Page 25 of Demon's Prey
Kurse was gluing a popsicle stick onto another one in an upside down cross when he looked up at Faith. “Umm, the only way to explain it in human terms is like, holy water?” Kurse says, unsure if he was getting the wording right.
“Uh-huh,” Faith nodded, then knelt down on the floor. “Something to ward off evil spirits?”
Kurse nodded, then laughed. “Oh, humankind and their languages!”
Faith’s eyes widened, “Come again?”
“Well, technically, I’m an evil spirit if you get down to brass tacks.”
“And looking at these isn’t harming you?”
Kurse shook his head. “If I placed my likeness upon a rune, it cannot hurt me. However, it will hurt whoever comes across it that I deem threatening.”
“And in this case, it would be anyone related to John Savage?”
Kurse nodded enthusiastically, delighted that he was able to share some of his world with Faith. “Yes, exactly! And anything else that could come across us—”
“Anything else?” Faith said, looking concerned. Kurse cringed, unsure whether or not he should share with her the prospect of other demons walking the earth—ones far more malevolent than the King of Iron.
Though he did think of himself as pretty malevolent, there was something about Faith that kept those urges at bay. There was no need to upset her just after having such a harrowing experience.
“Yeah, just other humans in general! I’m sure you know how they can be.”
Kurse watched as Faith’s body relaxed after tensing at the mention of other threats. He also observed how her chest looked when she breathed hard, heaving up and down, the exposed flesh, probably perfumed and tantalizing.
He shook the thought away. He had to focus on finishing these runes and applying his likeness.
Faith watched him construct twenty more runes for an hour. Every now and then, she would get up, use the bathroom, eat, and ask Kurse if he needed anything to eat. He needed to get this done. He couldn’t have her getting kidnapped again or worse—getting hurt.
Kurse placed the runes around the apartment to finalize the ritual. He placed many at the top of the doorway to the apartment, on the sliding glass door, and over Faith’s bed. She would spend most of her time sleeping, so it was the best place to gather them all in a hushed mess.
Kurse had finished placing the last of the runes over her bed when Faith inquired, almost forcefully. “Do you want a beer? You haven’t had anything for hours. Give yourself a break!” She hollered at him.
Kurse was sweating as he placed the last rune, one that looked like a series of circles, at the center of the mess, making them join together half-heartedly. He stepped back to admire his work but abruptly felt like he was going to faint.
“Woah, be careful there,” Faith said at the entry of her bedroom. “You know I can’t catch you if you fall over right.”
Kurse caught himself before tipping over, then realized he was probably dehydrated.
He wiped his brow, “Yeah, I think I’ll take that beer.”
Kurse had heard of beer before, but nothing like it existed in the realm of Kortanth. If they drank anything for leisure, it was pure and 100% alcohol. No beating around the bush for demons.
Faith had poured the golden liquid into a tall glass and handed it to Kurse. He smelled it first. The mug appeared dainty in his large hands. He took a giant gulp, downing it completely.
“Woah,” Kurse said while Faith giggled next to him on the couch. He placed the glass down in front of him and let out an epic burp—one that felt like it began at his toes and ran up to his spine.
He covered his mouth while smiling. “Sorry.”
Faith shook her head, still laughing. “It’s okay. Most people burp when they drink down a whole beer in one motion.”
Kurse giggled back. He wasn’t completely sitting on the couch, as he wasn’t able to, but he noticed how Faith was sitting closer to him than she ever had. He relished in her scent, her exposed skin.
“Kurse,” Faith said, looking him deep in the eyes. He remained still and waited for her to speak. His gaze did not linger on her chest, despite the fact that she was leaning forward, and he could see the tip of the glorious curve of her cleavage. “I meant to thank you for what you did. I don’t think I did yet.”
Kurse shrugged, “You don’t really need to. I’ve been a bit of a nuisance since intruding upon your life.”
Faith inched closer to him. Her scent was intoxicating—something fragrant that made him think of lilacs and waterfalls. Whatever it was, it was making him hard beneath his loincloth.
