Said the Demon to Little Miss Eva

by Billy London

  Like when she'd met Gabriel and told him quite blatantly to his face that he was from a long line of struggle? Or when she'd met Richard and thought instantly that he was parasitic, but he had convinced her that he was only interested in her as a person? Like when she'd first met Michael and she'd known he was troubled? Oh, god help her.

  “I'm sure it was just stuff people told me,” she mumbled, trying not to feel sick.

  “No, it's like... You know when young people are able to see ghosts or they have paranormal events take place around them, then they grow up and it stops? It's that openness that you've kept. Add all your sexual energy, and I'm actually surprised none of this happened earlier.”

  “How do you even know all of this?”

  He gave her a boyish grin. “Did I tell you that my dad's a priest?”

  “You are such a cliché,” she teased. “Son of a preacher man. Am I all cleansed now?”

  He leaned over and handed her a huge fluffy towel. “Yes. When I had the 'I don't care' talk with your sister, I emailed her later and asked her what you needed to live. She mentioned lots of stuff made by Palmers.”

  Eva started to giggle. “She's got that right. Where'd your housekeeper have to go? Kensal Rise?”

  “Yup. Well, you make yourself comfortable and I'll be in the bedroom. Okay?”

  With a nod, he left her to cleanse herself from head to toe. Funny how cocoa butter made her feel comforted. Enveloped in lavender-scented cotton, she padded her into his bedroom. Gabriel sat her down on the bed whilst he sat cross-legged on the floor opposite her and said, “Talk to me.”

  There was nothing on earth that could have induced her to talk about this, but when a man saves your life, you do owe him an explanation.

  “When I was fifteen, I was living in Leeds. I went to St. Mary's Secondary School. I was one of those kids who managed to get on with everyone. My parents were both working, really good jobs and we were all fine. I made friends in my fifth year with a boy called Fred Hembry. Everyone called him Freddy, because he had weird eyes, like Krueger from Nightmare on Elm Street? He was very creative. I used to feel so... I don't know, talented around him, but also like we were pretending together. To be different people. I felt like Freddy wasn't really his name. So he was David Bailey, and I was Cézanne. We found out the school was arranging a trip to France. It was this sensation, really odd, and I couldn't shake it, being part of that trip felt wrong. And I was actually relieved that my parents didn't have the money for it.” Eva for once let that sensation of guilt feed through her. “The next thing we knew, everyone on that bus was dead. My headmaster asked me to do a reading because, of the ten of us, he said it was like I was prepared. But I cried for them, I cried for every single one of them. Nothing could have prepared me for it.” She looked up from her knees. Gabriel was staring at her with the oddest expression on his face.

  “It was pretty big news,” she admitted. “I'm sure you heard about it.”

  He caught her hand and pressed his mouth to her knuckles. “I'll tell you another time. Carry on.”

  “The day before we found out about Freddy, I dreamed about him. I was drawing him, he was sitting behind a canvas, and I was drawing a cameo on the canvas. But his profile didn't match the outline. It wasn't him at all. It was something very, very ugly. And evil. When I woke up, my mum told me that Fred was alive. We weren't able to visit him, and before anything else, his parents took him away. They couldn't cope with him being called a freak for surviving. I didn't dream about him again. Went to counseling. Dealt with it. Felt really angry that people I cared about had been taken away. That's probably why all my paintings have an element of death in them.

  “When I met Michael, I knew there was something not quite right. He's Freddy. I know he is. So maybe you're right about the whole empath thing. Because I'm right back to being that guilty girl who didn't speak up and let all those people die, and I'm doing the same thing with him.”

  Gabriel sat next to her on the bed. “Would anyone have believed you if you'd said you had a bad feeling about that trip?”

  “Get in the way of a week off school?” she snorted. “They'd have thought I was mad. I was mad. I know you probably think it's just survivor's guilt, but...it feels like more than that.” Finally a tear rolled over Eva's cheek. “I haven't cried for them in so long. I haven't cried for Freddy in a long time. And I didn't want to leave him there, because I know he's so scared. He must be. It's not him. It hasn't been for years.”

  Gabriel's arms came around her, pulling her onto him as he edged back onto the bed. “It's okay. We'll help him. We just need to help you first.”

  “I'm so tired.” Her voice broke over the last word.

  “Just sleep a little,” he murmured. “You're with me.”

  ***

  There was a humming stillness when Eva opened her eyes. She was still wrapped in a towel, and Gabriel's arms were locked at her waist. It was still dark outside. Feeling her shift with consciousness, Gabriel moved beneath her. “Okay?”

  “Hmm. What time is it?”

  He peered at his watch. “Half four.”

  She'd slept through horror hour? Gabriel was good. Her stomach gave a fierce rumble which made Gabriel chuckle. “Let me have a shower and we'll go find some food.”

  “Salad?”

  “Fuck no, I need carbs.” He yawned, rubbing the heel of his hand into his eyes. “Damn jet lag.”

  “Toast and salad?” she offered.

  Gabriel sent her a bemused smile. “Why are you selling salad to me?”

  “Because it's the only thing I can cook,” she said desperately.

  “Angel,” he said, roaring with laughter. “Salad is not cooking.” He hauled her to her feet. “Give me ten minutes and I'll show you.” As he disappeared into the bathroom, Eva rummaged around his wardrobe for clothing. The towel was uncomfortably damp and she had zero underwear. Well, it was Gabriel, hopefully there'd be no need for it. She pulled on a shirt that reached mid-thigh and rolled up the sleeves.

  “Hot,” Gabriel said approvingly as he emerged from the bathroom. He seemed to prefer his own toweled clothing and lead her downstairs to the kitchen. He smelled divine, she thought, pressing her mouth to his shoulder. As he opened the fridge door, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Thai green chicken curry. Needs to be hot enough to burn the devil from your soul. Can you boil rice at least?”

  “Not without burning it,” she stated without apology.

  He shook his head. “Wow, your mum didn't give you anything to work with, did she?”

  “Don't be a twat. Just bring me food, man.”

  As patient as ever, he showed her how to make the simple meal, intermittently giving her kisses as rewards. He switched on his sound system, speakers connected to each corner of the kitchen, loops of blues music giving them the most solid chopping rhythm.

  “And cheaper than ordering it,” Gabriel said with a flourish when the food was ready.

  “Cheaper than having the delivery guy selling your autograph,” Eva teased. Michael's face was edging into her mind, but she needed to push him to one side. Just for a little bit.

  Gabriel cupped her cheek with one hand. “You first, all right?”

  She nodded and went to pick up her fork when Gabriel held out both hands toward her. She put her fork down and hesitantly placed her hands in his. He bowed his head, eyes closed, and to Eva's surprise said grace.

  “You just said grace?”

  He released her hands and started to fork up the curry. “Yes I did.”

  “When we...in your hotel room...and at my exhibition...”

  Gabriel's fork did a reverse turn. “Did you read a whole marriage ceremony in Genesis? Was Eve wearing a dress from Dolce and Gabbana? Had Adam spent his life savings on a ring? No. God gave Eve to Adam so he wouldn't be alone. God gave you to me, so I should be saying thank you. All right with that, or do you need to confess?”

  She blinked. “Nope, I'm...I'm good.”

>   “Praise be.”

  They ate all the curry and the rice, then made a start on the mango ice cream Gabriel's housekeeper had wonderfully left in the freezer, taking the heated edge off the chilies which Gabriel had promised were indeed “hot enough to cleanse the soul.” Not wanting to feel like a complete pig, Eva finished her bowl and started clearing the kitchen. Gabriel followed her, piling their things into the dishwasher.

  John Lee Hooker came on the stereo as she straightened. Oh god, she really didn't need any help on that score. That beat tattooed between her legs. She could feel it at the tops of her thighs. She would blame John Lee Hooker, but it was all Gabriel. The warmth of cedar-wood blossoming from his skin. She didn't understand people who thought he was just pretty. He was walking pornography.

  Her hands curled around the counter behind her, almost as if trying to prevent herself from touching him. “Boom boom,” she murmured in time with John Lee.

  He flashed a grin at her. “Boom boom,” he echoed.

  The kiss didn't catch her off guard, it was how close she was to having an orgasm. Either she'd been without sex for far too long or he was just that good. He coaxed her mouth open and she dimly figured it was Option B. He unbuttoned her shirt and threw it across the kitchen before he caught her by the hips and placed her firmly on top of the counter, her legs parted by his hefty torso. His gaze travelled from hers, down her naked chest, to focus on the thin strip of hair just above her pussy. The glint in his eyes made her even wetter.

  He stroked the back of his index finger over her bare pussy. She shuddered under his touch. “Is this how it's going to be every time I come home?”

  “Yes, honey,” she promised frantically, pulling him closer. “Every single time. You can have me now.”

  His hand trailed agonizingly slowly from her pussy up to her breast. He pressed his thumb against her nipple, which was so hard, his touch was almost painful.

  “So I can,” he agreed.

  His kiss was so different now. No mistaking his intention with the way his mouth moved over hers. He picked her up from the counter, urging her legs around his waist as he carried her to the living room.

  “Far enough,” he declared, kneeling on the rug with Eva locked on his lap. From beneath her, she felt the towel being ripped away, and there was nothing between his stiffening cock and her pussy.

  She lifted her lips from his and glanced down, happily and very distinctly reminded that he was a whole lot of man, wriggling tantalizingly against his bulge. “Now please.”

  “We have had a year's worth of foreplay, I'll go with that for once.” He slowly rubbed the full length of his thickened cock over her swollen pussy, which was fluttering with need. She was so close to coming now, she could feel it tingling along her arms, on her lower belly, in the arches of her feet. He pulled her back onto his lap and slowly lowered her onto his cock, allowing her to savor the feel of every inch of his cock spreading her pussy open like it never had been before. The pressure of him just entering her broke her orgasm, just as her pussy lips encircled the base of him. Her hands gripped his neck, desperate for a connection to something more real than the intensity of her pleasure.

  “You okay?” he asked softly.

  “I'd be really embarrassed if I was a guy,” she breathed, resting her forehead on his.

  “So would I.” He smiled, tilting his head slightly to kiss her, his hands firmly at her hips. She felt completely full, and fully complete. They could have been doing this for the past year if she hadn't... It was gone now. “Little more, Angel?”

  “Yeah,” she sighed, “please.”

  She couldn't quite seem to make her body obey her, so his huge hands cupped a buttock each and with near tortuous slowness, he lifted her along the length, wetly stroking each inch of him. The aching sensation of being slowly stretched to take all of him garnered her strength. She dug her nails into his shoulders and slowly felt him slip from her.

  “Feels like foreplay,” he growled at her.

  “Let me,” she told him, brushing her mouth over his. She arched her back so only the tip of him nestled inside her. She began a rocking motion with her hips, her ample bottom shaking as her inner walls were caressed by the head of his cock. This was better than any sex toy, the heat of him, the girth, sweet Lord, the girth. Her moans started to echo in the open space as she rocked faster, racing toward another orgasm. Gabriel soon lost patience and his thumbs dug into her hip bones as he stilled her to ram his cock wholly into her. She cried out hoarsely as she came again, her fingers biting into him. She was barely lucid now, only just noting that Gabriel hadn't come at all, but he was still thrusting into her.

  “I can't,” she gasped. “I can't come any more.”

  “I think,” he answered, laying her on the rug, “you'll be surprised.”

  He hooked his arms under her knees and opened her wide. Between her breasts, and in the light of her sweat-misted body, she watched his cock, thick and an angry red, slipping between her dark puffy pussy lips. His chest was flushed with color, veins fit to bursting at his arms. He looked almost pale beside her. Her own skin deepened in color to a glossy mocha. He leaned right over her, his chest cushioned firmly against her breasts. The full weight of him on top of her, between her thighs, inside her, dragged her toward a release within moments. Gabriel tensed when her pussy clamped down on him, his frame rigid against her own. She felt the hot pulse of his cum inside her again and again. He groaned her name before he relaxed completely against her.

  John Lee Hooker was now singing about whisky and wimmin. Oh John, she thought. What have you and Gabriel done to me? “I feel religious.” She grinned when she could finally speak.

  “Really?”

  “I just saw God.”

  His laugh tickled over her skin. “You little smorgasbord.” He lifted his head and made her look at him. “Don't ever make me wait like that again.”

  “Well learn to make a move faster.”

  “Evangeline...”

  The warning in the use of her full name was Las Vegas enough for her to relent. “Okay. I promise,” she said honestly, leaning up to kiss him. The feel of his lips under hers warmed her and managed to turn her on again.

  “Good. Because I know what gets you started. John Lee Hooker.”

  Her pussy contracted automatically around his softened cock, still wetly and firmly buried inside her.

  “Good girl,” he approved, sitting up. She felt quite lonely without him and sat up as well.

  It was going seven in the morning now, light stealing through the huge bay windows into the living room. She felt right now, quite at peace watching her man wrap the towel around his waist. They could go back to his bedroom and sleep some more. It was addictive, and hell, what else sent a woman to sleep faster than a damn good orgasm or three? He pulled her to her feet with him and curled his arms around her as he listened to his messages. One was in a completely different language. “Ah, I need to call my Dad. Don't move, okay?”

  “If you had a bedroom down here, that's where I'd be.” Eva yawned. “You're probably going to have to carry me upstairs.”

  “Easy,” he warned. He dialed quickly. “You're about to hear a lot of Russian. Hi, Dad?” He speaks Russian? And I'm coming off the pill. The fluent flow of words that came from Gabriel was really turning her on, which he started to notice when she pressed herself more firmly to his side.

  “Dad wants to talk to you,” Gabriel said suddenly, handing the phone to her. Was he serious? She wasn't dressed! She was freaking naked! How was she supposed to have a conversation with Gabriel's father? Who was a priest! And she'd just had a banging good time with his son. Oh god help her!

  “Angel!” came a warm voice. “You are Angel, yes?”

  “Hello Mr. Walker,” she mumbled. “Er...Reverend Walker.”

  “Actually, it's Volkov. My son helpfully bastardized my surname to appeal to the masses.”

  Wow. “Right.”

  “Anyway, he tells me you ar
e demon hunting.”

  Eva looked at her pink toenails. “Sort of. It's a friend of mine. I think he's been like this for a very long time.”

  “I see.” The understanding in two words was immense. “It will be well, Angel. Now, this is what you must do. If you feel the connection to your friend, you must allow it to happen. He will need something solid to grasp onto. It will be your friendship. Your memories of the person he is. You will need to know that he will say things, hurtful things to you. It's not him. Keep Christian artifacts close to you. Crucifixes, Bibles. They will be your protection. Gabriel knows what to do. Listen to him.” A certain tone took over his voice. “I am sure that you are a very strong woman, you must be to survive what you have, but take Gabriel's direction. Trust him. All right?”

  “Yes, Reverend Volkov.”

  “Isaak, please. Excellent. And when you have finished with your demon, please come and visit. We will have dinner. We will talk philosophy behind the Civil War in Spain. It would be nice to meet the woman my son plans on spending the rest of his life with. Zdravstvuj!”

  He disconnected to Eva's eternal shock. Gabriel caught the expression on her face. “You get used to it,” he said with a shrug.

  “Can we go back to bed?” Eva asked. “I think we'll be able to handle this better if we get some rest first.”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Working that empath thing.”

  Chapter Nine

  It was just because the sun was shining. That was the only reason her building looked like it was surrounded by fire. Gabriel's hand tightened around hers. “Are you ready?”

  She gave a firm and decisive nod. They took the stairs to Michael's flat, and with each step, Eva really wanted to jump into the lift and run so fast. She didn't need to know what was in that flat. What Michael had done to those girls. She didn't want to know anything of the sort. Breath coming in short gasps, Eva sat on the last step before Michael's flat and gripped the railings. “I can't do it.”

  “Angel.”

  “Who am I? I'm the girl who runs. I'm always running. I'm really good at running.”