Page 15 of My Blind Date is a Demon

“Don’t touch that!” I say more loudly than I meant to. Still, I storm over to Damon and take the frame from his hand. Damon seems surprised at my anger. I practically push him out of the way as I put the picture back on the mantle.

“Sorry,” Damon says. “I was just looking.”

“Look with your eyes, not your hands,” I say. “Unless… Well, maybe you do have eyes in your hands in your natural form.”

Damon chuckles. “I was just noticing that you have many pictures of this man, but I don’t see him here.”

“No,” I say, straightening the frame. “He’s gone.”

“But not divorced,” he says, more to himself than to me. “Otherwise, his pictures would not hold such pride of place. Your man is dead.”

I feel a lump rise in my throat. It has been a long time since someone has stated that fact to me so plainly. I have to turn away from Damon so he does not see the tears forming in my eyes. I clear my throat.

“Yeah. A long time ago.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

I am surprised by his words. “What? Why?” I ask, turning back to look at him.

“His death brings you great pain,” he says. “You have my sympathy.”

“No,” I say, confused. “Why are you sorry. Why are you sympathizing with me? You are a demon. Don’t you, like, rejoice at my pain.”

He shakes his head and returns to his chair. “You lack understanding of my kind. I might do things you would consider bad or evil as my job, but that does not mean I am an evil person. Your pain does not bring me joy.”

I shake my head. “I don’t understand. If you had possessed me, tortured me, would you not have enjoyed causing me pain?”

He shrugs. “Perhaps some aspects of it. But I did not choose this life, this job. I was created for it. It…it is rather complicated to explain to a human.”

“I suppose it is,” I say. I then realize how tired I am. I check my watch and see it is well past Bella’s bedtime. “I need to put my daughter to bed and then try to get some sleep myself. Come on, I’ll show you to the guest room.”

“I don’t sleep,” he says.

“Oh, well, follow me anyway. I have no idea how long you are going to be here. It would be better if you had a space of your own to retreat to instead of just hanging out here in the living room.”

“Space does not mean the same thing to me as it does to you,” Damon says. Then he dissolves back into smoke and floats back into the cookie jar. I open the lid and look inside. I see he is a very tiny version of himself. He waves at me, and I wave back.

“Are you sure you are going to be okay in there?” I ask.

Damon snaps his finger and a little bedroom appears, complete with a flat-screen TV, magazines, and a bed. He kicks off his shoes and jumps on the bed, opening a magazine to read.

“Okay, good night, Damon.”

“Good night, Tamzin,” he says, his voice sounding normal despite his diminutive size.

I put the lid on the cookie jar and place it on the counter. I’m halfway up the stairs, Dash at my heels, when I feel…an urgency. I can’t leave the jar downstairs. I need it with me. I go back, grab the jar, and take it upstairs with me. I put it on my dresser and then go check on Bella.

Bella has already fallen asleep, her bedside lamp still on and a book on her lap. Mr. Darcy is curled up on her bed.

“Silly girl,” I whisper as I put Bella under her covers and turn off the light. She’s still wearing her clothes instead of her pajamas, but I don’t want to wake her all the way up by making her change, so I just let her sleep in her clothes. It’s been a crazy day. I wonder how she is sleeping so soundly when there is a demon in the house. But she didn’t seem unnerved by him at all. Oh, to have the innocence of a child.

I retreat to my room, putting my phone on its charger. Then I go to my bathroom for my nighttime routine. When I get to my medications, I hesitate. I usually take a sleeping pill. I absolutely cannot sleep without it. But there is a demon in my house. Yeah, he doesn’t seem dangerous at the moment, but can I really trust a demon? I don’t know. I feel like I need to be alert in case of an emergency. But if I don’t sleep, I know I will be miserable tomorrow. I settle on half a pill. Hopefully it will be enough to get to me to sleep, but not so soundly that I won’t wake up if there is an emergency.

I change into my pajamas and sit on the edge of my bed, looking at the cookie jar. It feels so weird to have him there. Can he see me? Can he hear me?

“D…Damon?” I call out softly.

“Yes?” he asks.

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