said it, in her husky, deep timber, it sounded like she was sick of hearing my name.

  "Yes." I smiled, glancing uneasily at Dax. He stood rigid by my side, his eyebrows knitted together. "I was just telling Dax I should thank you for being so kind to me. First by changing me yesterday and now by lending me your clothes."

  She just continued to stare at me apathetically. Abruptly, she turned to face Dax. "Father needs you. In the office."

  Dax put his hand on my arm, the scorching heat of his palm comforting against Victorine's cold demeanor. "I need to go speak with Oscar. The storm's still raging, so will you wait here till I return?"

  I nodded, and looked hesitantly from him to Victorine.

  He smiled. "Don't worry, Victorine is in the know. As is Oscar." He smile widened until he was grinning, and he flashed his teeth at Victorine. "In fact, they're demons themselves, though Victorine's only a halfling."

  My mouth fell open at how openly he said the word "demon." But then Victorine surprised me even more by ramming a fist, hard, into his chest. I heard her fist connect with his body—it was like hammer to stone—but Dax barely moved.

  He bent his knees to absorb the impact and laughed as he pushed her hand off him. "No need to get testy," he said. Then, turning to me: "I really must go, Cara. But I'll hurry back." The promise in his warm copper eyes heated my cheeks, and I nodded, my heart galloping.

  When it was just Victorine and me lounging by the fire, I looked at her through the fringe of my eyelashes. "What... what did Dax mean when he called you a halfling?"

  She rolled her brilliant eyes and tossed her curls in a theatric gesture. "Dax means only one of my parents is a demon. My mother was human. He thinks that makes me less of a demon than him." She blew out a breath. "Stupid demonic prejudices. I suppose they're still alive and well in the twenty-first century."

  I watched her dramatic motions and pronouncements, enthralled. I'd never seen someone as animated before, as perfectly movie-like, as her. She turned her gaze to me, and once again, it was cool, all traces of humor removed. "So..." She swiveled around to sit in an armchair so fast I questioned the laws of physics. "You're Dax's little...betrothed." The way she said "betrothed" was a sneer, a condescending allowance. It was clear she couldn't understand what all the fuss was about me.

  I didn't know how to answer, so I half-shrugged.

  "Hmm." She steepled her fingers and looked at me over the top of them. "My mother, though she was human, was such a beautiful woman. She'd won many a human pageant before Oscar came along and won her over. Most humans betrothed to demons are rather stunning." She emphasized the word "most." Clearly, I was not one of the majority.

  "Do female demons also go through betrothal?" I asked, simply because I wanted to say something to which she wouldn't take offense. I could already tell I wasn't Victorine's favorite person, though it baffled me as to why. What on earth did she have to hate me for?

  "Yes. And human males die from mating too. When their seed enters the demon female, their soul is ours for the taking." She smiled, and her teeth gleamed in the firelight. Lightning
turned the room a purple-white for a split moment. Victorine stared into the fire. "It's why we decided to move here, you know. Dax wanted to make sure we lived in remote places where our contact with the human populace would be limited. The thrall of betrothal is impossible to ignore, and he didn't want to cause harm." She looked back at me, her violet eyes hard, unforgiving. "And then you came along. We’ll have to move again, uproot completely, simply because of you."

  I tensed as her hands closed around the chair's arms, her beautifully manicured nails ripping into the fabric. It didn't look like she was aware of what she was doing.

  Someone cleared their throat, and both Victorine and I looked toward the door. Dax strode in, his brow furrowed as he looked from Victorine and the ruined chair to me. "Is everything all right?" His rough voice was quiet, but a thread of menace lurked just underneath.

  "Fine!" Victorine's voice rang out like a cheery bell, and her eyes turned on me, daring me to disagree.

  I nodded. There was no point in antagonizing her anymore than I already had. "Sure."

  Victorine got up and headed fluidly for the door. "I better go," she said. "Nice meeting you, Cara."

  "You too."

  I turned to Dax and smiled. "Everything okay?"

  The look on his face stopped me cold. His perfect features were tight with anger. "I have to take you home."

  "Okay." My heart sank at the thought of leaving him, and I wondered what had brought this on. Had I said something to make him angry? Had he overheard Victorine?

  I cast a sideways glance at him as we walked to the door. His shoulders were set, and his jaw clenched. He grabbed an umbrella from the stand by the front door, and as we stepped into the rain, he held it over me, leaving himself uncovered.

  I struggled to gather my courage as we walked to my car. He opened the door for me, still sheltering me with the umbrella. Before I got in, I turned to him. "What...what's happened?"

  Whatever he saw on my face softened his expression. His eyes turned from hard copper pennies to molten liquid. Putting one blazing palm on my cheek, he said, "Please don't be alarmed. There's just been a...troubling development. But it's nothing I can't handle."

  He smiled, but I wasn't deterred. My eyebrows furrowed and my heart began beating faster. "What sort of development? Does it have to do with me?"

  "No." But the answer came out too quick, too sudden.

  We stared at each other as the rain sheeted down, drenching Dax. I was dry and comfortable under the umbrella, but a sudden gust of wind made me shiver. Something wasn't right. "Please tell me," I whispered.

  Dax's palm fell. He sighed. "The hound I killed in the woods yesterday...its master is not happy. He wants to speak with me."

  Alarm bells began clanging in my head. "Why?"

  Dax looked past me, his eyes turning into pennies again. "Sometimes demons become rather attached to their hounds. And when a hound is killed—and not just killed, but utterly destroyed, like I did to his—they take it as a mark of disrespect."

  "But how did he even know the hound was killed? Was he around, too? Did he see?" I thought, irrationally, that if the demon had seen how his hound behaved toward me, he'd understand that it wasn't Dax's fault. He'd only been trying to protect me.

  "No." Dax took a deep breath. "But hounds and their masters have a deep connection. You know how I said Shuck could hear me when I thought of him?"

  I nodded.

  "Well, I'd be able to hear if he was in great pain or if he was being attacked. It's just how our link is. So when this demon—Marion—saw what I did, he was rather enraged. He's contacted us to let us know he'd like to meet." His hand tightened around the umbrella, and I saw a crack form. Dax appeared to make a conscious effort to stop crushing it, but his hand was smoking.

  I stared at it. "Is that"—I reached out to touch his hand but had to pull away; it was scorching—"a demon thing? The smoking?"

  "Yes," he answered. "Extreme emotion causes it. When it's especially hard to control, we can even set fire to things. Another reason we're dangerous to your kind." He looked hopeful, as if this might be the thing that convinced me to go away.

  But I simply nodded. "And Marion—when will he be here?"

  Dax looked toward the gates again. "He should be arriving tonight. All the more reason to get you home. Like I said before, chances are he’s not a demon like me, Oscar or Victorine. Oscar and I should discuss how to handle him."

  I held in a shudder before another question occurred to me. “So demons don’t have to be betrothed to someone to take their soul, right? What’s special about a betrothed’s soul?”

  Dax looked off into the rain as he spoke. “A betrothed helps us procreate, spread our seed. But also, a betrothed’s soul is the ultimate feast. It’s what sates us for centuries afterward. And some demons looking for revenge, well, they like to go after their rival’s betrothed just to be vengeful.” When he looked back at me, his eyes were spitting sparks.

  "Okay." I got in the car. I definitely didn’t want to be around this Marion guy. "Don't worry. I'm sure I'll get home safely."

  He grinned as he folded the umbrella. "I know you will. I'll be following your car."

  "Oh." I looked around but didn't see any other vehicles. "What will you be driving?"

  He gestured to his glorious body, still grinning. "This."

  My eyes widened as I understood. He'd be running behind me. He was fast enough and tireless enough to keep up with my car. Not to mention stealthy enough to not be seen.

  He laughed. "A lot to get used to, aren't I?" I could hear the insecurity in his question and it made my heart clench. He was so worried I was going to give up.

  "No," I said stubbornly. "I like learning about you."

  He shook his head, ruefully. "We'll see how long that lasts," he muttered. And then, louder: "Drive safely, please."

  I nodded, and after a long glance that set my stomach turning cartwheels, he closed my car door and watched as I drove away. When I was turned around and pointed in the right direction, I checked my rearview mirror but he was gone.

  In my mom’s driveway, I got out of my car and looked toward the woods, but there was still no sign of Dax. The air was still and felt compressed, under pressure somehow. I waved, feeling stupid, and then let myself in.

  After I'd changed into my own clothes—I'd left mine from this morning drying on Dax's fireplace hearth—I began to pace the living room. My muscles felt packed with nervous energy. I was sure I could jump over the tallest mountain in Eden if I wanted to.

  So much had happened—was happening—and I still had to make sense of it all.

  Dax really was a demon. There was something incredible, something supernatural and unstoppable, happening between us that we were powerless to stop. He was so convinced that he was bad for me, but I knew without a doubt that he was exactly what my life had been missing until now. Already, his absence hurt like a steel splinter in my foot. It was impossible to ignore, impossible to not acknowledge every single time I took a step.

  But being rushed away because a demon was coming to "speak" with him was terrifying. Especially since Marion knew exactly what had happened to his horrible hound. And if his hound had been that awful, that sinister, that evil, what would his master be like? A shudder convulsed through me and my mouth went dry. Was Dax in danger? He hadn't seemed worried, just angry. But would he tell me or let it show if he was truly worried?

  As thunder snarled outside, I realized I couldn't sit in the house and just wait for the hours to pass by. I'd go crazy. I needed a distraction. After grabbing my car keys, I ran back out and got back in the Volvo.

  I decided to visit Eden's minimart for a pile or two of magazines and maybe even some escapist fiction if I could find it. Poetry was great in tough times, but when I was nervous I needed something that'd help me pass the time.

  I parked outside the store fifteen minutes later and went in. The doorbell announced me with a loud ding, and the vaguely-familiar girl be
hind the counter looked up from her magazine.

  "Cara?" she asked, her pale blue eyes narrowing. "Cara Beaumont?"

  I stopped, my cheeks reddening. I didn't remember her name. "Yeah! Hi!"

  "It's Felicity Watkins. Y'all don't remember me, I can tell." She smiled really wide anyway, as if she'd expected me to not have a clue about who she was.

  "Wow, Felicity. You look, um...different."

  "I had two babies since we graduated high school." She tugged on her blonde ponytail. "Gained some weight, I know."

  She'd gained about a hundred pounds. No wonder I hadn't recognized her. But from what I recalled, Felicity was nice, a genuinely warm person.

  "Congratulations on the babies," I said, somewhat awkwardly. I wanted to get back to the safety of the house with my magazines, but I felt obligated to ask. "How old are they?"

  "Come on now, I know y'all don't wanna hear about that." She laughed. "Tell me what you're doing back in town, woman! I thought your plan was to disappear to Chicago and never come back."

  I'd been fairly vocal about my dislike of Eden, but still, I was surprised she remembered, especially since we hadn't exactly been friends.

  "Yeah, well, I couldn't find a job. I'm back home with my mom now, just temporarily. You know, until I can get back up on my feet." I wasn’t completely sure that would be my plan of action now, not after meeting Dax, but it seemed like something to say that’d end the conversation. I grabbed a few women's magazines at random and placed them on the counter.

  "I hear ya," she said, ringing me up. "Damn shame what's come of the economy. I'm barely makin' rent myself."

  "It's tough," I agreed, quelling the urge to tell her to go home and lock herself inside safely until tomorrow. Instead, I paid her with cash and waited for my bag.

  Felicity looked at me thoughtfully as she handed me my magazines. "You run into any of our classmates yet?"