Page 24 of Higher Demon

I purse my lips. “That would have been much more effective if you were dressed appropriately.”

The sound that tears from his throat is half growl, half hiss, and it makes my unfortunately human body respond in a way I haven’t experienced for a long time. Of course I experimented with human sex once, a long time ago, but once I’d learned everything I could from the experience, it seemed foolish to pursue it further. And messy. I ruined some very nice clothes that way. Humans just don’t have a high enough regard for good tailoring.

So it’s rather surprising to have this reaction now. A visceral thing, perhaps? The animal physiology of this form behaving instinctively?

Whatever it is, I find it inconvenient and annoying. Much like the whole of humanity.

“I’ll just be off, then,” Norval says, popping out before Ian can turn his wrath in a new direction.

“And I’ll, uh, go pay the check,” Matt mutters, sliding out of the booth.

Ian turns his furious face in my direction.

“This is a good look for you,” I tell him. “You should embrace rage more often.”

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way.”

I lean back against the booth, rather enjoying myself all of a sudden. It’s not as good as making those students cry, but there’s something to be said for inciting uncharacteristic rage in people.

Oh—could it be that the experience is enhanced because Ian’s my “friend”?

“Does infuriating you count as the act of a friend?”

His jaw visibly clenches, face getting red…

And then he laughs.

It’s not often a human can surprise me, but he’s managed it.

“You can’t distract me from our mission. Get the fuck out of the booth, Marc, and let’s go plan how to get you more friends you can piss off.”

I suppose that is the goal here, and I don’t know how else to react to his sudden change of mood, so I slide out, straightening my trousers as I stand.

“Could you move?” he snaps from behind me where I’ve trapped him in the booth, and I glance over my shoulder to see his gaze fixed to… my ass?

I will never understand humans.

* * *

Ian takeshis poor temper out on the road, driving in a manner that nobody would judge safe. I know this because it only takes two minutes before the sound of a ringing phone fills the car, and then Matt’s voice is saying, “What the fuck, man? You got a death wish? I know Marc’s company is bad, but just saying, there are better ways to avoid it than dying.”

“My company is excellent,” I inform him. “If you’re not sophisticated enough to enjoy it, that’s an evolutionary problem.”

“Slow the fuck down,” Matt says, ignoring me. “You just ran a stop sign, moron.” He ends the call, but Ian doesn’t take his foot off the accelerator.

I weigh my options. It’s not that Icareif he dies horrifically in a fiery collision, but since I’m in the car, it’s likely the Collective would try to blame me. Not to mention his ridiculous brother.

“It may not be possible for me to die in a vehicular accident, but reconstructing my body would be very inconvenient.”

Finally, he speaks. “And god forbid you should be inconvenienced.”

“I’d also have to go to the bother of killing everyone you know and love,” I continue. “Just to prevent them from hunting me. And that would destroy the truce between our worlds.” I pause. “Although it might be worth it if I get to kill Connor.”

He scoffs, but the car slows to something resembling a safe speed. “Stop with the killing Connor jokes, already. It’s getting old.”

It wasn’t a joke, but now doesn’t seem the best time to risk antagonizing him again. I turn to look out the window instead.

We reach my home in an astoundingly short time due to Ian’s little mental break, and I leave the mediocre vehicle gladly, eager to be in what counts for a sanctuary on this forsaken planet. Though my mood sours slightly as Ian’s door slams behind me and I remember he and his family will be invading.

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