Page 41 of Beauty's Monstrous Demons

“Place pays out better standing,” he counters. This is how we say goodbye now, and it works.

My filmy white gaze connects Lorelei’s for a moment as I walk past the bar. She holds it for longer than is considered polite, and I know what she sees. A demon who is eight and a half feet tall with dark skin and black freckles. I’ve always noticed it, especially near my cheeks and hands. My black horns have midnight blue highlights throughout them, and my hair is spiky and platinum blonde. In my old age, it’s turned that way after being as dark as my horns.

I command attention wherever I go, my tail ensuring that no one encroaches on my personal space. I’m not above whipping someone with it if needed.

I’m walking under a spotlight, so she has a clear view of me, my claws curling as my hand fists. This is going to do nothing for the erection growing in my pants.

I need to find a reason to see her outside of work, learn why I’m so attracted to her. While I may fuck around, it’s more so out of boredom than interest.

This girl actually makes me want to crawl under her skin and absorb all I can about her. I doubt she’ll survive the encounter as she’s so tiny, but I’ll enjoy every moment.

LORELEI

I’ve been sleeping between Samael and Phenex for the last four nights, living in this apartment, and everything I worried about happening hasn’t.

Flopping onto my back as I hear the males in the kitchen, I gaze around the room. Light resistant curtains cover the windows, ensuring I sleep deeper, and the curtains Phenex hung around his bed help me feel safe and enclosed.

It’s as if he downloaded the guide to how to take care of me, and I’m not mad about it. Sitting up, I smile as I think about how Phenex made space for Samael and I in his closet. As well as started stocking things they know I like.

Scooting off the bed in one of their long sleeved shirts, I stop when I hear Phenex open the front door to the apartment to speak to someone. I don’t want to go out there half naked. Samael appears in front of me, finger up to his lips as we listen to the conversation as it filters through the apartment.

“Why yes, President Christa,” Phenex says. “You want to discuss the renovation of the history buildings? With me?”

I can tell he doesn’t quite buy her reasoning for stopping by. It appears as if she’s grasping at straws and I really want to know why.

“That woman will talk his ear off,” Samael mutters. “Grab your things and come shower at my apartment. He’s not even the Dean of the department.”

Samael may live here as much as I do now, but he is also keeping his apartment for appearance’s sake. I would feel bad about it since I know there’s a housing shortage and the professor in dorm quad hates sharing his space with students, but since he’s a dick, I refuse to.

Nodding even as I listen to the president and Phenex speak, I begin to grab my things. I don’t want to have a conversation with the president of the university about why I’m in a professor’s apartment. My cheeks are already burning with embarrassment.

“Are you expecting company?” she asks as she walks further into the apartment. “That appears to be more food than one person can eat.”

“She’s digging,” Samael mutters, reappearing with my hair products in a bag. “Ignore her. We’ll come back for your backpack.”

“I left it in the living room last night,” I whisper.

“Knowing Phenex, he already hid it,” he reassures me.

“Professor, are you in some kind of illicit relationship?” President Christa asks, and my eyes widen in horror.

“And what if I was?” Phenex asks, chuckling. “Are you here to ask about how my sex life is or isn’t doing?”

“Still digging,” Samael grunts, pulling me into his arms. “Hold on, beautiful.”

Doing as he says because I would prefer my body’s particles to come back together properly, my mind races. The question burning in my mind as we leave the apartment is why does she care so much?

Despite an odd beginning to my day, I lean into the idea that things have to get better from here. Dashing around creatures that tower over me and refuse to look down reminds me of a video game, only the stakes are higher to stay alive and not get squished.

Blowing out a breath, I race up the stairs to the chemistry lab. I need to make some more descenting spray now that I know it works, and I don’t want to go to my dorm room to pick up my lotion. Honestly, I’m surprised I forgot to grab it in my frenzied rush to pack when it’s been my saving grace for the past year and a half.

“Miss Rose,” a voice calls out as I hurry down the hall. Twisting around, I keep my back against the wall so that those behind me can get through without knocking into me.

“You’re a difficult woman to track down,” the head of the chemistry department says with a smirk as he gets closer. It’s true, we haven’t been able to connect again in the almost two weeks that I’ve been here. “Do you have a minute? I want you to meet someone.”

“Ah, yes. I was just headed to the chem lab,” I explain. “I’ve tried popping into your office a couple of times, but the timing hasn’t been right.”

“I was kidding about being difficult to find,” Dr. Alvaro says, waving his hand in the air. “I saw that you declared a major. Congratulations. Just because we haven’t been able to connect, doesn’t mean that I’m not keeping up with you. Nonprofit management and social work is an interesting choice.”

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