Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Opening the door to my apartment was like opening my door to sleep away summers at camp. I was immediately hit with the smoky, sweet smell of burning wood. It was powerful and overwhelming and reminded me of s’mores. And I knew staring was rude but I just couldn’t help myself.
For a moment, I completely lost myself in the red of his eyes.
Not contact lenses but deep crimson irises that were strong and piercing and seemed to cut right through me.
God, they are hypnotising. He had on a similar outfit to the one he had on before, instead of a black collared shirt, he was wearing a black long-sleeve that hugged his body.
I wasn’t sure if it was some otherworldly demon-thing, but up close, he was taller and broader than I’d noticed before, as if that were fucking possible.
I stared up at him, watching how the orange light highlighted his defined cheekbones and the brown freckles that covered his nose and cheeks.
But once again, it was his red hair that had my stomach in knots.
In a completely immature and totally inappropriate lapse of judgement, I let my eyes roam over the raging inferno before his eyes fell on mine.
He towered over me, stilling me with an unreadable expression that I could only infer as indifference.
“If you’re done staring, I’d like to get this over and done with.” He reached a hand, one devoid of any ashen colour or claws, through the door and unhooked the deadbolt before letting the door swing open. It creaked at its hinges, startling me slightly as he stepped into the room.
I don’t know what I was expecting from a demon, but this man was utterly beautiful.
Where I’d expected to feel terror or fear or, at the very least, mild discomfort, I found nothing.
My body didn’t react to him the way my body usually reacted to uncomfortable and strange situations.
Which is to say, it did react to him, it really did, it just didn’t cower away.
I stepped back into my apartment, my legs shaking slightly as he stalked toward me.
The room suddenly felt incredibly hot, like my asshole landlord had miraculously decided to fix the heating after months of not doing anything at all.
No instinctual flinches or intrusive thoughts.
My heart continued to beat uncontrollably but no alarms went off in my head.
His, Thallor’s, eyes took in every inch of my apartment.
I don’t know why I suddenly felt self-conscious, but I did.
His eyes moved from the myriads of plants that littered my living room to the assortment of crystals and candles that adorned my shelves.
He closed the door behind him, taking a deep breath with his back turned.
A series of high-pitched meows echoed from my bedroom that had Thallor slowly turning toward me.
I flashed him a sheepish, awkward smile before stepping backward into the circle of salt I had just used to summon him.
He muttered something under his breath before taking in the mess that scattered the floor.
I wanted to apologise for the state of my apartment, but from how he looked down at me, I felt like all that would have done was annoy him further.
He continued to glare at me. No, not at me, Past me.
His eyes widened slightly, and I turned to follow his gaze to where the cock shaped candle was lying askew on the floor next to three strands of burnt hair and a tiny trinket filled with water.
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
“I wasn’t sitting on it!” I said a little too loudly.
I regretted the words as soon as they’d left my lips.
I wanted to drown in the heat that crept up the back of my neck and onto my cheeks.
I didn’t have the words or social expertise to explain the situation.
This was, hands down, the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to me, and in front of a demon no less.
As far as my soul was concerned, I could likely expect an infinite lifetime of punishment for this and this alone.
Dear universe, if you can hear me, it’s my time. I’m ready for you to swallow me up whole. Preferably now, before he says anything else.
“You summoned me using a phallus?” A flicker of indignation cut across his face.
And in the dim lighting of my apartment, it was hard to make out anything else.
But by his steadying breath, I could tell he was as caught off guard as I was about the situation.
I was sure if I squinted hard enough, I could have probably made out a dappling of pink creeping up his cheeks.
“Oh god,” I groaned, dropping my face to my hands. “It was the only black candle I had. I didn’t realise the ritual had worked the first time.”
“Unbelievable,” Thallor bit out, voice cold enough to cool the aggressive blush still coursing up the side of my face. He stared at me for a few beats before pointing to the stool at my breakfast table. “Sit.” Not a question. A command.
I might have been painfully awkward, but I wasn’t a fucking doormat.
Under normal circumstances, I probably would have argued.
I would have told him that I wasn’t a trained puppy and that he didn’t just get to tell me what to do.
Even if there was a chance of getting a treat at the end of it…
or an orgasm. Before I could protest, my legs moved of their own volition and I found myself at the breakfast bar again, looking up at him with my thighs clamped shut because my thoughts were no better than those of a teenage boy.
“What is your name?”
“Quincey.”
“Quincey, what?”
“Quincey Sterling.” God, I really hoped that saying my name hadn’t somehow sealed my fate.
Even for a demon, that would be a shitty way to form a pact or treaty with someone.
I needed to know what I was getting myself into because it was clear that I didn’t have a fucking clue.
I racked my head through everything I’d learnt over the last few years.
Over everything I knew about the occult.
I think it was fine to give him my name. I mean, I hope it—
“Where did you get this book?” he asked, holding it up.
The look he gave me was horrible. Disdainful.
It was like he was trying to take me apart piece by piece until there was nothing left.
It was as if I had done something heinous to him, and all he could do was glare at me and hope I would wither and die under the weight of his stunning red eyes.
As much as I didn’t want to, I cringed slightly under the weight of his gaze, dropping my hands to my nail polish and using my thumb to pick at the lilac gels I’d gotten the previous week. “I found it,” I said quietly, not bothering to look up at him.
“Found it where?”
What was the best way to describe Hugh’s Oddity Vault? How could I explain that the book had called to me and Hugh had sold it to me for pennies? Neither was probably necessary to the story nor relevant to his question. “I found it on the shelf of an antique shop.”
“Pitiful. This whole thing is…” he trailed off, murmuring to himself. It was as if he couldn’t bring himself to finish the words. He couldn’t bring himself to tell me what I already saw so plainly painted on his face.
“Were your horns real then?” I asked, for better or for worse. “You don’t really look like a demon.”
“What?” he growled, settling me with a gaze that had me gripping the corner of the breakfast table to stop my hands from shaking.
Smoke. The smell of it coiled around me as he leaned in close.
His eyes did not wander from mine but the reds of his eyes grew darker.
Definitely not contacts then. It was like he was frustrated and angry and everything else in between.
I shifted my gaze slightly, noticing the single golden hoop that pierced the top of his ear.
God, that’s hot. “Enlighten me, human. What does a demon really look like?”
I don’t know, not like you.
“I don’t… I… Sorry,” I said quietly. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
He rolled his eyes and scoffed, flashing me with a clear view of sharp, white fangs. “Let’s just get this over with. I have no intention of being in your world,” he spat the words as if they tasted rancid. Rotten, “any longer than I need to be. Tell me why you summoned me?”
I grimaced. That was a difficult question to answer.
One I hadn’t quite rationalised out for myself.
This was one of those “improbable moments” I’d never thought would happen, so I had never truly prepared for it.
I mean, for all intents and purposes, this whole thing had been a last-ditch effort to see if I could save my grandmother’s life.
But the last thing I was going to do was spill my depressing life story to a demon who couldn’t give less of a shit about me or my problems.
“Just to see if it would work.”
“‘Just to see if it would work,’” he repeated, disbelief audible in his voice. “You humans are so fucking entitled.”
In that moment, I wanted to take back everything I’d said before.
Thallor might not have looked like a demon, but he had the presence of one.
He was scary. Terrifying. And probably could have killed without so much as a second glance.
And I was scared. Petrified. He took a step closer to me, and I reared back, almost knocking myself off the chair.
I instinctively grabbed out for something to steady me, once again finding my hands on his body.
I let go almost instantly. The heat of his skin was so hot, I could feel the lingering brand of pain at the pads of my fingers and the palm of my hand.
For a moment, he just stared down at the point on his forearm that I’d grabbed, whilst I stared down at my hand.
Then he settled me with a look, more angered, more furious than before, as if I had burnt him and not the other way around.