Page 38 of Bad Demon

I backed up, climbing off the bed. “Crystal.”

He nodded. “Glad we got that straightened out.” He got off the bed. “I’ll let you get ready. You have sugar in your coffee as well?”

I blinked over at him. “Uh … yeah.”

“Cool.” He walked out.

ChapterNine

FERN

True to his word,Relic didn’t leave my side all day. He stood behind the counter, arms crossed, eyeing everyone who came in and—I assumed—assessing them and the level of threat they possessed. I tried to convince him—order him—to move to the back room, but the stubborn hound refused. I had literally no power over the asshole, and he was loving it.

I’d totally screwed myself, but this was still better than the alternative, thanks to Relic’s humongous and threatening presence. There was no sign of Grady or the other demons—I checked for them throughout the day, scanning the street outside the store, as well as the security footage of the previous night, and nothing. As fucked as my situation with Relic was, it was working.

Still, I was on edge, and it didn’t help that my giant stalker decided to pepper me with questions. He wanted to know every single thing there was to know about me. I didn’t give him any answers because I didn’t need to give this male any more ammunition. I already felt exposed in a way I fucking hated.

But despite all of that, and though it made no sense, I also felt incredibly safe.

I didn’t know if I should trust it—that feeling. I probably shouldn’t, but he’d had ample opportunity to hurt me if he wanted to. Yes, he was a behemoth pain in the ass, but I could get used to this feeling. I’d spent so much of my life afraid it felt nice to know that someone had my back, even if he was unpredictable and there because I’d forced him to be. Even if he hated me for what I’d done, he was here, and unless I ended the deal—which I had no idea how to do even if I wanted to—he wasn’t going anywhere.

“What do you want for dinner?” he asked, surprising me while I locked up.

“Dinner?”

“You gotta eat, Tink. Unless you’re thirsty. You want some blood?”

My gaze slid to the thick veins in his forearm, then up to the one pulsing at the side of his throat, and without my say-so, my hearing intensified, tuning in to the swoosh of his blood as it pumped through that massive body. My mouth went dry.

“I’m not thirsty,” I lied.

He tilted his head to the side. “No?”

“Nope.”

“So, how often do soul collectors need to feed, Fern?”

The way he’d said my name made my belly all swirly.

“We’re all different.” I had no freaking idea, but no way was I telling him that.

“Okay, then, how often do you feed?”

I shrugged. “Not often.”Not ever.

He nodded, and his eyes narrowed a little. “But you still gotta eat food, right? So, what do you want?”

“I’m not picky. What do you want to eat?”

He licked his bottom lip before his teeth sank into it, flashing one of those sharp canines. Then his thick throat worked as he swallowed. “What I want is currently off the menu, Tinker Bell. So, for now, I’ll have to make do with a nice, juicy steak.”

I pretended like I hadn’t caught his meaning or the way those words had alarmingly affected me—and not in a bad way—as I rounded the counter. Grabbing the stack of takeout menus, I dumped them on top. “Take your pick.”

“Nah, we’re going out,” he said, not even sparing them a glance. “My treat.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

Why would he want to do that? And what if Grady was out there?

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