Page 56 of Demon Kissed
“Akor?” This time, my voice is louder, but only marginally. You never really know when a murderer is lurking behind a corner.
Or in this case, a pink-haired, eccentric demon.
Same thing.
“Akor!”
The distinct sound of muffled cursing reaches my ears, and I turn towards the honest-to-fuck minivan parked as far away from the lone street lamp as humanly possible. All I can see are vague silhouettes, barely visible in the glow of the crescent moon. But that voice? Muttering inane sayings such as, “Fuck me with a baseball bat. Fuck my unholy momma. Fuck your hairy asshole with a razor.”
That’s most definitely Akor.
I quicken my pace, unease automatically slithering down my spine like someone has dumped an ice cube down the back of my shirt. Not gonna lie—there’s something immensely terrifying about crossing an abandoned parking lot in the middle of the fucking night.
I wonder if the other demons have even realized I left yet. Probably not, if I’m being honest with myself. They probably found a group of pretty girls to keep them company the moment I left.
My heart clenches at the prospect, but I shove those thoughts away like one would a pesky fly.
Not today, Satan. Not today.
Though…
I really have to rethink that whole Satan thing, don’t I? Does he actually exist? Is he the leader of Hell? Would that make him the guys’ boss? Their…daddy? Oh, fuck. Do they call him Daddy Lucifer and bend over for naughty spankings? Is that what’s going to happen if they don’t fulfill my wish? Is that—
“What the fuck?” I screech when I finally reach the minivan.
Akor spins towards me guiltily, arms raised like a prisoner approaching a police officer.
“I can explain,” he pleads, but I can barely look at him. No, my entire attention is fixated on the familiar man halfway inside the trunk.
The familiar,deadman.
Jason.
His wide, mossy green eyes are vacant and unseeing, and his head is canted to the side at an unnatural angle. Blood cakes his hair to his scalp, and I notice a few more streaks on his cheeks.
Jason. Is. Dead.
And Akor is currently shoving his corpse into the back of agoddamnminivan that has a bumper sticker that reads “Family 4 Life!”
“Kat, please,” Akor begs, taking a step closer to me. It’s only then that I notice the blood covering both of his hands. I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed it before, but now, it’s all I can see. That thick, red liquid stains his naturally pasty skin. I wonder if it stains his soul the same way?
I’ve caught him red-handed.
And it’s not punny. Oh fucking hell, no, it’s not funny at all. My heart has left my body and is currently hiding behind the light post on the far end of the parking lot.
“Get away from me.” My voice is barely audible as I continue to back away. Step by step by step.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“It was an accident!”
“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Zolroth demands as he stalks forward, seemingly out of nowhere. “Oh…fuck.”
He grabs my waist immediately, his touch almost hesitant and unsure, but I shy away. I can’t allowanyof them to touch me right now. My skin suddenly doesn’t feel like my own, too itchy, too thick, too…contaminated. Akor has fucking contaminated me.
I know my thoughts are turning illogical and incoherent, but I can’t find it within me to give a damn.
A guy isdead.
