The Demon in Me (9 page)

“No, it definitely hasn’t. There have only been four hosts over the years who could hear me—and none as clearly as you can. Two of them went insane. The other killed himself. You had the privilege of meeting the fourth earlier today. He figured out I was a demon, but he was already crazy to start with.” He was quiet for a moment. “I tried to stop him. But my voice in his head only made him angrier.”

Eden’s eyebrows raised. “You really tried to stop him from killing people?”

“I tried. My influence on him wasn’t going to last long, though.” His voice sobered. “Luckily his death came early.”

“I’d think a demon would be okay with murder and mayhem.”

“Some are; I won’t lie. But the rest of us… well, I think stomping out a human life is a waste.”

She hadn’t believed in demons until today. Well, not outside of the Hollywood ones. And they were all evil. Darrak said he wasn’t. She didn’t exactly have any choice other than accepting what was happening to her at the moment, did she? Until they found the witch who’d cursed Darrak, Eden was stuck having his voice in her head.

From her chest of drawers she grabbed the oversized red T-shirt she wore to bed and quickly slipped it over her head.

“Purple walls and framed movie posters,” he observed. “Interesting choices for a woman of your age. Especially the
Goonies
one.”

Her cheeks heated again. She had framed posters of her favorite movies. All of which seemed to be from the 1980s for some reason.
Goonies
was a very underrated flick. Some people decorated with an eye for chic design. She preferred choosing things that brought back happy memories.

“You’re positive the witch who cursed you is in the area right now?” she asked after a moment, choosing to ignore his comment.

“I know she is. Or she will be.” He hesitated. “But I don’t know exactly where she is or how to find her.”

She thought about that. “It should be fairly simple to find somebody who’s over three hundred years old. Just look for the most dried-up old person in a seniors’ home. She won’t be able to move very fast.”

“She won’t look old. She’s a black witch.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He snorted softly at that. “I keep forgetting you’re new at this. A black witch is one who practices powerful black magic. Even back when she cursed me, she was very vain and would undoubtedly have used some of that magic to keep herself as youthful as possible to go along with her immortality.”

Learn something new every day.
“We’ll find her.”

“You sound very certain.”

“I have to be. I can’t live like this.” She yanked the edge of the T-shirt down as far as possible. She still felt nearly naked. She’d have to buy some full pajamas ASAP. “I can’t have somebody lurking around in my head all the time. We’ll find the witch, we’ll break the curse, and then you’ll go away and leave me alone.”

“It sounds like the best plan I’ve heard for three hundred years.”

“Now I’m going to bed.”

“Lead the way.”

She pulled the covers back and climbed in. “I thought I was exhausted, but now I just hope I can fall asleep.”

“Do you want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

She refrained from rolling her eyes. “I’d prefer silence.”

“I can do that, too.”

She turned off the light, squeezed her eyes shut, and tried her best to forget she was sleeping with a demon.

The demon didn’t say another word.

———

Smooth, warm skin. It felt so good
.

She curled around the firm body next to her, sliding her hands over a muscled male chest and broad shoulders as she slowly woke with a contented sigh.

Her lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes.

“Good morning.” Darrak smiled at her, his face only an inch away from hers.

Her eyes widened.
“You.”

She’d woken in the arms of the demon. He’d taken form again. Full and—by the looks of the rapidly slipping lavender sheets as she scrambled to move away from his embrace—completely
naked
form.

Darrak didn’t seem to have a problem with his current state of undress. He reclined against an overstuffed pillow, casually put his arms behind his head, and raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”

Eden fell right off the side of the bed, but quickly jolted back up to her feet.

She cleared her throat and averted her eyes, then pointed in his general direction. “Don’t you have any clothes?”

“Quite honestly, no I don’t.”

“Cover yourself up!”

“Fine.” There was a rustling sound. “Okay, I’m covered. I had no idea you were such a prude.”

“I’m not a prude.” She glared at him to see he’d pulled the covers up to his waist.

“Sure you are. It’s obvious.”

“Yeah, well. You’re an exhibitionist.”

“Your point?”

She swallowed hard. “You—you were dressed yesterday.”

“True. I’m currently very weak, but I had enough power to conjure those less than adequate clothes.”

“Then conjure some more.”

He studied her for a moment with amusement. “For the last half hour you didn’t seem to be having much of a problem with my current form.”

Her cheeks began to blaze with heat. “You’ve been groping me for a half an hour?”

“More like the other way around. But don’t worry, I didn’t mind.” He gave her a wicked grin.

She turned away from him and went into the bathroom, slammed the door, and locked it. Then she put her back up against it and tried to calm down.

This wasn’t working. Not in any way, shape, or form. Maybe she hadn’t been 100 percent perfect for the nearly thirty years of her life, but what had she done to deserve this?

She hated to sound whiny, but come on! Why her?

Luckily, Darrak didn’t bother her or knock on the door. She decided to take the brief, precious moment of privacy to have a quick shower and wash and blow-dry her hair. When she cracked open the door and peered out, there was no sign of Darrak in bed or elsewhere in her bedroom. She breathed a sigh of relief and tiptoed out to get dressed as quickly as possible in black pants, a form-fitting but practical khaki tank top, and a black jacket.

She picked up the framed picture of her mother from her bookcase and looked down at the beautiful, smiling blond woman.

“This isn’t funny,” she told it firmly. Her mother would have been very amused by this situation. She’d always thought Eden was too uptight for her own good.

Men had fallen at Caroline Riley’s feet all her life. Eden hadn’t inherited her easy, breezy way with men at all. Even Andy had been head over heels in love with her mother. That was probably what had made it so easy for her to take him for half his business in the poker game.

She put the thoughts of her mother out of her head and left the bedroom. Her rented apartment was very small, and her bedroom was only a few steps away from the living room. The kitchenette was open concept and looked out at the living room over a breakfast bar.

Darrak, now clad in the same simple, magically conjured black outfit he’d had on yesterday, was peering into the fridge.

She felt a fresh swell of stress at the sight of him. However, she was happy he wasn’t naked anymore.

“Coffee?” he asked.

She crossed her arms tightly and glanced at the coffeemaker. “You know how to make coffee?”

“I’ve been a keen observer of all things human.”

Yesterday, she’d been way too freaked out to take a really good look at him, but today, in the daylight of her apartment, she’d never guess at first glance that he was a demon made of black smoke. Or second glance, for that matter. He just looked like a man. A tall, attractive one. Drinking coffee out of her favorite Snoopy mug.

Anxiety flowed over her. Coffee wasn’t going to help the situation at all. The cat who’d conned her into letting it stay for the night rubbed against her leg.

Darrak nodded at it. “You don’t seem to have any litter so I shredded some newspaper and put it in a shoe box. I’m very industrious.”

She rubbed her temples. Cats and demons and makeshift litter boxes. Maybe she was still asleep and having a nightmare.

The toaster popped. Darrak grabbed the piece of toast and spread a thick layer of chunky peanut butter on it before taking a large bite.

“Do you know, this is the first thing I’ve tasted in three hundred years?” he asked. “It’s fantastic.”

“I hate peanut butter.”

“Then why do you have it?”

She shrugged. “Because it’s something people are supposed to have in their cupboards.”

“Peanut butter is total ambrosia.”

She grabbed the edge of her counter and squeezed. “Demons can eat?”

“Obviously.”

“Learn something new every day.” Her voice was tight. She glanced around the kitchenette to see the complete mess the demon had made in his quest for breakfast and grimaced.

Despite her questionable décor choices, she was a neat freak.

This was going to be yet another problem.

“We don’t have to eat, but we can,” he said and smiled at her. A glob of peanut butter fell off his piece of toast and splatted onto the floor. “Just like other things, it’s more for pleasure than necessity.”

Her cheeks burned again. “Just to make things perfectly clear between us, you can have my peanut butter, but my bed is off-limits.”

He shrugged. “Sorry. I took form at sunrise and you grabbed on to me immediately. I didn’t want to disturb your sleep or I would have moved.”

She was about to debate the sheer unlikeliness of that when the cat rubbed against her leg again.

“So that’s two unwanted guests I have to deal with,” she said. “Great.”

Darrak leaned back against the counter and took a sip from the coffee mug. “Other than the litter situation, I also fed your furry friend already and put down some water for her. You’re welcome.”

“Come on, kitty,” Eden said, leaning over to grab the cat. “This hotel is officially overbooked. You’re out of here.”

The cat hissed at her, slipped out of her grip, and ran into the bedroom.

“Terrific.” She sighed with frustration and looked at the clock. Her eyes bugged. “Is that really the time?”

She hadn’t noticed it was nearly nine o’clock. Was she that distracted?

Well, yes, she was. Most definitely.

“No time for coffee?”

“My job is right next to a coffee bar. I think I’ll manage.”

“Come on, Eden. Turn that frown upside down. There’s no reason for bad moods. It’s a beautiful new day full of possibilities.”

“Maybe for you.” Eden turned toward the door. She grabbed her light coat from the closet and left the apartment. Before she could fit her key into the door to lock it, Darrak opened it and was at her side.

“Don’t forget, I have to come with you.”

For a moment she
had
forgotten that they were currently a two-for-one deal. How was she supposed to function like this? She locked the door behind her. “How close do we have to stay to each other?”

“I have no idea.” He crammed the rest of the peanut butter on toast in his mouth and swallowed a mouthful of coffee from the mug he still held.

How could he be so blasé about something so important? If he had to follow her everywhere, then she wanted to know how close he had to be. She needed her space.

She walked down the hall to the elevator and pressed the button. A moment later it opened and she got in.

Darrak looked over his shoulder at the locked door of her apartment. “I need to put your mug back.”

“No time.”

“Okay, but if you—”

The doors on the elevator closed before he had a chance to get in. Eden jabbed at the ground floor button. She heard Darrak yell her name, and a bang as he pounded on the elevator door, and then a crash.

Had he dropped her Snoopy mug?

The elevator began to descend slowly and she stifled the immediate feeling of guilt that swelled inside of her.

She wanted to see how far apart they could be. The opportunity had just presented itself nicely.

By the eighth floor she began to feel a bit light-headed. She brought a hand to her forehead and inhaled shakily. She didn’t remember feeling that way when Darrak tried to walk out of the office yesterday.

The impromptu experiment was working.

Six floors at approximately ten feet per floor? That was sixty feet.

Seventy feet.

Eighty.

A sharp pain wrenched through her stomach. She doubled over and staggered back until she hit the wall of the elevator. A moment later, thick black smoke slithered in through the crack at the top of the elevator door. It moved to pool on the floor, then slowly took form.

Just before the doors opened on ground level, Darrak had fully rematerialized. He crouched on the floor at her feet, his chest heaving. Sweat beaded his forehead. His current expression was anything but that of the pleasant and amiable Darrak she’d begun to expect. In fact, he looked furious.

She’d wanted to see what would happen—to test their boundaries and perhaps find out that they didn’t actually have any, but now the guilt returned to replace the pain that she’d felt before.

“Don’t do that again,” he said darkly.
“Please.”

She swallowed hard. Well, at least he said please.

“I just wanted to see if we could—”

He rose to his feet, grabbed her upper arms firmly, and pushed her up against the mirrored elevator wall. In human form, he was very tall. And big. And strong. She suddenly felt extremely intimidated by him—especially by that angry look in his blue eyes that for a split second she swore changed to a strange, flickering amber.

“You want to get rid of me.” Despite the fiery look in his gaze, the words were as sharp and cold as icicles. “I get it. We both want that. Do you think I want to put up with you every hour of the day, either? Think again. But right now we can’t do anything but try to make this work.”

“Let go of me.”

“First I want to make sure you understand me.” His eyes narrowed. “And just so you know, being forced to lose form like that hurts like hell. And I know what Hell feels like.”

“I understand,” she said through clenched teeth, before her own swell of anger faded. She’d only wanted to test a theory, not cause him any more pain. “I felt something unpleasant this time, too.”