Page 24 of Demon Queen
“Don’t touch me,” I snapped.
He immediately took his hand off me, but still ushered me quickly up the stairs using his oppressive presence.
“Where do you think you’re taking me?” I demanded. What if he took me somewhere beautiful and tried to make me forget my broken heart? It wouldn’t work. Three years of active motherhood had made me strong. Maybe.
“Candy Kingdom. Straldi will welcome Regis while we’re away and let me know his current condition.”
“But…” I tripped on the stairs but didn’t so much as scratch my knee before he caught me up against his warm, strong chest and then proceeded to take the steps in two leaps, another leap to the door, and then we were outside, the push and pull of his muscles around me pressing into my skin. He smelled so good, like all the best things you’d make your house out of if you were a wicked witch in the woods.
There was no point in struggling because he didn’t even notice as he carried me down to a large black sedan. Someone opened the door, flashing a nervous smile at Dorian before closing it on us where we were in back seat with me on his lap, and him under me, his hands absolutely intractable.
I was in shock from being so close. So terribly close. “This is you not touching me?” I gasped.
He placed me down on the seat, but leaned over me, eyes flashing with anger. “You put yourself in harm’s way. I thought we had an agreement. If you can’t keep your side of the bargain for ten minutes, then how can I keep mine, my pretty sweet?”
“I’m not your…” I sputtered, shoving against his broad chest.
His eyes narrowed. “But you are. Mine. Forever. At least until you die. I don’t suppose you’d consider turning into a vampire. You’d be immortal and much more difficult to kill, so I’d give you more freedom, at least after you’d transitioned well.” He brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers, sending a shock of awareness through me that had me pulling his hand down, digging my nails into his skin.
“I’m not turning into a vampire. And I’m not yours just because you got spikes. Stop touching me!”
He frowned then looked down at his hand. “Interesting how I only notice not touching you. It’s just as well. You probably wouldn’t survive transition.”
Was he kidding me? Let’s turn you into a vampire? “No? I guess I could turn into a werewolf instead.”
He rumbled deep in his chest. Was that a growl? “Werewolves suffer a great deal to become so fierce and terrible. I would not allow you to suffer so much.”
Apparently he didn’t catch the sarcasm. It was willful, though. Dorian had always understood truth, lies, and every variation in between very well. “You wouldn’t allow? Seriously, the crust on this guy.”
He smiled slightly. “I love it when you talk about me in third person. I’ve missed it.”
“You’ve missed being annoying and obnoxious, because that’s the only time I ever…” I took a quick gulp of breath and shook my head. “We aren’t talking about back then. I really hate you for what you did to me. You should have told me that you were a demon before you ever touched me.”
His lips tilted in a dangerous smile. “It would have been rude not to reciprocate when you kissed me. And touching you protected you from the demons you attract like catnip. My scent on your skin is the best protection I can give you when I’m not around you myself. Also, and most importantly, I wanted to touch you, and you asked so politely. You wouldn’t have wanted me if you’d known what I was.”
I jabbed his chest with my finger. “Which is why lying is a problem, because then people think you’re something that you’re not and you have to pay someone off to get rid of them. Which still makes no sense. Will you back off?” I thumped his chest with my fists.
He sighed heavily and slid away until he was against the door, giving me all the space he could. It still wasn’t enough. He still smelled delicious and moved like silk velvet. The trouble was that I felt a million times worse when he wasn’t oppressing me with his muscles, the misery right there above me, waiting to drown me and drag me down into the abyss of hopelessness. My sweet Wilkie was still gone. Maybe he was in the Zombie Queen’s dungeon.
Dorian looked out the window at the passing buildings and murmured. “Perhaps you’re right. I should have told you that I was a demon, but if I had told you, I would have kept you. You’re clearly uncomfortable with the idea of being with a demon. Pity that you returned to repay a debt you didn’t owe. It’s a peculiar thing, you coming to me like that. It seemed like you didn’t knowI’d be there, but why were you in my club if not to see me? Very peculiar.”
I was not talking about Wilkie. “Almost as peculiar as you hiring me in the first place. My sexy outfit was a bumblebee costume. I was too whimsical for your club.”
“You were too whimsical for any club. At least at mine, I could ensure your safety.” He glanced over at me. “Or maybe I didn’t want you to dance for anyone else. That’s how I felt towards the end, like I wanted to pluck out the eyes of anyone who looked at you. I did that once or twice to those who went too far.”
I stared at him while the image of him plucking out eyeballs made me nauseous. “You’re trying to pin your eyeball plucking on me? No thank you. You were turning into this blood and violence demon. That’s just part of your life cycle, or whatever. It has nothing to do with me.”
He raised a dark brow over flickering golden eyes. “On the contrary. Needing to protect you changed me then like it did now. Not so dramatically as the spikes, but your safety has always been my greatest concern.”
I hated those words. Sure. My safety was so important to him that he just had to throw me away. “We’ll agree to disagree. From where I’m sitting, you’re just looking for an excuse to control me. I am confused why you’d bother. If you’re really into feeding off violence I’m not the person.” Although I did get violent with him earlier. Let’s gloss over that part. I looked out my window, avoiding looking at him.
It was good to be back at the shop, but having Dorian there was not relaxing. He wouldn’t let me cook my own dinner, no,he took the chicken out of my hands like I was incapable and then diced it in two seconds, making me feel incapable. I backed off and got out my notebook, forcing myself to focus on my Halloween theme in spite of the gray monster of despair. Even if I wanted to climb in bed, pull my covers over my head and cry my eyeballs out, I had things to do.
“What are you working on?” he asked, putting my blackened chicken linguine in front of me before he took a place next to me with his own plate.
“Nothing dangerous. That’s all you need to know. Also, it’s my kitchen. I don’t want you cooking for me anymore.”
He leaned over and the scent of cinnamon overwhelmed me. “But you could get food poisoning. I am compelled by my nature to protect you, which includes all kinds of dangers.”
