Chapter 4 #3
“Companion, slave, what’s the difference?” He tugged at the collar around his neck, the spikes still poking against his skin. “I do not accept it, Mistress.”
“It’s Elsie. And no, true companions aren’t slaves. They’re with their chosen reapers of their own free will,” she reiterated. “We don’t have to accept their demands. I have a plan.”
“Oh, do tell,” the sarcasm dripped from his voice.
“After we shower. There’s blood and sand in my hair, and you smell like you haven’t washed in months,” she said, then bit her tongue and suppressed a groan when his look turned scathing. Did she have to be such an insensitive twat?
“I haven’t been afforded the opportunity.”
“Sorry, that was rude. I’m too used to joking around with my squad.
I’ll show you where to go. You’ll have to use the men’s, there are no co-ed showers in our area.
You’ll be fine on your own, right?” she questioned.
He acted with bravado now, but the fear he’d displayed earlier stayed in her mind.
“You’re not going to try running off or start a fight with someone? ”
He scoffed, but she felt the flash of nervousness underlying the attitude. Elsie glared at him, but she wasn’t ready to have that argument. She’d get to it after cleaning up. The demon wouldn’t stop throwing his emotions at her, and she was already getting sick of it.
“I think I liked you better as a dog,” she muttered.
“That’s because a dog can’t talk back.”
“What’s your name?” Elsie asked, ignoring the jab.
“Names are for friends. Something we will never be.” Giving her his name was like giving her a piece of himself. It was something he had control over. He didn’t trust her with his identity, but she’d figure out how to earn his trust eventually.
“I’ll come up with something to call you on my own then,” she threatened, but he shrugged as though he couldn’t be bothered by her stupid game.
“Come up with anything you want, it won’t change a thing.”
“Anything I want?” Elsie smirked. She opened the door, motioning him out. “What about Daisy?”
“I happen to like daisies,” he replied, following her down the hall.
“Most men would hate being called after a flower, they’d find it an insult to their manhood,” Elsie informed him. “It’s not masculine enough.”
He paused for a second, then leaned over her, his face uncomfortably close, dark eyes locking on hers.
“Improve the quality of men you spend your time with. They sound weak.” The heat of his breath brushed her cheek.
She swallowed hard, and he gave her a hollow, wicked grin, hinting that there was something more than pure malice behind those eyes. It only lasted for the count of two seconds before the seriousness returned. He pulled back, waiting for her to lead the way.
He hadn’t touched her; he hadn’t even tried, but Elsie had a hard time convincing her hammering heart of that fact. She hadn’t been frightened or angry. She’d wanted to get closer, which was insane. Clearly the lack of sleep was making her think like a crazy person.
Elsie shoved a towel against his chest before pointing to the pin on her lapel. “Let’s get this rule straight right now. If you ever touch me, I will put you down,” she warned, but she was shaken. Nobody disrespected her personal space like that.
“There it is, the first death threat. Didn’t take you too long.
You’re so predictable it’s almost boring.
Don’t worry, Mistress. I’ve no desire to touch you.
” He stared down at her imperiously. “There’s something you should also ‘get straight.’ You are my enemy.
There will never be peace between us, and I will never be your friend. ”
Elsie nodded woodenly. She’d blown another chance to build trust with him. He was right. He wasn’t beholden to her, and that wouldn’t change.
She pointed at a door. “We’ll continue this conversation when we aren’t standing in a public space.
The men’s showers are through there. I’ll be in the women’s next door.
If anyone gives you any trouble, let them know you belong to Captain Chantraine.
They’ll leave you alone, or I’ll put them down. ”
“Do you have a skirt I can hide behind, too?” The demon rolled his eyes, but she felt it again.
The apprehension hidden behind his anger. She let it go for now, not ready for a therapy session with a demon who wouldn’t even share his name.
“If you finish before I do, wait for me here. Marko didn’t give us an extra key to my room.”
She headed toward the ladies’ room, glancing back before opening the door. He stood rooted to the spot, watching her go. Elsie paused, guessing at the problem he wouldn’t admit he had.
“Clairemont lives with the other staff members. These rooms are for squad captains only. Go enjoy your shower.”
His relief washed over her so heavily she nearly lashed out at him. Having a front-row seat to his inner turmoil was getting old fast. But before she could say anything, his eyes hardened with resolution. He walked into the men's room, shoulders hunched and moving in a slinking, sneaking motion.
“Ridiculous,” she muttered, resolving to come up with a name so obnoxious he’d have to tell her who he was.