Page 7 of His Infernal Purr
“Demons don’t say ‘thank you,’” I inform him haughtily. “We repay debts.”
“Well, consider any debt repaid by not eating my soul or whatever it is you usually do.”
I study him more carefully. Despite his obvious shock and confusion, there’s a remarkable lack of fear in his eyes. Caution, yes. Disbelief, certainly. But not terror.
“You’re not afraid of me,” I observe.
He shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Hard to be terrified of someone after you’ve seen them get stuck in an empty tissue box and run around the apartment with it on their head.”
My eyes narrow. “We agreed never to speak of that incident.”
“No, YOU decided that. I never agreed to anything.” His smile widens. “Plus, you’re still wrapped in my Star Wars blanket.”
I glance down at the fabric around my waist, noticing for the first time the tiny spaceships printed on it. How undignified.
With a gesture, I transform the blanket into a more appropriate garment—flowing black robes embroidered with ancient demonic symbols, befitting my station.
“Impressive,” Finn acknowledges. “Can you do that with anything? Because my coffee table could really use an upgrade.”
And just like that, the tension in the room shifts. This ridiculous human is… bantering with me? After discovering I’m a demon lord?
“Your furniture is the least of your concerns,” I point out. “Valefar now knows where I am, and he won’t be pleased that his curse was broken.”
“So these demons might come back? With this Vale-whatever?”
“Valefar. And yes, it’s possible.”
Finn sighs, dropping onto the couch. “Great. Demon home invasion. Just what my week needed.”
I find myself strangely reluctant to leave him in potential danger. After all, he did protect me at great risk to himself. There’s a debt to be paid.
That’s the only reason I’m hesitating. Professional integrity. Nothing more.
“I could…” I begin, then pause, considering my words carefully. “I could offer you protection. Temporarily. Until Valefar loses interest.”
Finn looks up at me, surprise evident in his features. “You’d do that? Why?”
“As I said, demons repay debts. You broke my curse. I ensure your safety.” I say this with appropriate haughtiness, as befits my station.
“Huh.” He studies me with those penetrating hazel eyes, and I have the uncomfortable feeling he’s seeing more than I intend to reveal. “So you’d… what? Hang around like some kind of demonic bodyguard?”
“I would maintain a protective presence, yes.”
“Where would you even stay? You’re seven feet tall with huge wings. My apartment isn’t exactly built for that.”
I glance around the modest space. “I could alter my appearance to something more… compatible with human dwellings. Not the cat form,” I add hastily, seeing his expression. “Something humanoid but less conspicuous than my true form.”
Finn leans back, running a hand through his hair again—a gesture I’ve noticed he makes when thinking. “This is insane. I’m considering having a demon roommate.”
“Duke of Hell,” I correct automatically. “And it would be a temporary arrangement.”
He laughs again, shaking his head. “You know what? Why not. My life was getting too predictable anyway.”
Before I can respond, he stands and approaches me—slowly, but without hesitation. I watch, curious, as he stops directly in front of me, looking up to meet my gaze.
“But if we’re doing this, we need some ground rules. One, no demonic stuff around my patients. Two, no threatening my friends or clients. Three…” He pauses, then offers his hand. “I want to know your actual name. Not your title—your name.”
I stare at his extended hand, this peculiar human gesture. In all my millennia, no mortal has ever asked for my name this way—as an equal, offering connection rather than seeking to command or control.
