Page 21 of Devour

“We don’t run into each other often, and if we do, there’s never any attraction. That much I can confirm as an absolute certainty, not only with me, but also among the few I’ve met. We also naturally repel each other, so finding each other by chance is extremely unlikely. I guess if you think of us like magnets, we are on the same pole while humans are on the opposite. All of us feel attracted to all of you, but never to each other.”

“Why though?”

“I dunno. Might have to do with pheromones, but I can’t say for certain.”

Honestly, never would’ve considered that possibility. The way he explained it made enough sense for me to believe him—or at least believe, from the veracity of his words, that he imparted these facts to the best of his knowledge. Rhory had always been an open book, maybe even to compensate for how he could violate people’s privacy at his leisure.

“So, if you’re not spending money on a copious number of condoms, what are you wasting it on?”

“Whatever I want or need after the bills get paid.” Rhory shrugged. “Same as you, I guess.”

“Except I need groceries to survive, and you’re probably buying lube in bulk,” I teased again.

“What would I need that for?”

He said it so seriously, I almost couldn’t believe he was serious. “You’re kidding me.”

“No?”

Very few times did Rhory ever render me speechless. This was one of those times. Not only because I could not wrap my mind around his answer, but because Rhory, the most shameless being I ever—or possibly will ever—encountered, got the faintest flush over my shock.

“Maybe our bodies are more resilient than yours or something, I guess.”

“You guess?” I hysterically laughed.

“What else do you want me to say? You’re expecting me to explain something I never put any thought into until right now. Accommodating humans is one thing, but I never had to get any for myself.”

Clearly, some anatomical differences, and ones I couldn’t ponder too deeply. And, yes, I had some basis of comparison here. Not a lot, but some. Over the course of my freshman and sophomore years at college, I’d hooked up with the same guy a few times and somehow kept that cat in the bag. None of my friends knew then or now. Well, except Rhory.

While Rhory’s oversharing almost got me in trouble with myself a few times, his brute honesty made everything he said easier to believe—and easier for me to consider him a friend. That was part of the allure, I supposed. Through his own admission, Rhory could literally read my mind. I couldn’t lie to him even if I tried. Which meant, in a lot of ways, Rhory came to know me better than anyone else in my life ever had.

The forced honesty I experienced with him began as intrusive, then became extremely liberating. I knew things about him. He knew plenty about me. Things I had never even said aloud, never mind confessed. And around each other, we could be nothing short of ourselves, without having to keep any part of us in check or worry about judgment. Too bad the one being who knew my very soul also happened to be a soul-eating demon.

Was befriending a demon in my profession kind of messed up? Absolutely. Rhory was nothing more than a predator who learned to mimic his prey. And he did that frighteningly well. Would I be ending this friendship anytime soon? Absolutely not. Even though I shouldn’t feel that way, part of me enjoyed whenever Rhory hung around—as a friend, of course. And I needed friends.

Ember and I kept in touch after graduation, but she remained busy doing her thing while I did mine. Asher remained distant but cordial when we found ourselves forced to interact. Even though he hardly spoke, I would always consider him a friend. That didn’t mean I would be going out of my way to make it happen. Not anymore. If Asher wanted to be friends with me, he should do his share to repair our friendship. By the time we graduated, Rhory earned the title of my closest friend—in every way.

And I mean literally close. As in, I purposely chose off-campus housing so he could pop in occasionally for a midnight snack. This was one of those times, and despite the hour, we were both wide awake on my living room couch with something on the television casting more than enough light. Rhory’s whole body thrust forward and against mine while he straddled my lap, before his nose nuzzled against my jaw.

Despite being more clothed than usual, I couldn’t help but wonder if he selected some of these outfits to torture me. Cropped tops? And standard. Same went for snug pants or short shorts, and even boots. He even wore long sleeves on occasion, though mostly in sheer tops or even fishnets. But who wore corsets? Who? Rhory did. The kind that wrapped only around the waist and paired with one of those aforementioned sheer shirts.

With a fistful of hair in my grip, I peeled him away. He faced me with a smug and satisfied curve on his lips while licking at the air.

“You’ve had enough,” I said. And so have I.

“I’m still hungry.” He pouted to appear pathetic. It did not have the desired effect.

“You’re greedy.”

“I can be both,” he reasoned.

“Off. Now.”

Rhory grumbled to himself and slid down to the braided rug atop the hardwood floor, resting his cheek on my knee with his hair swept away from his eyes. He’d been gravitating to blues, first ocean blue, then teal. Indigo, which seemed a subtle choice for him, was his current hair color. It suited him, but I missed the red.

“Will you still let me visit you at the rectory, hubby?” His gaze remained nothing short of adoring, but if I knew one thing about my friend, he was not sentimental. Rhory still tried to charm me with affection, anyway. It still did not work.

“You just like saying rectory,” I dismissed with an eye roll.

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