Demon at My Door (11 page)

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Authors: Michelle A. Valentine

BOOK: Demon at My Door
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Shielding my eyes is no longer enough. My head drops to my knees and I shove my index fingers into my ears. A panic attack starts to hit me hard. There has to be a way out of this deal. I just need to find it before it’s too late. 

A smooth circling motion on my back soothes me—Rick’s hand. When I don’t look up after a couple of minutes, he takes my hand in his and guides me to an upright position before rushing me out of the theater. 

My body relaxes instantly once we’re in the cool hallway of the building and I drop my hands loosely at my sides and open my eyes.

"Hey? You okay?” he asks, concern written all over his face.

My lips pull down into a frown. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known better. Demons sort of freak me out.”

He nods, making me feel like he doesn’t need any additional explanation, which is great because I’m definitely not ready to share that part of me yet. “Come on. Let’s get your mind off this.”

Gladly, I follow Rick through the doors into the mall’s brightly lit atrium. This is the same food court Alicia and I were at earlier. The mall buzzes with other people trying to entertain themselves on a Saturday night.

I wrap my arms around my body, now hyper-aware I’m not in my comfortable all black-invisible ensemble that usually helps me disappear from the rest of the world. Numbly, I walk beside Rick down the heart of the food court and take in the scenery. I’m instantly angered when my eyes land on Stew. He’s at the table claimed by a crowd of people I recognize from campus with Trevor Humphreys and Taylor Gee on either side of him.

Assholes.

Stew looks up from his sandwich and meets my narrowed stare. Nausea fills my belly. I thought he felt something for me, but after last night, I know different. 

I take Rick’s hand in an outward show of affection and hope Stew notices I’m moving on. 

Oh man, does he notice. Stew’s jaw drops, nearly smacking the table, and I feel a flutter of smug satisfaction.

Take that Stewart!

Rick looks down at me and smiles. I give his hand a little squeeze as we near the table. His skin against mine is warm and reassuring. The closer we get to the tables, the more I notice all the pointing in our direction. Trevor quickly turns his bruised face away from us, like he doesn’t want to chance another fight with Rick. Stew, on the other hand, has now recovered from shock and looks pissed. He crushes the soda can that’s in his hand while he locks eyes with me. 

What gives him the right to be mad at me?

As we pass, Taylor, of all people, greets us. “Hey, Rick. Hey, Natalie.”

Rick gazes down at me and gauges my reaction before he makes the decision it’s okay to stop at the table. After I shrug my shoulders, he answers her casually. “Hey, Taylor.”

Her smile stretches from ear to ear, like she’s glad he knows her name. “What are you guys up to?” She glances down at our hands and wears a mischievous grin. 

Rick shrugs. “Nothing, really. Just watched a movie. Now, we’re trying to find something to do next.”

Stew’s jaw muscle flexes as he watches us from the table. 

Her eyes light up like they always do when she thinks she’s digging up rumors to spread about someone. “Oooh. What movie did you see?”

“Demon Rising,” Rick answers. 

Stew’s brow furrows and he glares only at me. “But Nat hates demon stuff.”

Everyone at the table stares at Stew with puzzled looks. They’re all probably curious how Stew knows that personal detail about me. 

I can only think of revenge when I look at Stew. Before I realize it, I blurt out, “People change. And well, I like
new things
now.” For added effect, I lean my head on Rick’s shoulder. Hopefully that stings him a little, knowing I’m with Rick. 

Stew shakes his head in disgust and rises from his seat. “Whatever. I’m fucking out of here,” he grumbles, before he turns to walk away.

Taylor sees her opportunity to get Stew alone and quickly chases after him. She doesn’t even tell us goodbye. “Wait up, Stew!” 

Those two stuck-ups belong together.

I know I’ve hurt Stew but good riddance to that asshole. What gives him the idea that he has any right to control me? He doesn’t care about me. Never did, apparently. I’m just aggravated I let myself get involved with him in the first place. I should’ve known better. We’re nothing alike. 

The rest of the people at the table ignore us as soon as Taylor and Stew leave, so Rick and I continue walking hand in hand away from the food court. Satisfaction flows through my veins as we step into a little pet shop. I’m still on the revenge high. 

“Wow,” Rick whispers. “I’m sorry to bring Stew up again, but it looks like you guys had an intense relationship. Are you sure it’s over? He looked pretty pissed.”

Rick should know, I guess, since we are kind of dating now. It’s only fair to be honest about past relationships. “You’re right. We
were
something, once, but Stew refused to tell anyone we were together, like he was ashamed of me or something.”

Rick pulls me into a tight hug against his chest. The heat from his body radiates off him.  Warmth spreads through me, like being wrapped in sunshine. “I figured it was something like that,” he whispers in my ear.  

Muscles throughout my body relaxes as I snuggle into his chest. It feels good to be close to someone who cares about me even if it’s just a friend. Rick makes me feel safe. “How did you figure it out?”

His breaths are even and steady as he strokes my hair. “I’m kind of good at reading people, so I just knew. I’m glad I got to you before you got too serious with him.”

I sigh. “Don’t worry. Like I told you before, that’s over.” And I meant it. It was over. The feelings I had for Stew weren’t the same anymore. I could handle being ignored, but being set up for major embarrassment was crossing the line. You don’t do that to someone you claim to have feelings for. 

I hug Rick tighter. He’s my only friend in the whole world now and I cling to him like he’s my life raft—the one thing keeping me a float in normalcy in this demon madness. It’s probably not right to lead him on this way, but I need this closeness. 

“Why are we in a pet shop, anyway?” I murmur against his chest.

He laughs. “Don’t you like animals? I thought all girls liked puppies.”

I shrug, thinking of how Mom never allowed us to have any pets before Rick pulls me down an aisle. We laugh as we pet the exotic birds through the cage wires and try to get them to cuss. Then we move on to admire the puppies behind the glass. Their little, wet noses press against the glass as they attempt to lick us.

“They’re so cute.” I actually cooed. First pink, now puppies? Who am I?

“Yeah, they are, but you want to know my favorite?”

A smile presses my cheeks upward at the thought of the cussing parrots. “The birds?” 

“Nope. Snakes.”

“Snakes?” He nods, and a shiver escapes down my spine. Snakes represent evil, or at least that’s what I was always told in Sunday school when I was a kid. 

“Let’s go look.” He nudges me down the aisle.

They keep the creepy, legless creatures in the very back of the store. When Rick asks one of the workers to get the slimy, gray snake, I take a step back. I hadn’t noticed, until this moment, I’m a definite snake hater.

The store employee brings out the creature all tangled up on his hand. The snake’s tongue flicks in and out as it surveys its environment. 

Rick takes the snake. It slithers through his fingers like they’re a maze. “Nat, don’t be scared. They aren’t bad. Just because something seems scary doesn’t mean it will actually hurt you.”

When I take another step back, goose pimples freeze on my skin. The snake wraps its body around his arm and Rick strokes its scaly skin. 

“It’s just a little snake,” he prompts. “Come on. Pet him.”

How the hell does he know it’s a boy? “Him?”

“Sure, pet Lucifer.” Okay his evil obsession is creepy. How can I possibly fall for a guy who likes evil and runs toward it while I rack my brain to be free of it?

My eyebrows draw down with confusion. “Lucifer?” I swallow down the nervous lump that’s building in my throat. “As in the devil?”  

He smirks, like that should be obvious. “Yep, one in the same. You don’t know the bible story about Lucifer becoming a snake?”

My lips are suddenly dry, and I wet them carefully before answering, “Who hasn’t?” At the mention of evil, my heart thuds. Throughout my years of study, I’ve learned Lucifer is the King Demon. The boy demon told me once that’s who he works for, collecting souls, and one day I will too after he transitions my soul. 

I can’t seriously continue to date Rick if he truly is obsessed with demons. “I know you like reading about demons and stuff, but can you cool it with all the evil talk?”

He tilts his head to the side and continues to stare—almost mesmerized—by the snake. 

What the hell? Is he a freaking Slytherin snake whisperer? The pet shop door swings open, and for a second, I debate on running out of it. It’s not too late to run away from him and go back to being the old me, blocking everyone out again.  

“Why does demon talk freak you out?” he asks without his gaze leaving the snake.

I grimace at the thought of explaining my emotional traumas to a guy I might want to become romantically involved with. I practically spilled my guts to Stew, and look where that got me. So instead, I decide for the evasive approach. “It’s a long story.”

Rick motions for the pet shop worker to untangle the snake from his wrist. Once it’s gone, he turns those powerful charcoal eyes on me. “Nat, I’ve got nothing but time. I want to know everything about you. Let me get to know you. Let me into that beautiful brain of yours.”

Some things make life so much easier if you can keep them secret. He’s already heard the ‘she’s crazy’ rumors and hasn’t run away from me. No one, except Stew, knows why I see a shrink. If I tell him everything, I might push him away. But then again since he likes demon stuff, maybe he’ll believe me. He might even know a way to win my soul back. At this point I’m willing to try anything.  

His eyes are fixed on me while I debate the situation internally. He’s waiting. 

With a sigh, I figure what the hell. What’s the worst he can do? Ignore me like everyone else. “Okay, but can we go somewhere more private? It’s not something I want to share with the entire world.”

Like I’m a flower ready to crumble at any second, he gently takes my hand. I quickly realize we’re headed to his car. Once we reach it, in what’s becoming a routine lately, I swiftly slide my body against the cool leather of his seats. 

When Rick’s seated in the driver’s seat, he turns expectantly to me. “Okay, we’re alone now. Talk to me. Please?”

“Well…” I manage to choke out. Fear grips me as I get ready to reveal a huge secret about myself to this guy. “It started when I was five…” I trail off and doubt if I should say anything else. It’s still not too late to keep my secret. 

“Come on, Nat.” His fingers trail across my cheek, and I my skin tingles from his touch. “Talk to me. You can tell me anything.”

After a deep breath, I convince myself that if I’m going to date Rick, he needs to know. He has the right to know that the little demon may try to kill him for being with me. He deserves to make his own choice to hang out with me after he knows the truth. I continue, “When I was five, my mom and I were alone in our house eating lunch, and she started choking on a piece of hotdog. And well, she died.”

Rick contorts his face in confusion. “But, she’s fine. I mean, I just met your mom.”

“Only because I made a deal with a little demon boy to save her,” I say defensively and automatically regret my tone. This is not some shrink I need to defend myself against. This is Rick. Someone I want to know the truth about me, and believe it. 

His eyebrows bunch over his eyes. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Are you trying to tell me you made a deal with a demon for your soul?”

“Yes,” I whisper. My heart pounds as I wait on his response. I knew I shouldn’t have told him. Gah. When will I learn to keep my secrets to myself? 

We sit in silence for a few minutes before he speaks. “How do you know the deal you made was a bad one? I mean, you’re still here—alive—and still you. And your mom is still alive.”

What the hell? He’s seriously not running away in fear that my craziness will rub off on him? In fact, I think he might actually believe me. Either that or he’s going along with it so I don’t flip out on him. 

I scratch my head. “Oh, I don’t know, because he was a
demon
! No deal with a demon is good.”

His face tells me he’s stunned, yet curious at the same time. “Tell me everything. I want to try to understand.” So I do. I tell him all about my life—how the demon randomly appears as a little boy. How he takes every persons soul who shakes his hand—everyone’s except mine and how I’ve been trying to kill the little bastard to get it back ever since. 

“You know, I’ve read a lot about demons,” Rick says after a couple moments of silence. “Maybe he wasn’t evil or at least he might not have been there to hurt you. Did you ever think of that?”

“No it’s worse. He wants me to be his demon counterpart.” I shake my head. He doesn’t understand the complexity of the situation here. It doesn’t matter if the demon didn’t hurt me then. He wants to make me his evil sidekick for eternity, and that seems worse than dying. The little demon wants to make me a killer like him. “What part of my soul is damned do you not get?”

He shrugs. “Maybe it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.” Frustrated, I throw my head back against the headrest and close my eyes. “Let’s stop talking about this.”

“Why?”

I sigh and turn my head to look at him. “Because I hate thinking about it, plus I made a deal with myself to only discuss it with my shrink.”

He grimaces. “Your shrink?”

I nod. “Crazy, remember? I’m, like, certifiable.” 

Rick reaches out and takes my hand. “I don’t think you’re crazy.” 

When I look at him, his face is determined, like he needs me to believe him. “Yeah, right,” I say. He shakes his head at my reaction. “You’re only saying that because you’re just as crazy about demons as me. Just in another way.”

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