Page 8 of Demon Sworn
Akor whistles.
Van keeps his phone pointed at the officer, who sags in either defeat or relief after he’s come. When his eyes rise to Van’s, my brother says, “I think you’re just gonna let us go with a warning, right, Officer?”
The humiliated human gives a brief nod. And Van sets down his phone. “Good. Then I won’t have to post this video online. You have a nice night.”
As we pull away from the cop, Akor crosses his arms and pouts. “Sometimes, I really fucking hate that even though lust demons are evil, people still fucking love them.”
I glance back at the cop, who is staring longingly at Van even as we drive off, reinforcing Akor’s words.
“Some people love pain,” Van offers.
“During sex,” Akor counters. “Not very many love pain for its own beautiful sake.” He blows a raspberry at Van.
I can’t help but silently agree. While my vengeance is useful, it sickens most souls until they become obsessed. There are no pleasant side effects to revenge. A kernel of jealousy starts to form inside me as I think,If Van did what I did, Katrina would forgive him.
But before loathing can roar more angry things in my ears, we’ve parked.
I glance out the window at a gleaming high-end skyscraper made of silver privacy glass so that the upper class can glare down at the world as they commit their selfish acts—their stealing, their lying, their cheating—behind a mirror that hides them from view.
Anger boils in my belly as I wrench open the van door. And suddenly, the jealousy in my chest vanishes. Lust might be nice. But vengeance is what Katrina actually needs.
I’m what she needs. And I’m about to prove it.
4
Van
My nerves areon high alert as we take the elevator up to the thirtieth floor. There's a woman in tight yoga pants, holding a pink mat who eyes me the entire way, making me incredibly uncomfortable.
All I want right now is to be home with Katrina, cuddling my Center and celebrating our victory in Heaven. We should be snuggled up under a blanket withCluelessstreaming. It was next on our “must binge-watch” list. Because, hello, Paul Rudd. Hot to all sexes and species.
But stupid Kastros and her asshole parents messed all of that up. There are no victory-snuggles for me. Thoughts as bitter and nasty as dark brew coffee filter through my mind. Fuck everyone. And not in the good way.
I'm annoyed at Akor for making that cop slow us down, pissed as all get out with Kastros, and to top all that off, I feel so damn useless. I can't orgasm Katrina’s broken heart away. I don’t have the power to hurt her parents the way they deserve. I feel fucking boxed in, like my hands are tied.
Yoga mat woman brushes up against me suggestively, and I take a step sideways, glaring at her. I don’t give a shit that her cheeks grow pink with embarrassment or that she might only be reacting to the leftover pheromones from thatReno 911wannabe cop. I’m pissed. I’ve got more important things to deal with than this.
I check my lust, making sure that shit is shut the hell off. No way do I want Katrina’s parents to feel an ounce of attraction, arousal, or anything else good.
Shit.
Maybe I should have kept my useless ass in the car like I did last time. But Adam’s up here. That little kid who’s constantly playing hide and seek and then, without fail, hiding in the exact same spot behind the furniture every time, unaware that his sloppy hair peeks up over the top of the cushions, giving him away every time before he jumps out with a “ROAR!” and I have to grab my heart and fake fear, smothering my laughter with my hand. The little kid who saves me the soggy crunch berries from his cereal because I pretended one time to like them in a misguided attempt to get him to try them, and now he thinks they’re my favorite. The little kid who set up an entire stack of army men in the hall just a couple of days ago, so that he could battle against Zolroth’s new snakeskin boots, which he called dragons.
My chest aches.
I’m going in there. Useless or not. I need to see Adam again. The elevator dings, and yoga mat lady leaves.
“Thank goodness,” I say.
“Maybe I should tell Katrina that you’ve got an admire—” Akor just grins when I slam my forearm into his throat. “Kidding.”
“Stop trying to start fights,” I tell him. “I know you’re riled up too, but we need to focus onthem.”
“Right. The parents. What are their names again?”
Really? Is he trying to get me to sock him in the mouth?
Luckily, the elevator slides open on our floor, and we spill out into the hallway before Akor can say more stupid things. I scan right and left until I see the door we need, the one scribbled onto that scrap of paper that now lives in my pants pocket. I point at it for Kastros, and the huge man makes his way over to it, his bulk covering the entire frame as he knocks.
