Page 18 of Cookbooks and Demons

“It’s because… because…” He flicked his wings out, and she wondered why this was such a struggle for him to talk about. “The dead are not supposed to return to this world once they’ve died. It’s a fundamental law of this plane of existence, and my very presence violates it. In order for me to be here, this circle made a body for me to inhabit, and it’s a twisted one from one like yours that was created naturally.”

Helena blinked at the implications of that idea.

“So you’re … actually dead?”

“When I became a demon, yes, my mortal body died.” Rafferty nodded.

Helena blinked at that. “You were a man?”

“I was an idiot who thought he could trick the demon he made a deal with, and now I am one of the infernal creatures, which is why I didn’t want you to getinvolved.”

“But I’m not involved,” Helena protested. “I don’t want anything from you. I just want tohelp you.”

“Look you want the whole laid out truth—here it is.” He leaned forward to look her directly in the eyes. The fire in them hypnotized her, and she couldn’t move. They were like pools opening up to swallow her, and the eerie, wrong feeling crawled along her skin, urging her to tear it off to stop it. “The only way you can keep me here for any extended amount of time is to make a contract with me. What I’m supposed to do then is get you to sign away yourself to me in exchange for something you think will make you happy, and then when I do that, I pull you down into hell with me, in order to move up in the demonic hierarchy. Okay? Then you get unleashed to do the same, all the while suffering for your sins here on earth. Is that what you want, Helena?”

Helena wanted to scream.

She could feel every horror he described, the deep terror of an existence that was nothing but pain, nothing but unreality. If only she could scream!

He closed his eyes, finally releasing her from his hold. She found that she could move again. Terrified, she pushed away from him, sliding across the floor until her back hit the front of her oven. Desperately she rubbed at her arms to chase away the creepy crawling sensation. For a moment, she thought she wouldthrow up.

“What did… did you do to me?” she choked out, her tongue feeling too thick.

“Gave you a taste of what you’re asking for because apparently you need the point spelled out. Now send me back and don’t ever summon me again.” He settled back from her and pulled his knees up against his chest. His wings framed his form, making him seem like a dark shadow sitting in the middle of her kitchen.

She felt a powerful urge to attack him. To destroy this unholy thing that had violated her. It was terrifying, and she knew he was there toharm her.

The primal instincts dragged her to her feet, and she scrambled for the dirty frying pan she had left on her stove from breakfast. She lifted it up, feeling mighty and righteous with her weapon, prepared to smash it down onto the demon before her.

The demon closed its eyes and waited.

Helena battled with herself. It would be so easy to give into it. She wanted to so badly, and it would feel so good to hit him with her weapon.

“This isn’t… no!” she shouted and threw the pan. It soared through the air and crashed through the glass doors leading out to her back porch.

She dropped to her knees, panting, struggling to make sense of what had just happened. “That’snotwho I am!” sheshouted.

Chapter 11

Then He Made Me Tea

Rafferty looked over his shoulder at the destroyed door, eyes wide with amazement. Slowly, he stood up, his back to her as the cold wind blew the wisps of his hair. A piece of glass holding on at the top wavered in the night wind a moment before losing its grip and gloriously crashing to the ground. Both beings in the kitchen flinched at the sound.

“Oh crap,” Helena said as she stared at it. “That’s going to be expensive to fix.”

Rafferty grunted, then turned, finally stepping out of the circle. Helena didn’t realize what he was doing until there was a clink of metal bumping metal. Looking over her shoulder, she watched as the demon filled the dented kettle she kept on her stove from her sink. The fire on her stovetop made her flinch again, and she dropped back onto her backside to press her hands against her face. She couldn’t hold it back anymore and started crying softly.

She didn’t care what else the demon did around her. And she didn’t lift her head again until something warm pressed against the back of her hand. Startled, she scuttled back too fast and banged her elbow against thecupboard.

“Ow,” she whimpered meekly, grabbing the elbow.

“It’s okay. Just drink it,” Rafferty said, squatting down where he had been standing so he was on the same level, well the same level-ish, as she was. He held out one of her large mugs, steam rising from the top.

“What is it?” Helena asked, eyeingthe mug.

“Something to undo what I did,” he said. There was no hint of apology in his voice.

“Whatis it?” she asked again, narrowing her eyes at him.

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