Page 35 of My Blind Date is a Demon

“That is obvious,” Damon says, taking another sip of his whisky.

I take a drink of water. “That must suck, that demons can’t get drunk. Why bother drinking, then?”

Damon shrugs. “I still enjoy the taste. The burn as it slides down my throat.”

“Here you go,” Rachel says, bringing our food out. She places a huge steak in front of me with a side of mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli, and a side salad.

“Did I order this?” I ask. I don’t usually eat that much meat, and I never order steak. It’s just not one of my favorite foods.

“You asked for the special,” Rachel says. “This is it. I told you what it was.”

“Right, sorry,” I say, though I clearly had not been listening to her. “I think I’ve just had too much to drink already.”

“Honey, you’re only just getting started. But let me bring you something a little less potent.”

“Thanks,” I say, unfolding my napkin. At least there is a salad and vegetables. Though, I do need something to soak up the alcohol. I decide to cut up the steak and put it on the salad.

“So,” I say to Damon, “what do you do when you aren’t being a demon?”

“I’m an art and antiquities dealer out of Milan,” he says.

I nearly choke on my steak. “Are you serious?” I ask when I finish coughing.

“Yes. Why does that surprise you?”

“I guess I just didn’t imagine you doing anything specific,” I say. “I thought you’d been running around causing havoc or just lounging on a beach.”

“I do travel and explore,” he says. “I have a house here in Mystic Cove as well. Another one in Haiti and one in Nice, France. The fact that I can look like anyone and speak all human languages gives me a large advantage in my trade.”

“But why bother with a trade at all? I assume you don’t need money.”

“True, I don’t just work for money. But work feeds the soul. It gives me a sense of purpose, of fulfillment. It is exciting to find just the right item for just the right person.”

“Wait,” I say. “Are you… You aren’t Jamal Jefferson, are you?”

Damon opens his hands and gives me a big smile. “You figured it out. You are more clever than I give you credit for.”

Jamal Jefferson owns a large antique store here in Mystic Cove. I’ve met him a couple of times, but he usually leaves the shop in the hands of his assistant, Katrina Bliss, while he’s off scouting new items for the shop. I don’t own a lot of antiques, but I find that looking at them often gives me ideas for my designs for my clients, so I go browse whenever I need a hit of inspiration.

“Now that I say it, I see it,” I say as Rachel brings me my next drink, a cosmopolitan. “You and Jamal could be, like, half-brothers or something. His skin is a bit lighter, and he looks younger, wears his hair differently. But I can see the similarities.”

“Younger?” Damon asks, feigning offense. “Hmm. Would you rather be on a date with him?”

I laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m quite enjoying my date with Damon.”

I can’t believe I just said those words. I’m about to apologize when Damon places his hand on mine.

“I’m quite enjoying my date with Tamzin, too.”

My heart flutters and I recognize this feeling. I haven’t felt it in a long time, but it’s something you never forget. The thrill of knowing the person you have a crush on feels the same way. That first look, first touch, the anticipation of the first kiss.

But I can’t feel those things for Damon. Despite the handsome, debonaire man I see in front of me, he’s an evil monster, isn’t he? He was sent here to torture me. I have to be wary. I have to protect myself and my daughter. I can’t let this thing infiltrate my life. What if it’s all an act? What if Bella never really captured him at all? What if this was his plan all along? To get close to me just so he can turn on me and ruin my life?

I pull my hand away and shake my hand. “So, have you ever been married to a human before? Do you have half-demon children running around? Oh, wouldn’t that be…umm… What are they called in the Bible? Nephilim?”

Damon lets out an annoyed sigh and goes back to his food. “That’s just a myth. Demons can’t have children with humans. As for marriage, no, I’ve never been married. I’ve had plenty of paramours over the centuries, women I could say I’ve loved, but never anything that lasted more than a decade or two.”

“That’s still a long time in human years,” I say somberly. “That’s about how long I had with Mark, a decade. And it felt…like a lifetime.” I can feel the tears welling up again at just the thought of him. But I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to ruin this night, the fun I was having.

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