Chapter 6
Chapter Six
With her wide-brimmed black hat perched on her head, Ember slipped her bat winged purse onto her arm, making sure her phone and keys were inside, grabbed her caramel coffee off the kitchen counter, and made her way toward the front door.
She opened the door, locked it from the inside, and was about to step over the threshold when she paused, looking over her shoulder at the extremely annoyed demon standing in the dark sitting room beyond the foyer.
Wisps of shadows swirled around him, obscuring his form, but his violet-blue eyes shone brightly within the surrounding darkness.
“Um, will other people see you?” she asked, not in the least bothered by his temper, which had taken a turn after she’d finished getting ready for the day. Something had ruffled him, and he’d clung to his anger since following her downstairs.
“No,” he replied through his teeth, “because I am not going out there.”
Ember rolled her eyes. “You are, because you’re apparently stuck with me, and I have to go to work.”
“Your mortal affairs are of no consequence to me. I will not traipse about on your errands while the sun is in the sky.”
“You said it yourself that you’re not a vampire, so you’ll be okay dealing with the sun for a little while. And whether you like it or not, you’re coming with me, because I have bills to pay. I can’t just laze about all month doing nothing like an insufferable, high-and-mighty demon.”
“I do not laze about doing nothing,” he grumbled.
“From what I heard, you’ve been moping for the last four hundred years.”
With a growl, he drew himself up straighter. His wings spread, his tail struck the floor, and the room darkened around him. “I will tolerate no further argument. You will not exit this dwelling, witch.”
Ember arched a brow. “Stop me.”
“You wouldn’t like that.”
She lifted her foot.
Nyte narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare.”
She gave him a saccharine smile. “I dare. Now let’s see if you can resist following me.”
Ember stepped outside, closing the door behind her. His curses were loud enough to hear clearly through the thick wood. Snickering to herself, she walked along the pathway leading to the sidewalk.
She’d made it to the wrought iron fence that surrounded her yard when Nyte suddenly appeared in front of her, looking angry as fuck.
He’s looking quite fuckable, too.
But he also looked…diminished. Just a touch insubstantial, like a shadow struggling to exist amidst too much light. Part of her brain insisted that if she were to reach out, her hand would go right through him.
It wouldn’t have been the strangest thing to happen over the last twelve hours.
Ember grinned at him. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”
“You are vexatious, witch.”
“I guess we’re a match made in heaven. Or hell.” She stepped closer and reached up to run a finger along his jaw. It didn’t pass through him. “You’re also quite sexy when you’re angry.”
Nostrils flaring, he huffed.
Dropping her hand, she moved around him and resumed walking.
She didn’t miss the odd looks she received from the nearby pedestrians.
Based on their expressions and how they were looking at her, Ember could only assume they couldn’t see Nyte, and she’d appeared to have been talking to empty air.
It didn’t bother her. This was Salem, where the strange was embraced.
She took a sip of her coffee.
At the corner of her eye, she saw Nyte walking beside her, matching his stride to hers. The irritation radiating from him was more palpable than the wisps of shadow it produced.
And not a soul so much as glanced in his direction.
“They can’t see you,” she said.
“I don’t find myself in a mood to be seen, currently.”
“So they could see you if you wanted them to? It’s not just because of our…tether that I can?”
“You can only see me now due to that binding. Otherwise, I can only be seen when I choose to be.”
Ember tapped her fingers against her insulated mug and peeked up at Nyte. His brows were angled down sharply, his eyes narrowed and staring straight ahead, and his mouth twisted in a scowl. Guilt seeped into her.
She didn’t like the fact that he was bound to her against his will, didn’t like that he was forced to suffer her presence. But what else could she do? She couldn’t sit at home for an entire month. She’d lose the house she just bought and risk losing her boutique on top of it.
“You’re…sure the sun doesn’t hurt you?” she asked.
“It is a mild nuisance, nothing more,” he replied tightly.
Ember nodded, hesitating before saying. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me. It’s not what I would have wanted either. I mean, it’s not that I don’t like you, I do, I really, really do, it’s just, well…”
“Neither of us was given a choice.” His voice was gentler than it had been since he’d first appeared in her room last night.
She glanced at him again. His features had also softened.
Maybe he doesn’t hate me so much, after all.
When they reached the first intersection, Ember stopped. A car with its windows rolled down drove by, music blaring, the bass thumping so powerfully that she felt it in her chest.
Beside her, Nyte waved a hand before his face as though warding off a foul odor. “So, those hideous things are conveyances. Do they all produce such obnoxious sounds and noxious odors when they move?”
“Some of them. You’ve never seen a car before?” she asked as they crossed the street, following the crosswalk.
“No. I’ve been away for a long while, as my dear sprite friend implied.”
“Away where?”
Jaw tight, he muttered an answer.
“What was that?”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “The Pit of Despair.”
“Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry.” She frowned. Starling had said Nyte had been suffering, but Ember hadn’t even considered it was because of depression. She hadn’t even known demons could get depressed. “Depression is hard to overcome.”
“Depression?” He scoffed and shook his head, giving her an incredulous look. “I wasn’t depressed, witch. I was in the Pit of Despair.”
She gaped at him. “Wait, what? That’s an actual place?”
“What did you think it was?”
“A figure of speech.”
“Mortals can be so foolish.”
“We’re not the ones with a place called the Pit of Despair. Is it in hell?”
“One of them. Now, do you have any further questions, or may I return to suffering this torturous daylight in relative silence?”
“Oh no, no, no. You’re not getting away with telling me there’s an actual Pit of Despair, in one of the hells, without telling me more. Why were you there?”
He dragged his tongue across his teeth. “Holiday.”
Ember snorted. “So you’re trying to tell me you were on vacation in the Pit of Despair? I know I don’t really know you, but my instinct is to call BS on that.”
One of Nyte’s dark brows arched. “BS?”
“Bullshit. I’m calling your bluff.”
“My affairs are my own, mortal, and are no concern of yours.”
“Okay, fair. How long was this holiday of yours? Curious about what kind of benefits demons get—”
“Four hundred years,” he grated through bared fangs.
Ember came to a halt, staring at him in utter shock. She didn’t even register the people walking past her.
That’s where Nyte had been for four hundred years? And he’d been suffering for all that time. What had been done to him? What had driven him there, and why had he stayed for so long? She highly doubted the Pit of Despair was a resort hotel given its name and location.
But it was clear that he didn’t want to talk about it, and she had pressed him enough. She’d have to set her curiosity aside and let him tell her in his own time, if he ever decided to do so.
Nyte slowly canted his head. “You have work to attend, do you not?”
Awareness came back to Ember, and she couldn’t be sure how long she’d stood there before she regained her composure. “Um, yeah.”
They continued onward for fifteen minutes without speaking as she sipped her coffee and caught glimpses of Nyte observing his surroundings.
The crowd had grown, especially in this part of town, where many tourist shops were located.
Ember’s boutique, Darkly Romantic, was tucked away off one of the main roads overlooking the harbor.
When they reached the door to her store, it was five minutes before ten.
Perfect timing.
She unlocked the door and stepped inside. After turning on the lights, she made her way to the counter, where she set down her coffee and tucked her purse away in a locked drawer at the bottom.
“This is your place of work?” Nyte asked.
Ember glanced up to see him wandering between the display tables and racks of clothing, his eyes roaming over the black and purple patterned walls.
She smiled as she looked around her store with pride.
Elaborate elaborate candelabra sconces, mirrors, and vines of roses decorated the walls, the shelves were filled with handbags, candles, incense, soaps, jewelry, and makeup, and the headless mannequins scattered throughout were adorned in some of the newly arrived attire.
The atmosphere was dark and romantic, living up to its namesake.
This place was everything she’d dreamed of.
“It is,” she said. “As a teen, I loved trying out different styles of clothing, and my favorite was this blend whimsical and dark. Flowing fabrics, long skirts, velvet and lace. But since I lived on a farm in the middle of nowhere, Nebraska, there were no stores like this anywhere. I had to put everything together myself. There was a lot of scraping together money to go thrifting and recycling old hand-me-down clothes. My classmates didn’t exactly appreciate my fashion sense. ”
Nyte swept his eyes over the mannequins and made a hum that sounded a hint more intrigued than dismissive. “What was their fashion sense?”
“For most of them, just practical clothing. Jeans and T-shirts, button downs, tennis shoes or sturdy boots. A lot of kids also lived and worked on family farms. But my style was what people call witchcore these days. Not really a popular trend back in my hometown.”
He arched a brow, settling his intense gaze upon her. “Witchcore.”
“I swear I didn’t know I was a witch! I still don’t believe I am one.” She wiggled her fingers at him, envisioning sparks flying from them. “See? Nothing.”
By his expression, he was neither impressed nor convinced. “And yet here we both stand.”
Ember lowered her hands and shrugged. “Doesn’t change the fact I didn’t know and didn’t summon you on purpose.” Looking down, she made sure her point of sale system was up and running before walking to the door and flipping the sign to OPEN.
“I…don’t blame you, mortal.” There was an odd hesitance in his voice that added sincerity to his words.
When she looked at Nyte, his back was to her as he drifted toward the small section of men’s attire.
He hadn’t been looking at her when he’d said those words, but hearing them relieved a pressure in Ember’s chest she hadn’t even realized had been there.
She felt like a weight had been lifted off her.
Though she’d done her best to remain positive in a situation that was beyond either of their control, she’d feared that he hated her for it…or that her innocent wish had brought about his torment.
“I’m not that bad to be around, am I?” she blurted, her face immediately heating.
His gaze flicked toward her. During his brief silence, that pressure returned to her chest, and the warmth in her cheeks intensified. There were so many scathing things he could’ve said in response, so many ways he could’ve cut her down, diminished her, destroyed her.
But when he finally replied, the two most unexpected words came from his mouth. “You’re not.”
Ember let out a long, slow, relieved breath.
So maybe a month in her presence wouldn’t be so bad for him, after all. A girl could hope, right?
He lifted a black poet’s shirt from the rack, dangling it from his finger by the hanger. “This looks somewhat closer to the popular fashion from when I last walked amongst your kind.”
Ember made her way toward him. She plucked a long, black button-up coat from a rack, took the shirt from him, and slipped the hanger within the coat, pairing the garments before holding them up to Nyte. She smiled. “You would look rather dashing in this.”
Nyte looked down at himself and flattened a hand against the clothes, pressing them to his body. The corner of his mouth quirked. “You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you? Seeing me dressed like a human?”
“I just think you’d look handsome in it.”
He raised his eyes to meet hers, and his brow furrowed. For the second time today, something softened in his face. She could almost feel it in the way he was looking at her—a hint of curiosity, tempered by lingering wariness.
The front door opened, and new voices accompanied the tinkling bell as customers entered.
Ember yanked the hangers away from Nyte, alarm flaring within her before she recalled that others couldn’t see him. He was smirking at her, a playful gleam in his otherworldly eyes.
“Behave,” she whispered before turning toward the customers. “Welcome to Darkly Romantic.”