Page 5 of A Date With Demons

The word registers hate. I growl. “Human?”

“I’m a succubus. I make deals with humans in need. Well, I used to. When I was allowed to run amok. My number hasn’t been called up yet under the new rules, but I’m ready to get out of this hell hole, pun intended.”

That word, succubus, puts another thought into my head. He is built for something else entirely.

The thoughts and memories grow slower still, and I’m able to pick out answers to some of my questions.

Bragg is built for sex. Of course he is. Look at him. The thought of him pleasuring a silly, soft human makes my cock jerk unexpectedly, bumping into his.

He laughs softly. “Careful with that thing, cowboy. You don’t want to go and get all obsessed with me. I will suck the will to live out of you. And I kinda like having someone to talk to.”

I drag my snout over the cords on the opposite side of Bragg’s throat. His blood scent calls to me, and I am hungry.

“I s’pose a little foreplay is fine,” he says, breath hitching. I’ve struck something inside him, as this is the first time he seemed less sure of himself since we met a moment ago. “We have all eternity to get to know each other.”

He’s a trickster, but I like him. I will keep him.

I concentrate so hard to parse his words that I don’t hear the approaching footsteps of a guard demon.

“Bragg!”

I freeze at the sound. The voice speaks again. “It’s your lucky day. You’ve been summoned.”

Summoned. He’s…leaving me alone.

I only just arrived, and I don’t know what it is that I’m meant to do here.

I may not survive Bragg’s absence. This life, or half-life, would be unbearable without him.

I swallow. “Are you coming back?”

I don’t like the way I sound when I say this. I sound so small. Needy. Not at all terrifying, which I thought was my default setting.

Bragg rolls me off of him and stands to face the guard on the other side of the bars. I sit up, watching him go.

The succubus looks at me over his shoulder, his golden eyes glowing with mischief as he seems to read my mind.

“Don’t worry, big guy. You’re coming, too.”

And he holds out his hand to me.

Chapter

Four

Portia

This giftof remote seeing can get annoying.

I haven’t learned to control my ability to pick up on people’s energy around me, which sometimes makes me want to retreat from society.

And all that psychic noise makes it extra hard to concentrate on seeing what’s happening far away.

Like right now, I don’t only see happy couples everywhere—taking selfies, walking hand in hand through the leaves, sharing pumpkin ice cream—as I march back to my dad’s truck. I can feel them.

And it’s breaking my heart.

Not because I want to fall in love. All I wanted was one single fun date and some hanky panky after the house party. See what a weirdo I am? No wonder no one wants to mess with me—no one calls sex “hanky panky.”

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