“And so am I,” I say, putting my hand in his. “We just need to take things slow and enjoy the ride, right?”
“Well, I don’t plan to get off this ride anytime soon,” he says.
“Neither do I.”
CHAPTER 19
When my phone updates, I see that we had arrived at the restaurant only a bit before midnight. So, by the time we finish our entrees, we are almost the only people left in the restaurant.
“Should we go?” I ask. “I don’t want to make the staff stay late just for us.”
“People in Europe stay out later than most Americans,” Damon says, stretching. I look around and see that he is probably right about that. The musician is still playing, there are still people walking around, and the gondoliers are still singing.
“This is such a magical place,” I say, the wine making my head swim a bit. “I always wanted to visit Italy, but I never imagined just how different it would be. It’s not like being on Earth at all. It’s like stepping into a fantasy novel.”
“I’m glad you are enjoying yourself,” he says. “How about dessert?” He snaps his fingers and a waiter rushes over with a dessert menu. I pull my phone out and open Google translate so I can order for myself. Everything looks so decadent. Hazelnut panna cotta with chocolate ganache. Ricotta and cinnamon trifle with salted amaretto. Torta di riso with cherries. Hazelnut meringue cake with lime curd, peach, and mango. Honey and thyme panna cotta with campari and rhubarb granita. I almost settle on a tiramisu, something familiar, but then I decide I should get something I can’t get at Jumpin’ Beans.
“How about the semifreddo with gianduja?” I must butcher the pronunciation as Damon and the waiter both laugh and then Damon clarifies what I was trying to say. I close the menu to hand it to the waiter when I catch the name of the restaurant on the front. Il Piatto del Demone. The Demon’s Plate.
My stomach sinks. I look around and notice the diabolical décor. Everything is black and white with deep, blood-red accents. There are wicked-looking little gargoyles on the columns. The plates have what looks like ancient scribble around the edges. I’m on a date with a demon. A real demon. This isn’t a joke. No one knows where I am. Damon might not be able to possess and torture me, but I have put myself in a very dangerous position. I could vanish tonight and no one would ever know what happened to me. My daughter could wake up an orphan. I actually throw up in my mouth a little at the thought.
“Tamzin?” Damon asks. “What’s wrong?” My terror must be showing on my face.
“I…uh…” I let out an awkward chuckle as the waiter returns with our dessert, which looks amazing. A slice of a light and fluffy mouse topped with hazelnut ganache and chopped hazelnuts. I pick up my fork, but I’m just too nauseous to dig in.
“Did I do something wrong?” Damon asks.
“No,” I say quickly. “It’s just… I’m on a date with a demon.”
Damon nods. “You knew that before now, right?”
“I think it only just now hit me,” I say, putting my fork down. “You’ve told me some of the reasons you enjoy being a demon, and you claim that you don’t really enjoy torturing people, and I want to believe you. But I guess I just want to know more about what it means to be a demon. Do people worship you?”
“Some demons have worshippers,” he says. “I was never really well known enough for that myself. Some people do pray to me, but only because they are trying to go through me to get to the Dark Lord.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think of me like a saint,” he says. “I’m an intercessor for people to reach the big guy.”
“And will you torture people if the big guy asks?”
“It is my job,” he says. “But it doesn’t happen very often. You are the first person I was ordered to torture in a century.”
“But it could happen at any moment, right? Like, we could be having a romantic dinner like this, and you would suddenly need to leave?”
“Well, I could get you home, at least. I’d have a bit of time to get my affairs in order before leaving. But, yes, not a lot of time.”
“And how long could you be gone? Days? Months?” I hesitate before asking, “Years?”
He runs his hand over his jaw. “I suppose that is possible. Some people…some people are possessed for years.”
I sit back in my chair and let out an exhale. I can’t be with someone who might turn around and abandon me for years on end. I take another swig of wine. How stupid can I be? This can’t be happening. I can’t possibly be considering this. I can’t really be getting into a relationship with a demon.
“Hey, Tamzin,” Damon says, reaching across the table to me. I cross my arms so he can’t touch me. “Look, you are getting upset over something that really probably won’t happen. There are a lot of demons out there. Millions of them. And very few humans have the power to summon us. And I could probably, like, switch with someone. Like, have them do the possession for me and I’ll do one for them later or something.”
I have to chuckle at that. Like swapping favors at work. It’s just so…mundane, I have to laugh at it.
“This is just so crazy,” I say, sitting forward again. “I can’t believe I’m really considering this. Doing this. Dating a demon. It’s wild.”