Page 56 of The Demon in Him

My only sense that time had passed was the sunlight that broke through the warehouse, scattering across the floor and highlighting the debris, and now, the blood as it went.

“Someone is going to think there was a murder here.” Frank’s voice penetrated through the air and assaulted my eardrums. I hurt—everything hurt. The ache was all-consuming, but when I lifted my hand in front of my face, I could release a sigh of relief that it was back to human form. The cuts and bruises wouldn’t take too long to heal, but I embraced the pain while I felt it.

Penance.

I took a quick mental scan of my body—maybe a couple of broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, but mostly cuts and bruises. It’s possible the cuts were self-inflicted in my frenzy, and I didn’t even care about that. Lying on my side on the dusty floor, I huffed out a breath and groaned before lifting myself into a sitting position. Frank gave me only the briefest warning, “This is going to hurt.” As he grabbed my arm and my neck, he roughly shoved my shoulder back into place. I roared and snarled and, on a lingering instinct, swiped at him. Frank simply grabbed my hand as I attacked him and pulled me to my feet.

Rolling my shoulder, it was back in position, and I glared at Frank as he returned to his phone, typing out a text.

“Is Charlotte mad you were out all night?” I asked.

“Nah,” Frank said, finishing the message and shoving the phone back into his pocket. There wasn’t much left of his shirt, and his black pants were so covered in dust they were almost white, darkened when our blood seeped through the fabric. “She understands, certainly more than she did last time.”

Images appeared of Charlotte against the wall as I rushed her, on the edge and out of control, and how she’d whimpered when I’d pressed my body against hers seconds before Frank had ripped me away. When I had lost control, Charlotte had witnessed a demon at his most dangerous only shortly after discovering Frank’s true nature. It must have been a lot for her, and I didn’t need the reminder of the fear in her eyes. Fear I had caused.

I grumbled my acknowledgment, not in the mood to be reminded of my past indiscretions so soon after this one.

“How are you feeling?”

I stared at Frank, assuming he could only be asking about my physical condition. “I’m back in control.” Then after a beat, added, “Thank you.”

His eyes narrowed, and he spun on his heel and walked toward the exit. I followed, shoving my hands in what was left of my pants pockets, otherwise naked, my shirt having been shredded beyond saving. There was no danger in leaving our clothes and blood in the warehouse. The police couldn’t classify or identify demon blood or DNA anyway.

Frank took a few turns around corners as I followed him, and I arched an eyebrow but said nothing. This was not the most direct way home, nor to his car which he had left at the hospital last night. Maybe he’d sent one of his lackeys to pick up the vehicle, and he was in the mood for a walk, but Frank rarely did anything without intent.

When we continued in silence, I finally asked, “Where are we going?”

“I’m going to show you something.” And that was all he offered.

We turned a few more corners until it became apparent that Frank was randomly moving. He was looking for something, but he didn’t seem to know where it was. My frustration grew, and he shushed me whenever I tried to ask. This was the worst end of the city, and I didn’t spend a great deal of time here, so I had no idea what he might be trying to find.

There was a scuffle and a muffled cry, and Frank’s arm shot out and slammed across my chest, halting my movements as he tilted his head. Pressing his fingers to his lips, he beckoned for me to follow him, and when we rounded one last corner, there was a group of youth, men and women, surrounding a young woman who was pressed against the wall, whimpering as they chuckled at her distress.

“I think she likes it,” one of the women in the group said, laughing. She had an almost permanent scowl on her face, but her joy at their victim’s discomfort was evident in her eyes, bright with passion. I sniffed the air—humans—they were all humans, no scent of a demon near here. Glancing at Frank, I wondered how much longer he planned to watch this display without intervening. It wouldn’t be the first time. I’d known him to interrupt muggings and attempted rapes on his way back from the fight club, acting as some sort of demon vigilante and brushing it off like it was no big deal. I liked that he looked out for humans, although I didn’t always approve of the violence.

Although recently, I’d started to see the merit in its use as a control form for our demons.

Maybe I’d get him a cape just to fuck with him.

The group laughed again, and when one of the men approached the woman pressed against the wall and snaked his hand up her thigh, riding her skirt up, Frank shouted a simple, “Hey!”

The group turned, and I can’t imagine that two men with shredded clothes would have been the most intimidating sight if it weren’t for the addition of the blood and dust. The attackers stopped, assessing the threat as they backed away from their victim, and Frank lifted a lip in a scowl.

“Which one of you is going to serve as an example to the others?” he asked.

There was laughter again, albeit with much less enthusiasm. One of the larger men stepped forward, and the realization dawning in his eyes the closer he got to Frank and the difference in their size became apparent was, I’ll admit, entertaining. But it was too late. He had singled himself out as the leader and to back down now would lose him credibility with his peers. The man shuffled his feet, lifting his fists in front of his face, showing he was ready to fight.

He couldn’t be ready for Frank.

Frank snatched out at him, grabbing his throat and lifting him from his feet. The move took little to no effort, and the protests from the man’s group were only verbal, no one keen enough to step forward and get involved. Frank pulled the man close to his face, and his tongue darted out, wetting his lips in anticipation.

He let his eyes slide to yellow, and the man panicked, grabbing Frank’s arm and trying to leverage himself free of the grasp while gasping for air.

“Behave…” Frank growled, letting the dual tone of demonic power creep into his voice, “… or next time I’ll kill you all. This city ismycity, do you understand?”

The man choked out a reply, though I couldn’t tell what it was. Frank repositioned his feet and launched the man over his group and down the alley. The group turned and ran, one of the men and one of the women stopping to lift their now-unconscious comrade and dragging him away. Frank turned to the victim, but she squealed in fright and grabbed her purse from the ground, keeping her head down and fleeing, brushing past me as she went.

Frank stood, arms crossed over his impressive chest, watching me.

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