Page 11 of Gift for a Demon

Melchom had a feeling he’d chosen a good name. “I’ll explain more when it’s time, don’t worry.” He winked, relishing the return of those waves of fear wafting out of the human. “For now, though, get some rest. I’ll join you shortly.”

“Rest?” Dove frowned. “I’m not going to bed.”

“Are you sure about that?” Melchom crowded him easily, forcing Dove to take steps back until his thighs hit the mattress.

The human’s light brown eyes widened, specks of gold visible in them. Melchom imagined they’d look even more stunning while reflecting orange flames and their eternal sparks.

“I…” His chin wobbled. Melchom didn’t get inside his head; he had the feeling he’d get more enjoyment out of seeing it unfold live. “I never sleep when I’m having an episode. T-that’s not a thing. It’s… It’s not.”

So this was what it took.

“Go to bed, human.”

“N-no.”

Unable to resist the temptation of the human’s mind, Melchom took a glimpse inside. The house of mirrors spun around, random items starting to trickle down from the walls that opened as it gave a 360 spin. By the time it was in its original position, the sky was filled with more flying objects and images than it had been before—memories of doctor’s offices, of priests and adults talking about him or over him; a few friends, too, but those seemed to flutter away when the human tried to focus on them.

Outside of his mind, Dove was sitting down on Melchom’s bed, curled up with his arms hugging his knees. He was shaking his head, cradling himself for comfort while silent tears ran down his cheeks. He kept repeating that word. No.

Melchom felt strangely conflicted. Everything emanating off the boy made him salivate, want to devour it all. For the first time, though, he saw the wreckage in the human’s mind, the severity of it—one that he hadn’t slowly, safely, caused to ensure the human would last. It was strange.

He dismissed it.

It had been a long day, after all.

Without touching him—that would be way too tempting—Melchom nudged Dove so he was lying down against the bedcovers.

“Sleep,” he commanded.

CHAPTER 3

DAVE

Dave was alone, and it felt strange. He never thought of himself fully alone—either because his head wouldn’t stop spinning from one thing to another, or because he’d purposefully surrounded himself by people. It had always been his safest coping mechanism.

He blinked.

He was on top of a bed, but he wasn’t cold. That might be even weirder. It took a while for all the memories to come back to him and start making sense.

Hell.

Minions’ voices.

Melchom.

The fixation with his name.

The new name.

Falling asleep against his will because the demon’s voice had just shut down his brain.

The realization that it was all real, not an episode or his brain going completely haywire.

Before the thought could sink him down again, Dave sat up, eyes scanning for a threat. There was no one in the room—not that it meant a whole lot. No one had been in the cell either, yet all the voices had been bombarding him.

Oddly, he couldn’t hear them now.

Tentatively, he slid out of the large bed. He thought maybe his feet would burn the second he touched the stone floor, but it didn’t happen. The smell of sulfur was less potent in the room, too, but it was still there, making him scratch his nose.

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