Page 60 of Beauty's Monstrous Demons

“As long as we’re playing show and tell reciprocally,” she says.

My mind goes straight to the gutter, and I growl under my breath. Smirking, she shrugs, thinking.

“There’s a lot no one knows about. I was a loner growing up because it was easier not to trust others. I’m uncomfortable receiving presents from others, I’m always worried it’ll come with strings,” she says. “I also form attachments to things since they’re the only things I own and they’re the ones that have been with me through important times in my life.”

“Like your car?” I ask. “I saw you driving the other day and I thought it was going to blow up.”

“Bertie isn’t that bad,” she says, amused. “She has a tuneup tomorrow. Well, a major overhaul that I’ve been avoiding. Samael is going to let me drive his car in the meantime.”

Why does a fear demon who can teleport need a car?Wondering if Samael is working behind the scenes to replace the car named Bertie, I nod.

“You’re wearing different boots tonight,” I observe.

“I am,” she says, blushing. At least, I think she is since we’re in the darkness as I drive. “Samael exchanged my boots for another pair so he could take them to a cobbler. I may have actually had a hole in the soles.”

I don’t doubt it. I had noticed that they looked like death traps. Her words make a lot of sense if she’s attached to things that have seen some shit with her.

“How many times has Bertie stalled out on you?” I ask curiously.

“Ugh, the bitch likes to be dramatic,” she says. “Bertie has died on me several times driving across state lines. It’s always stressful, but it’s why I always keep ‘Bertie money’.”

“For when she shits the bed?” I ask.

“That’s an accurate description,” she says. “Bertie tends to have bowel issues. I’m fairly certain she’s leaking oil.”

Chuckling, I shake my head. “She’s a hot mess, Lorelei. I have a feeling she may need more than a tuneup.”

“She does. Which means that everything I’ve made the last several weeks will be going into her,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “I’m used to it, though.”

Deciding that I’m going to swing by the only mechanic tomorrow to cover the bill, I turn off the road I’m on to drive to the restaurant.

“Your turn,” she says. “What’s one thing that no one else knows?”

I knew this was coming, but my mind freezes for a moment as I think about what to tell her. Samael is a damn mind reader of sorts, but he doesn’t know the extent of my death plan. God, there are so many things no one knows.

“I wish photography had existed long before it was invented,” I say. “There are so many things that I’d capture with it that I’m afraid of forgetting.”

“Do you miss her?” she asks. “Your omega?”

“Dahlia,” I reply. “I miss who she was. Sweet, inquisitive, and an incredible mother. My children were adults, one of them was an omega as well and also died of the same thing a year later. Natalia had just had a daughter, which meant her husband wentthrough the same heartbreak I did. Unfortunately, he died with her and I raised their children. This kept me busy, gave me a reason to live.”

“That’s terrible that their children lost both their parents,” Lorelei whispers.

“It was. They were a hybrid of human and demon, so the bloodline ensured that some would be omegas,” I explain. “It also meant they were susceptible to certain illnesses as well.”

“Are you worried something could happen to me?” she asks. “With the way the tarot cards were read, it’s a possibility.”

“A curse and an illness are very different,” I growl. “There are things we can do to ensure you are safe. We also need to find this shithead of a scent match that’s your last variable. I’m less afraid of that than some kind of illness.”

“Does it help that I’ve never really been sick?” she asks. “Group and foster homes were a cesspool of illness, but I never got sick.”

“It does,” I admit. “I’ll still worry about you.”

“Maybe that’s not so bad, as long as you stay in the moment with me,” she says, smiling as I pull into the parking lot of the restaurant.

Once parked, I get out of the car to help her out, all the while thinking about how I wouldn’t dream of blinking, much less losing out on experiencing every moment I can with her. Her small hand sits perfectly in my palm as I help her stand, my gaze fully enjoying her beauty.

“This restaurant is definitely off the beaten path, but makes incredible Creole food,” I murmur, holding her hand as I lock up the car.

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