Page 51 of Demon Kissed
I don’t know.
I turn back to Zolroth. “Can you believe them?”
He doesn’t answer for a second. He’s too busy staring at his hand, which has a tiny drop of blood on the tip of one finger.
I sit down next to him and reach for it. “Shoot! Are you okay? Was that my shoe?”
“Bowling shoe, I think,” Zolroth says, studying his hand like it’s a science experiment. “I think one of the metal grommets on the laces might be a bit sharp.”
“I can grab you a bandage—”
“No!” His hand closes over my wrist, and he tugs me back down to my seat.
“What? Why?”
Zolroth’s eyes study mine, and again, I see the red. This time, it flames out from the center and makes his eyes look like magma struggling to break through the surface.
That palpable tension between us grows again when I take his hand to inspect it. I avoid his intense eyes, because right now, I feel like doing something incredibly stupid. I feel like leaning up and kissing him.
But that would ruin everything.
Zolroth’s just here to help me. He’s here to help me and leave. He’s so incredibly out of my league. I’d just embarrass myself. Besides, I want William, right?
Right?!?
Existential crisis here!
Still, I can’t help tracing my fingers over his hand, inspecting the tiny cut there. It’s fascinating how his skin is so soft but the bones are so big compared to mine and that he still feels so strong. His hand could probably almost wrap around my neck, and that thought is both terrifying and exciting. “I think you’ll live. Are you sure you don’t want a Band-Aid?”
He shakes his head. “No. Demons…aren’t supposed to get hurt.”
My eyes fly up to his. “What?”
“It’s rare…almost impossible for us to get hurt.”
I furrow my eyebrows, and he explains further, speaking slowly, almost hesitantly. “The only way we can really be hurt is…if we’re close to our Center.”
I lean in. “You mean that she-demon who attacked you the other night?” I hiss.
“What? No. A female demon didn’t attack us. Some random guys did. Humans, I think, but they were gone before we turned around, so—”
“Well, what the hell is a Center?” I ask, burning with curiosity.
“It’s…for lack of a better term, our mate,” he returns, his eyes steadily holding mine.
I clench down on his injured finger without realizing it as blackness takes over my vision for a second. As soon as I recognize I might be hurting him, I release his hand. “Sor-sorry! Did I hurt you?”
On the outside, I’m all concern, but on the inside, I’m reeling. I’m full of a thousand and one questions about this.
Demons have mates? And what does he mean by “our?” Demonssharemates? And this mate is close?
I’ll kill her.
Not a proportionate response, Katrina. There’s no reason to be murdery…yet.
My eyes scan the bowling alley suspiciously, searching for a stupid-ass demon woman who’s making Zolroth get hurt somehow. But I don’t see one. In fact, I don’t see Janie and William. Oh, wait. I spot them ordering a pizza at the counter.
I wonder if Janie’s the Center. She seems like a demon.
