Page 9 of A Date With Demons

“Look what we have here, Rewd,”I say, my gaze trained on the petite blonde witch with plump little breasts and an hourglass figure. “She smells like peaches, ripe for plucking.”

The little witch has been screaming for minutes, barely stopping to catch her breath.

“What is that noise it makes?” Rewd grumbles.

I turn to my enormous war demon friend. He frowns, his clawed hands covering his ears.

“She’s scared. Humans scream when they’re afraid.”

“I do not like it. Make it stop.”

I shrug. “I agree, it’s not the most conducive. But we can wait her out.”

“It hurts,” Rewd says, screwing up his face.

“She’ll tucker herself out eventually,” I assure him.

My friend doesn’t reply, except for a low, frustrated growl deep in his chest.

Finally, the screaming stops, and the little witch sucks in a ragged breath. “Why,” she rasps between breaths, “…are there two of you?”

Her body trembles. I can smell the terror in her blood. In her very breath.

I take one step closer, and the witch recoils.

Pausing, I go for nonchalance. “It happens sometimes.”

Rewd remains stiff and anxious. At this rate, I’ll have to sedate both of them.

“This is too much,” the witch says, shaking her head vigorously. “Go back. Go back to where you came from. This is not what I signed up for…I don’t want to do this, I…”

“Before you fly into another panic, would you like me to give you something to calm down?” I ask.

She frowns. “Why? So I don’t fight back while you eat me?”

Rewd pipes up with a growl, “I don’t like witches. They taste stringy and bitter.”

I turn to Rewd, blinking. Why in the finger-licking hell did I think it was a good idea to bring this guy?

“Well, they do,” says the war demon after a pause.

I gotta turn this ship around, fast, before the witch claims a breach of contract and I never earn work-release rights again.

Holding my palms out to show her I mean no harm, I use my best charm on her. “No one is eating anybody. We’re not monsters. Well, we are monsters, but we’re here to do a job that you asked us to do.”

She shakes her head, trying to hide behind a dressing screen in the corner. “I made a mistake. I didn’t know what I was getting into. I promise I’ll leave you a positive review; just go back, please!”

“That’s not how this works, sweetheart. I gotta do whatever it is you called me here to do.”

She peeks out from behind the screen, her chin trembling. “But the price. What are you going to take from me? Are you going to hurt me? Turn me into a demon? Take me back to your h-hell palace?”

For the first time in my life, my heart might crack open. Not even as a joke would I entertain bringing her back to that hellhole as my bride. Not even a witch, whose ancestors are responsible for my eternal prison.

“My friend and I don’t want to do that either.”

Her pretty brows come together. “Demons don’t have friends. Forming community among demons goes against the 1859 Accord.”

“Oh. Well, if it’s against the accord, then by all means, we should be going, right?”

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