Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Daruka
The jury was still out whether making a pit stop in Arrythmia was better than looking over my shoulder every ten seconds, hoping Dad’s goons hadn’t found me.
Mostly, that was because of Asmoday—and my annoying attraction to him.
I understood it, on a basic level. He was a lust demon, and I was, well, in his orbit. Which was all it took for lust demons to trigger one’s desires, however latent they may have been previously.
What I didn’t understand was why no one else in town seemed to be affected by his existence. At least, not lustfully.
After parking my stolen vehicle next to the curb, I reluctantly followed Asmoday down the sidewalk, passing all those bright Valentine’s Day decorations as well as a blue genie sweeping the stoop of a mercantile store, a minotaur behind the bar at a pub, (who waved at us through the stained glass window), a clothing boutique run by a mummy with very stylish bandages, and an ice cream shop where a yeti stood out front offering samples of his newest flavor, Himalayan honeycomb.
In each instance, the other person was friendly toward Asmoday but showed no outward signs of attraction.
Meanwhile, I was as hot as a campfire that had been loaded with seasoned wood and stoked for hours. All I wanted to do was shed this heavy hoodie, except I was wearing only a tank top underneath, and my nipples were as hard as stone, stabbing at the thin material.
So no go on the hoodie shedding.
When we reached our destination, Asmoday paused on the sidewalk, presumably for me to take in the details. Because…wow.
It was an old antebellum-style house nestled among the various businesses right here on Main Street.
The exterior was whitewashed brick like most of the other buildings, although this one was detailed with white pillars running along the gigantic porches on the bottom level and the second story.
Ferns hung between each of the pillars, again on both levels.
There were cozy seating areas with cushioned chairs and small wicker tables in between.
Ceiling fans twisted gently on both levels.
There were red twinkle lights nestled into the ferns and draped along the porch railing. Two red hearts hung on the double front doors where wreaths normally would be.
The setup basically begged me to curl up on one of those chairs with a cup of coffee—or a lovely glass of wine—and watch the world meander by.
So not my scene. And yet, strangely intriguing.
“Ready to see the inside?” Asmoday murmured from beside me. He probably hadn’t intended for the question to sound erotic, yet here we were.
I shook my head in a vain attempt to clear it and said, “Yeah, sure.”
The damn lust demon chuckled as he led me up onto the porch and through the front door.
I presumed, na?vely, that the inside would be set up like a hotel.
A lobby, maybe a restaurant and bar off to the side, individual rooms upstairs.
This town wasn’t that big, and I couldn’t imagine they got an influx of wayward monsters at any given time, so he probably needed only a handful of rooms to rent.
This was not what I was presented with when I stepped into the building.
The huge entry had sleek hardwood floors with an Oriental rug in the middle.
A sparkling chandelier hung from the ceiling two stories up.
There was a mirror to my left, with an antique sideboard underneath, where a tray of crystal glasses and a matching dispenser were parked.
Someone had handwritten fresh squeezed lemonade in beautiful calligraphy onto a tiny tented sign sitting in front of the dispenser.
Red paper hearts were scattered across all the horizontal surfaces as if they had rained down from the ceiling.
A massive staircase directly in front of me beckoned us up to the second story. Two French doors to the left offered a peek into what looked like a living room or maybe a parlor. To the right, another set of French doors, this time leading to a formal dining room.
“This is…”
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Asmoday finished for me.
Beautiful wasn’t adequate enough, but I didn’t say as much.
“Come on, I’ll show you the bedroom level first. I currently have full availability, so you can choose your room.”
I followed him up the stairs, biting my lip to keep from biting that entirely too firm ass that shifted and moved under the smooth leather of his pants. “You have no occupants right now?”
“My most recent guests just left this morning. A group of griffins. They kept clashing with the dragon who owns the jewelry store and ultimately decided they were ready to move on. Planning to settle in the Rockies, as I understand it.”
The first bedroom he showed me had buttery soft yellow walls and a canopy bed with lace draped over the top and gauzy curtains I could close around me at night. I had never thought of myself as girlie as that room implied, but I couldn’t deny I wanted to snuggle up in that bed.
The next bedroom had pale pink walls, a giant bed I’d need a step stool to get into, and a door leading out onto the second-story porch. There was also a soaking tub in the en suite bathroom, parked in front of a floor-to-ceiling window with shutters covering the bottom half.
I admit, I was itching to get into that tub. I’d seen nothing more than creeks with trickles of water in them since crossing the line between Louisiana and Texas, and my body was screaming for a bath.
The fact that I hadn’t had a bath that involved soap in three days may be playing a factor in my urges.
Asmoday showed me several more bedrooms, all decorated slightly differently, all with access to the porch, all with private bathrooms, most with tubs, although one had a shower only.
Considering my body automatically shifted into mermaid form when more than a sprinkle of water touched it, that shower would not do.
“Or,” he said when we paused at the end of the hall in front of a set of pocket doors that hid whatever was inside, “you can stay here.”
He threw open the doors, revealing a distinctly masculine room with a nautical feel.
Sunshine poured in through two sets of French doors leading out onto the second-story porch.
A caddy stood sentry between the doors, upon which sat a variety of liquor bottles, cut crystal lowball glasses, and an ice bucket.
I spotted a leather vest lying on the navy-and-white striped comforter and narrowed my eyes. “You live here?”
He shrugged. “Of course I do. I have to be accessible to my guests.”
I ground my teeth. I did not need to know how accessible he was. “Is this really the only hotel in town?”
“It is,” he confirmed.
I sighed. “I’ll take a room at the other end of the hall.”
I went with the second one from the end. The one with the soaker tub in front of the windows.
He produced a skeleton key, silently offering it to me. I tried to snatch it from his palm with as little direct contact as possible, but even that slight brush of my fingernails against his skin was enough to make me start sweating again.
And shit, there was smoke swirling up from my fingers. I quickly tucked them behind my back. Damn it. The only time my body reacted like that was when my emotions were heightened.
I inched away from Asmoday.
“I can probably dig up some clothes that will get you by temporarily,” he said conversationally, as if he had no clue how desperately I wanted to climb him like a koala.
“And when you’re ready, I can take you over to the boutique and introduce you to Queenie.
She’s the proprietor and truly has an eye for fashion. ”
“I can find her myself, thanks.” I needed to put space between us before I really did enact that whole koala fantasy.
“Honestly, it would be best if I accompanied you, at least until everyone becomes comfortable with your presence. There are a great many residents here who are leery of strangers, for various reasons.”
Well, hell. I of all people understood that leeriness. I’d been afraid of interacting with strangers since my twentieth birthday. And it only got worse after Mom died. I hadn’t realized how much she’d protected me, guided me, loved me. Until she was gone.
“Why do you look so melancholy?” Asmoday asked. There was no teasing in his tone, and the look on his face was only concern.
“No reason,” I muttered, because I sure as hell wasn’t opening up to a virtual stranger, especially not one I was almost uncontrollably attracted to. “I’m going to take a bath. If you leave the clothes here”—I pointed at the floor in front of the door to my room—“I’ll grab them when I get out.”
“Of course,” he said solemnly, and I was wholly unsurprised when I finished my bath and found a stack of clothes perched on the foot of the bed. I struggled to be angry when I found he’d also left a plastic-wrapped toothbrush and a comb.
The sensation of brushing my teeth and combing out the snarls in my hair caused by multiple dips into various bodies of water over the last three days was damn near euphoric.
I checked myself in the mirror and saw a woman staring back at me wearing a black leather vest that barely covered her generous breasts, and a pair of leather pants that were loose enough to be comfortable.
But, as it turned out, leather was very complimentary to one’s figure, however curvy it may be.
I looked like a female version of Asmoday. Who, by the way, looked like a goth model.
Maybe there was a back way to the boutique? I wasn’t sure I should go out in public in this getup, and certainly not with Asmoday by my side.
He waited for me in the foyer. As I descended the stairs, I tugged self-consciously on the hem of the admittedly buttery soft vest. The purple flame in his eyes flared.
I swallowed down the heat roaring once again through my body. At least I didn’t smell like incense anymore.
Yet.
“You are hot,” he proclaimed.