Page 79 of The Demon's Pet

Wrapping the sheets around me, I got up to go over to the door, which I opened.

Sam wasn’t there.

I peeked down the hall to see him striding toward the front door of the tiny house, his shoulders straight and strong.

Had he really just been dirty talking behind the door?

Had he been… helping me?

He turned back to face me, and his expression was cool and calm, a light gleam in his eyes the only sign that something in him was still burning.

Just like, despite all the pleasure of my orgasm, something was burning in me.

Something that wouldn’t be satisfied until we were together, and it felt like both of us knew it.

“I’m going out,” Sam said. “You get some rest.” He put his arms out, and a black coat appeared on him, a trench that went to his knees. He reached in one of the pockets and pulled something out, which he put on a small table by the door. “Here, your void sack. It has your books and clothing.”

I took the small black sack, which felt silky despite looking like it was made of coarse fabric. I wondered where he’d gotten it, since it seemed related to the kind of creature in the cage outside.

But I doubted he’d put up with me asking him about it right now.

He opened the door to leave.

“Wait, Sam—”

He paused, staring at me with those unfathomable eyes, abyssal darkness with a golden ring.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said. “Don’t leave the house.”

“But you didn’t even eat,” I said, taking a step toward him.

His eyes raked me, a familiar wickedness flaring there. The corner of his lips turned up. “Yes, I did.” Then he turned and left, his coat flapping behind him.

I walked back to my room with the void sack, both glad and infuriated that he’d given me time to read.

Already, I felt both nervous and excited for his return.

Something had happened between us. Something that couldn’t be reneged on. And when he got back, I was going to get to the bottom of just what was going on.

18

There was a small bathroom attached to my bedroom, with a small porcelain bathing tub and an ornate showerhead attached.

It was easy enough to work, probably because these houses were for those used to human plumbing.

It felt good to be clean, but the entire time I rinsed off, every square inch of my skin just felt too aware that Sam hadn’t touched it.

And my mind was obsessed with replaying those moments he’d been outside my door, “helping” me.

Why had he done that? To keep his word?

All I knew was that it had been the most amazing feeling I’d ever experienced.

I opened the void sack and dumped the contents on my bed, watching dozens of books and several outfits fall out. I smiled as I sorted through the clothes.

None of them were mine, but Sam clearly had rifled through my drawers enough to know the kind of things I liked.

There were black combat boots, black jeans, and shirts with funny pictures and comments like the ones I enjoyed hunting at the thrift store for used human goods.

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