A Demon's Debt (The Desdemona Chronicles Book 2)

by Cece Rose

  “He dinnae answer his phone, I left a message asking him to come here,” he answers, moving to sit up on the counter where Gabby had just vacated.

  “So, we just wait?” I ask.

  “Aye, lass. We just wait.”

  “You want me to just drop him off somewhere? Are you insane?” Nick sneers as he leans up against a wooden beam, his arms folded defensively against his chest as he looks down at the man on the ground.

  “Pretty much, yeah. Just drop him somewhere far away from here,” I reply narrowing my eyes on Nick. Taking in his dishevelled blond hair and tired green eyes, I can’t help but wonder if he was taking a nap when Callan called. He pulls a face at my reply. “Is that a problem?” I question.

  “A problem? Of course, it’s a problem. The man is clearly unhinged, and we should be handing him over to the council, not setting him free on the world,” Nick answers.

  “The council will kill him!” I snap, furious that Nick would just hand him over.

  “So, that’s not my problem, or yours,” he replies coldly.

  “Stop being such an ass. Please, will you help us and just drop him somewhere away from here, preferably somewhere safe. He's just a victim of circumstance,” I plead. I look over to where Callan is standing silently just watching the two of us, pleading with my eyes for him to help me. He shakes his head ever so slightly. Thanks for the help, not.

  “I could lose my job for doing this,” he mutters. His job?

  “Your job? What about someone’s freaking life! They are going to kill him. Dead. I think that is a little bit more important, it’s life or death for god’s sake!” I reply, almost shouting now because I’m so mad.

  “Mona—” Callan begins, but he’s cut off by a glare from Nick.

  “Fine. I’ll do it,” he agrees begrudgingly.

  “Thank you,” I say softly, feeling my anger start to fade now he’s agreed.

  “I’m not doing this for you,” he snaps, clearly not over his own anger as he steps forward. “Drop your damn circle so I can grab him.” I release the connection between me and my circle and it instantly drops. The man on the floor doesn’t even move, just stays curled up in a ball.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Nick grumbles, leaning down and grabbing onto the sniffling man, tugging him upright. “I’ll see you both at home,” he says quickly, and then with a light pop and a slight change in air pressure, he’s gone.

  “Why is Nick such an asshat at times,” I mutter as I’m turning to face Callan.

  “At times, lass?” Callan asks with a rueful smile.

  “Fine, all the time,” I grumble good-naturedly. Callan seems to contemplate something for a moment before speaking.

  “Nick wasn’t just trying tae be awkward, lass,” he finally says as he walks across the room to stand closer to me.

  “Then what was he doing?” I question, rolling my eyes. Stupid Nicky always has to be an asshat. Can't he just do the right damn thing without someone making him? “Well?” I add when Callan doesn't answer me right away.

  “His job, well it’s not just his job. It’s his punishment. He has to work for the council until he’s twenty-five. Otherwise, he’ll spend the next few years in a cell instead,” he explains.

  “So, him being worried about getting caught wasn’t just that he was worried about his job?” I ask.

  “No, lass, he is more worried about the other repercussions,” he answers me.

  “Great. There was definitely an ass in the room just then, but it was me instead,” I mutter. I tug a hair tie off my wrist and pull my blonde hair into a messy high ponytail, and out from my face.

  “You dinnae ken, lass, I wouldnae worry about it. Nick may be an ass, but he’s a reasonable one,” he replies while rubbing his hand on my shoulder in a comforting motion.

  “Thanks, Cal,” I mumble, shrugging him off. Asshole Mona doesn’t deserve his reassurance. Why do I always assume the worst in people?

  “Alright, now ye can help me clean up the storage room before we leave,” Callan says cheerfully, already heading towards the back of the shop.

  Great. Because that sounds like so much fun.

  Chapter 7

  Breathing in deeply, I take in the amazing smell floating up from the kitchen. It’s totally time for dinner, right? I skip down the stairs almost tripping on the step that’s fifth from the bottom. The damn step is uneven from the rest of them and I’ve nearly tripped on it almost every single time I’ve gone up and down them since staying here.

  Walking into the kitchen, I notice that Callan and a confused looking Mason are standing by the oven. I spot Kaden and Nick sitting at the breakfast bar looking through some paperwork. Kaden looks up at me as I walk into the room and I wander over to where he’s sitting, taking the seat next to him. I crane my neck to look up at his face.

  “It smells really good in here, but Mason is standing by the oven. Should I be afraid?” I question Kaden quietly knowing that he’ll hear me easily anyway.

  “Terrified. Mason has decided his new goal is to be able to cook dinner. Luckily for us, he’s only watched Callan cook today. We’ll survive for another day at least.”

  “But what about tomorrow?” I ask, suddenly concerned. I cast a wary glance in Mason’s direction before looking back up into Kaden’s sea-green eyes.

  “Tomorrow…tomorrow we order pizza,” he answers, expression deadpan.

  Nick laughs from across the breakfast bar. I look up and notice him tucking all the paperwork back into a black, unlabelled folder. I smile, glad that Nick seems to be over what happened yesterday. He was in such a foul mood when he got in last night that even Mason had avoided him.

  Nick opens his mouth to speak when the doorbell chimes. Kaden turns his head in the direction of the front of the house for a minute as if focusing, before a shit-eating grin takes over his face.

  “What?” Nick questions bluntly.

  “It’s for you,” Kaden replies, grin still firmly in place. Nick rises out of his seat and stalks off, presumably, to answer the door.

  “Who is it?” I ask Kaden.

  “Just wait,” he answers. I notice Callan and Mason crossing the kitchen to us.

  “Is it….?” Callan trails off smirking.

  “It is,” Kaden replies.

  “What do you think she’ll make of Mona?” Mason asks softly. I dart my eyes between each of them as they speak.

  “I’m more worried what Mona will make of her,” Kaden answers, chuckling.

  “Okay, now I’m concerned, who the hell is this girl?” I snap.

  “I'm Tiffany, who the fuck are you?” a shrill, high voice calls from the entrance of the kitchen. I look up to see a replica of a freaking Barbie doll standing before me, pink-rimmed sunglasses in hand. Dressed in a light-pink floaty top, pristine white jeans, and killer pink heels. She stands much taller than I do, probably even without the heels. I think for a moment before it hits me.

  “Wait, vampire Tiffany?” I question while smothering a laugh.

  “So, you’ve been told about me? Nice things I hope. Nikolas hasn’t said anything to me about you; I guess unimportant things slip your mind like that,” she comments snidely. I roll my eyes ignoring the comment, just another mean girl on a power trip. When will these bitches realise high school is over? I turn back towards Kaden, smirking.

  “Luuuuuurve bite Tiffany?” I say, dragging out the words teasingly, as I attempt to wriggle my eyebrows at him. Kaden looks at me for a moment, his eyes widening ever so slightly, and then he bursts into complete laughter.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Nick mutters darkly. I look back up and see Tiffany pouting. She lays a hand on Nick possessively.

  “Nikolas, honey, what are they talking about?” she asks her tone sickly sweet.

  Nick steps back from Tiffany, frowning. “Bite, vampire, something like that,” he mutters, shooting us a glare. I share a conspiring smile with Kaden. “What are you doing here anyway, Tiff, I didn’t invite you,” he a
dds.

  “I was just in the neighbourhood—”

  “We live in the middle of nowhere, there is no neighbourhood,” he answers bluntly, cutting her off.

  “You weren’t answering my phone calls.”

  “Am I required to?”

  “Well—”

  “That was rhetorical, Tiff.”

  “Fine, I’ll just go. I was meant to be having dinner with my father and his new girlfriend anyway. I’ll let him know you said hi,” she says with a smile, showing off her pointy little teeth. I feel Kaden tense up next me at the mention of Tiffany’s dad. Nick visibly seems to pale, too, and both are silent. I look between the three of them wondering what could have them so spooked at the mere mention of someone. Callan coughs, and everyone’s heads whip around in his direction.

  “There’s plenty here, Tiffany, why don’t ye stay here for dinner instead?”

  “I’d love to,” Tiffany replies quickly as she walks over to the dining table that we never use, and takes a seat. “Well, isn’t anyone going to offer me a drink?” she asks, flashing her pointy teeth.

  I turn to Kaden. “She’s not?” I ask hesitantly.

  “She’s not going to be drinking blood at the table, M,” he says, laughing at the horrified expression on my face.

  “Small mercies.”

  “Come on, I need to speak to you a minute,” Kaden says softly, tugging me out the room by my elbow. He heads for the stairs and I follow him up. He heads into his bedroom, and I slowly walk in after him. I feel weird at coming into his personal space, having not been in his room before now. I glance around the room, taking in the dark green wallpaper and the wooden furniture. The wooden desk, bed frame, wardrobe, and shelves all look to be made of the same dark-coloured wood. The dark green and black sheets on his bed match the wallpaper perfectly, and the curtains are open allowing the evening sun to shine inside, casting a warm glow over the room. There's a shelf on the far side of the room that’s covered in jars and vials. The mixture that looks most common on his shelf is a light pink colour, I can't help but wonder what it does. I turn from my inspection of his room and face him.

  “What’s up, elf-ears?” I ask. He makes a shushing motion and shuts the door behind us, cutting off all noise from downstairs.

  “My room is practically soundproofed,” Kaden says.

  “I don't know if I should ask, but curiosity is in my nature…why is your room soundproofed?” I ask. He smiles.

  “Well, angel, would you like to find out?” he practically purrs, his voice low as he steps closer. I feel my mouth go dry. He can’t be serious? I try to reply but choke on my words. He steps even closer and I practically go weak at the knees from the seductive look on his face. He leans down, his form towering over mine as he puts his lips to my ear and whispers softly, “Because it’s really fucking hard to sleep with my elf hearing.” He pulls back and laughs. “You look like you’re about to have a heart attack, M. Wanna tell me what reasons you were thinking of? I’m sure they are much more interesting than mine,” he adds, winking at me.

  “I wasn’t thinking of anything,” I splutter quickly, but he smiles knowingly.

  “Whatever you say, angel, but I know what dirty thoughts were going on inside that pretty, little head of yours,” he teases.

  “So, what did you bring me up here to talk about?” I ask, choosing to ignore the teasing comments.

  “You need to be careful around Tiffany. She can’t know what you are, her dad is a part of the council. He’s a Dominus, the vampire one. All the big races are represented by a Dominus, but he is one of the most powerful.”

  “So, what am I to let her think I am?” I ask.

  “There’s no way to tell a witch and a human, or halfling for that matter, apart by smell. You’d be safest telling her you’re a witch, as only a witch could say with certainty that you aren’t one. They’re good at telling their own kind, even though their physical appearance and smell is the same as a human.”

  “Okay, a witch it is,” I reply, trying not to let my nerves show. I’m a terrible liar.

  “I would try to avoid saying much to her at all, M. She’s a little…err…insane?”

  “Insane?” I question.

  “To put it lightly,” he clarifies.

  “Why did Callan invite her to stay?” I moan.

  “Because otherwise, she would have told her father that Nick is doing something wrong. She's manipulative and vindictive. We tried to warn Nick off her, but what can I say, Nick likes danger,” he replies, sighing. His sea-green eyes are shining with concern as he talks about Nick. I know how much Kaden cares for him, having seen him show his protective side over Nick more than the others.

  “Okay, don’t talk much to Tiffany, make her think I am a witch. Anything else?” I ask.

  “Just try not to rise to any of her jibes, she likes getting a reaction out of people, just be the bigger person.”

  I nod in response, and he opens the bedroom door, leading me back downstairs.

  Be the bigger person? I can totally do that.

  I totally can’t do this. Sitting across from me is Satan in the form of a pretty girl, I am sure of it. A Satan with perfect, platinum-blonde hair and perfect, white, pointy teeth. A Satan that keeps putting her fucking hands all over Nick. Her stupid, perfectly-manicured hands. I jab my fork down onto my plate, stabbing it into a piece of carrot while picturing it as her stupid, perfect face.

  “So, daddy was adamant on a prison sentence for that witch, but I told him, ‘You can’t just let trash like that live on to reproduce.’ Thankfully, he listened, and he got the chop instead. I just think that people like that are just too risky. They give witches a bad name. Don’t you agree, Callan?” she asks in a sugar sweet voice. I can see the strain on Callan’s face as he struggles to keep his composure.

  “Can we keep the politics off the table, Tiff,” Nick mutters.

  “Sure, of course, we can. I would hate to make anyone feel uncomfortable. I totally forgot, your uncle is a black witch, isn't he?” she asks Callan.

  “Was,” Callan corrects her.

  “Oh, he died? I didn't know. One less dodgy individual giving your kind a bad name. I assume you're relieved? I mean, not that your family name is salvageable, but at least it can’t get any worse now, right?” she says smugly, taking another bite of her food. “You do cook a mean dinner, though, maybe you should sell up your shop and go into cooking instead? I can’t imagine business is doing well,” she adds offhandedly.

  “Business is fine,” he replies through gritted teeth.

  “Really? I wouldn't think witches would want to buy from your family after what happened, but you guys as a race are a little wacky I suppose,” she replies. She turns to me, “What about you, Mona? Do you buy your witchy supplies from Callan?”

  “All of them,” I reply coldly, trying my best to resist the urge to hit her over the head with a chair.

  “Well, at least you have one loyal customer for sure. I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t shop anywhere else but your place though, I suppose? Or is she Mason or Kaden’s girlfriend?” she asks, her eyes narrowing on me.

  “I’m not dating any of them,” I reply. “We’re just friends.”

  “Friends?” she asks. She looks at me and Nick, clearly unhappy about something. I can't help but bite.

  “Yeah, me and Nick are best friends though. He's the one who invited me to stay, right, Nicky?” I say sweetly, matching her annoying tone. Nick chokes on his food, and Kaden smacks him on the back, barely containing his laughter.

  “We’re friends,” Nick finally says after I give him a pointed look.

  “Nicky?” Tiffany questions, narrowing her eyes at me.

  “Yeah, just my special nickname for him. We’re just that close I guess,” I say with a shrug. Having noticed earlier that she only calls him Nikolas I can’t help but feel a little superior, knowing that only those close to him call him Nick. Kaden’s smile widens, and even Mason starts to grin.
Callan however, is still looking ready to stake a vampire. I sure as hell wouldn’t mind sharpening a few stakes myself.

  “Huh, I’m surprised,” she says.

  “About what?” I ask.

  “That you’re close. I mean he hasn’t mentioned you at all,” she answers in her patronising voice.

  “I guess he didn’t feel like you were someone I’d want to be friends with, so no reason to mention me,” I reply.

  “Why would he think that?”

  “Maybe it's the fact that Buffy The Vampire Slayer is my favourite show. Speaking of, got any stakes handy anyone?” I joke, only slightly serious. Or maybe I’m only slightly joking.

  “Yeah, because I haven’t heard that one before,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “Funny you mention stakes, maybe you’d like to be burnt at one?” she asks, her tone light, but her eyes are hard and focused intently on me.

  “Maybe you’d like—”

  “Mona, why don’t you come help me with something?” Mason says softly, cutting me off as he stands.

  “With what?” I snap.

  “With our project,” he replies. Project? His amber eyes are practically glowing from the intense look he is giving me. There’s no project, and I’m so in trouble.

  “Fine,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “Thanks for dinner, Cal. It was great, even if I did end up with a bitter taste in my mouth,” I say, glaring at her as I’m standing to leave with Mason. He practically ushers me out of the room. I feel like I’m being sent to sit on the naughty step.

  “Nice meeting you, Mona. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon,” Tiffany calls after me. I go to turn back and give her a snarky reply, but Mason slips his hand in mine and starts pulling me forward and away from her.

  See her soon? God, I fucking hope not.

  Chapter 8

  So fucking cold. Late January in Scotland is not the time or place to be sitting outside in only jeans and a t-shirt. And yet here I am, freezing my ass off sitting outside in an attempt to avoid Nick. He's been in the worst mood all day, and all the others are out, so it's just me bearing the brunt of his foul mood. He clearly is pissed off about last night with Tiffany, but I just don't see what I did wrong. Clearly, that girl has major issues. I can't see what Nick would see in her, even just for someone to mess around with. I can't help but hate the fact he didn't pick with more taste.