Page 50 of An Unexpected Ascension
Now, the idea of being alone feels close to torture.
I decide all I want to do is lie down on my cot and stare at the ceiling for hours until I have to head back to the orphanage, but of course – there’s a demon that’s taken it captive.
His head falls toward the door at my entry, those navy eyes taunting me along with that smug grin plastered to his face. The muscles in his biceps twitch as if they too were teasing me, his hands tucked underneath his head and his ankles crossed.
“What are you doing here?” I hold back the bite in my tone, trying to seem as unbothered as the demon lounging in my bed.
“Never tried one of these out before. They’re incredibly uncomfortable, so much worse than the beds in Hell. At least you’ll have that to look forward to.”
I pinch my lips, my blood boiling inside my veins.
“Come, sit. Let me tell you a story.” The demon pushes himself up, planting himself at the edge of my cot and pats the space next to him.
“No thanks.”
Whispers begin to hiss inside my mind, chanting and begging for me tosit, sit, sit!It doesn’t help that the demon’s own voice joins in now, and all I want to do is cling to those deep vibrations, to let his seduction pull me away from the incessant pestering in my own head.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I focus on the one voice I wish wasn’t here.
“Come sit, Angel. You know you want to. I’ll even keep my hands to myself this time.”
That dark husky chuckle rings through the crowded chaos, slicing through all the different tones and pitches scratching away in my thoughts.
Sit, girl, sit next to him, sit with the demon.
“Stop it!” The plea slips before I can bite it back.
Silence.
Utter, blissful silence.
Hermes pats the space next to him again. My feet slide against the concrete floor, reluctance like a shackle around my ankles. With each step forward, that smirk on his face only deepens.
Slowly, I lower at the far edge of the mattress, putting as much space between us as possible – which isn’t much.
“Good girl.”
His condescending praise forces up words too explicit for Heaven, like bile. Those words push up and up and up until they’re coating my tongue, filling my mouth, and begging to be free. Swallowing them down is even worse.
Instead, I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth until his smile grows borderline feral.
“What do you want, Hermes?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“I think you’re the only one in Heaven that isn’t afraid to say my demon name.”
“What else would they call you? Every other name I can think of will only cost me.” I scoff.
“Well, nothing. They think just by calling my name I’ll be summoned to drag them to the underworld.”
“Isn’t that literally what you do?”
“Yes and no,” he starts. “That is my job, but I don’t damn just anyone.”
“Except for me.”
“You, Angel, aren’t just anyone.”
His hand reaches out as if to touch me but retracts at his promise that he wouldn’t. Some sick part of me feels a shameful disappointment.
