Page 6 of Demon Queen
He stared at me, just stared, like I was the last person in the world he wanted to see. Well, I had stolen three quarter of a million dollars from him. I also didn’t want him to see me.Desperately. But he saw me with those unblinking eyes that were glowing brighter and brighter with this red flickering to black underneath.
“Those special effects eyes are phenomenal,” I said as I slowly straightened up. Wow! Words actually came out of my throat. We were all astonishing tonight. “I need to get some for the Halloween display. Yours are even better than Honey’s, although hers are really good too. Really, really…”
He moved towards me, two steps before he stopped, looking like he was fighting off the pull of a current, pulling him towards me. That’s how I felt, pulled towards him by the universe. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to be around someone who exuded so much charisma that I could feel his magnetism to my bones. I really, really hadn’t wanted to feel that ever again.
“Cherry? What are you doing here?” His voice was so…everything.
What was I doing there? I couldn’t remember until that laugh tickled my brain around the edges. Wilkie. I was here to find Wilkie, but I’d found his father instead. What were the odds of that. Did Dorian steal him? I stole his money so he stole my son? I needed more information. Also to not be killed by this clearly incredibly dangerous man. I’d been an idiot to steal for him, even if he did put on wings as part of his whole show. He had small horns too, above his ears, tips visible through his dark hair. Ah. This was a demon themed den. Now everything was coming together.
He took another step towards me and I held up my hands, like those small pale things could stop anyone so ridiculously powerful. “I’m here to pay you back for the money I borrowed!” I sputtered then flashed a smile that was definitely manic. Painful. It hurt to smile at the man who betrayed me, but I’d definitely gotten him back for that. But if he’d stolen my baby…I’d just have to steal him back.
He stopped moving, stopped breathing, stopped every single twitch of wing and tail—wait, a tail?—and then spikes shot out of his head. Four inches long, two inches at the base as they came up through his hair, through his suit coat down his back, and all along his tail. He had a tail. And spikes along with the civilized horns. And I’d stolen money from him.
I wasn’t breathing. I should breathe.
He smiled suddenly, a smile that was as charming and persuasive as a shark. “Stole. The money you stole.” He wasn’t going to mention the spikes? How did he rig that whole thing? I shouldn’t stare at his special effects. It was hard, though.
He took another step towards me, but soundless, like I wouldn’t notice him coming if he was quiet. Yep. He definitely remembered me.
I broke out in goosebumps. “Either way, I’d like to pay you back.” Offering to pay would make him less likely to kill me, right? He was a person who killed people. For fun. No, he just made you wish you were dead when he got you knocked up and then had parties with the other strippers while you were trying not to die from morning sickness.
He was wearing a costume. Yes, it was terrifying, but he was still a person who dressed up and ate cinnamon bears. Most likely, the scariness was for effect so he could deal more easily with the type of client who would come to this sort of place. He always knew how to handle clients. Looking deadly was part of the show.
His smile widened. Such a dangerous smile. It went with the spikes. His wings also had spikes. Not cute wings, but deadly. Like the rest of him, barely contained beneath the thin layer of shirt and suit. He was so handsome, somehow even more masculine and compelling than he was twelve years ago. Why wasn’t I running?
A furtive glance down at the floor showed me the winged guy’s eyes as he looked up at Dorian with a slight frown. That expression was so similar to how Dorian’s had been so many years ago, before he became this war machine, managing a fight club instead of a strip club.
Dorian’s eyes narrowed slightly, calculating while his predatory smile vanished. That was his business face. Good. He wouldn’t kill me or seduce me while he was thinking of me like I was business. He spoke evenly. “What a delightful surprise. If you’d like to discuss money matters, we should go into the office where we won’t be disturbed.”
In his office? I shot a look of panic at Catherine, who was blinking rapidly while she tried to catch up with this whole thing.
“We’re here to celebrate,” Honey grumbled, curling her lip at Dorian. “You can do business later. It’s rude to shake someone down while they’re with friends. Also, what is with your spikes?”
I looked back at him, glad I wasn’t the only one who thought they were something to mention. He was still looking at me, waiting for my answer, like Honey hadn’t said anything.
My skin prickled and I wanted to run. The kid’s laugh restarted my brain. I was here for a reason. I would do anything for my baby. If that meant I had to go through the biggest mistake of my life, so be it.
I squared my shoulders. “Yes. Let’s go to your office and discuss business.” I turned to Honey. “Why don’t you guys watch the fighting and drink the pink champagne while we chat. It should only take a second.”
She looked at me with a furrowed brow then at Dorian. “You’re not going to hurt her?”
“I’m a businessman,” he answered without looking away from me. He was still calculating how much interest he could get out of me.
I hesitated for a breath while I steeled my nerves, then I stepped through my foster sisters and towards the danger. “I’ll be fine. It won’t take long.”
Dorian laughed, his voice a low rumble that sent goosebumps up my spine. “Of course it won’t,” he said, then finally looked away from me and gave Honey and Lucy very formal bows.
They sort of bowed back, but I wasn’t focused on them, not when the kid was gliding around again, carrying a tray of drinks without spilling them. It looked so real. Was he my son or a stranger? And how did he make that look so natural?
I needed Dorian to let me hang around his fight club until I figured out who the kid was. If that meant liquidating Candy Kingdom and moving in with Gloria, that’s what I’d do. It would be good for my conscience. It wasn’t right to steal money from anyone, even if he’d broken your heart.
three
. . .
I satin a chair opposite the powerful man whose wings were arced out, claws on each tip before it swooped down to the next tip, like lethal batwings. Also, were they dripping? The scent of cinnamon bears grew stronger every second we sat there staring at each other. Sorry, I was staring while he went through some papers, looking for a payment form most likely.
“You’re associating with an interesting menagerie these days,” he murmured in that voice which however soft still sent a ripple of alarm, panic, and probably attraction down my spine.
