Page 8 of Gift for a Demon

The trick was catching which mirror glinted the brightest when something new happened: that was the mirror that revealed the most recent thought that was crossing his mind.

When he found it, he thought his human would be thinking about the blue and orange flames. Maybe he’d be considering if he should try kicking or scratching, or ways to run away.

No, apparently his mind was worried about his dress and what Melchom would be thinking of it.

There was a flashback to his father. Melchom grunted. They didn’t seem to have a good relationship—although it was good enough to name his son after the king of Israel. Learning they didn’t have a good relationship was disappointing, though. A big thrill of grabbing humans with that moniker was punishing the parents for worshipping such a figure.

He’d have to make do, though. The human had been a gift, after all, and he had to eat.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not that heavy.”

“Huh?”

“You grunted.” His human shrugged. “Is your place that far away? I thought demons would just teleport themselves, or… fly, maybe?”

Melchom huffed. “How do you suppose we could fly?”

No, that wasn’t a sore subject at all.

“Uh, with… Oh.” The human must’ve noticed the nubs in his back—he really was like a cat, climbing and sneaking around his hold. Melchom thought he’d done a good job covering them with tattoos of bleeding foliage, but it was obviously not a miracle solution. “Never mind.”

At least that would shut him up. They weren’t that far from Melchom’s chambers, anyway. Only a couple more turns.

He’d clearly wished for things too fast. As he was taking the last turn, his human squealed, trying to hide within Melchom.

“What is it?” he almost growled.

Of course, the human didn’t answer, so Melchom slid into his head.

There was nothing to see, other than that addicting fear, marred only by the fact that Melchom wasn’t the one to cause it this time.

There was a lingering echo, though.

High pitched.

Melchom started walking faster. He’d already known the minions would be messing with the human’s head—it was too tempting not to—but he was not going to let it slide if they were doing so behind his back.

The moment the gates to his chamber opened, Melchom breathed easier. He supposed the human would think him a bit of a hoarder, but being around his things was… soothing.

As former King and current paymaster of the realm, he’d held on to one of the biggest chambers, one he’d decorated with all kinds of luxuries.

The things he considered luxuries. Melchom didn’t feel apologetic about sliding inside the human’s head again, curious to see what the sneaky thing would think upon seeing the shelves filled with trinkets and weapons encrusted with rubies and emeralds. Some of them were bathed in gold, too, but those were only decorative—old presents he had been offered back when he’d had power in exchange for his protection or mercy.

Of course, the human was enthralled by those, his mind making a list of all the “sparkly things,” as he called them. Apparently, it didn’t scare him that even the decorative weapons could cause him a lot of damage. Or perhaps they would have if his attention hadn’t shifted way too quickly to the bed in the center of the big room.

Interesting, Melchom noted, following the almost colluding trails of thoughts through that delicious house of mirrors that now belonged to him.

Dread filled the human as he considered what could happen in that bed. The emotion was soon replaced with a strange sense of relief—or was it contentment? There was some thinking about how at least it looked like it had a high thread count so he’d die comfortable.

Melchom snorted. The human kept thinking that he’d be dying tonight.

“What?” the human asked, pushing away from his chest.

He must’ve finally noticed there were no flames inside of the room. Melchom had considered it once—they were aesthetically pleasing—but he’d dismissed the idea eventually. They were a lot of work to maintain, especially because he’d have to shield most of his collection.

Shaking that thought off, Melchom decided to set the human free and see what he’d do.

The answer was nothing. The human just stood there, glaring up at Melchom with his arms crossed. He thought the look would be intimidating, which would be endearing, if Melchom didn’t need other questions answered first.

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