Page 95 of Demon Kissed
Love?!?
Why the fuck is he calling her love?
I know it’s a British term of endearment, but…it’s a freaking British term ofendearment!How has Janieendearedherself to him?
Before I can jump from the table, charge over there, and rip Janie’s hand from her arm, I feel the metal prongs of a fork against my lips. I whip my head back in William’s direction to see him smiling slyly at me.
“Open up,” he whispers in what he probably thinks is a seductive purr, but all I can think about is how unsanitary it is to use the same fork.
Hesitantly, I open my mouth, and he shoves the bite of pasta inside of it before slowly, languidly, pulling it back out.
But come the fuck on.
He has the exact same meal as I do.
“What do you think?” William asks, reclining in his seat and swirling his soda in the glass cup.
“It tastes like…my food,” I murmur awkwardly as I dab at my lips with the napkin. I’m pretty sure William got more on my face than in my mouth. And if he has that bad of aim…
Well…
I can’t imagine the lower half will be any better.
Another one of Janie’s high-pitched giggles has me seeing green. And red. Sort of like Christmas colors. A fucking Christmas combination ofjealousy and rage.
I don’t even understand half of the emotions running unbridled inside of me. Why am I feeling like this? I should be over the moon that I’m on a date with William, not obsessing over every interaction my fake ex-boyfriend has with my enemy.
And yet…
And yet my eyes are drawn to the five demons like heat-seeking missiles. Try as I might, they’re never far from the forefront of my mind, demanding my complete and utter attention. These fucking beautiful, damaged, broken men.
Mine.
That word seeps into my very bones—into my soul—and I nearly choke on the sheer rightness of it.
I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but somewhere amidst the chaos of the last couple weeks, my feelings for the demons have shifted. The emotion thumping my heart is similar to the one I once felt when I was with William. But stronger. Brighter. Even more heartbreakingly beautiful.
Oh my God.
I’m struck speechless with the enormity of my feelings and the crippling realization that I fucked things up marvelously.
“Who wants to see a magic trick?” Akor announces suddenly, and the various patrons in the restaurant turn to give him their undivided attention. There’s something about his magnetic, infectious personality that reels people in. Or it could just be because he’s bat-shit crazy and currently standing on his chair, holding three knives in his hand.
With a deranged laugh, one that causes goosebumps to erupt on my skin, he begins to juggle the knives while humming softly.
“Zolroth?” Akor grins manically down at the materialism demon, who sighs heavily. Procuring a quarter from his tweed jacket’s pocket, Zolroth holds it up for Akor’s inspection. “Heads, you hand me another knife. Tails, I stab one of these knives into William’s neck.”
The people in hearing range begin to laugh, even William, no doubt believing it’s a joke.
It’s most definitely not.
Zolroth throws the coin up in the air and captures it on the back of his hand.
My heart constricts as that tiny coin flips through the air and then falls. I can’t look.
Zolroth almost looks disappointed when he murmurs, “Heads.”
“Damn,” Van growls, sulking.
