Page 11 of A Date With Demons
She swallows. “Why is he here? Does he…watch?”
“I do not wish to watch,” Rewd says abruptly.
I lay it all out for her. “The two of us will do whatever you want us to do. So, tell us. What is it that you want? More than anything?”
“All I wanted was one perfect date. A party. Some dancing. To feel pretty. I want a man to be nice to me for once. And then, later…well, you know.”
My shriveled, cold heart cannot take any more of this.
I take a step closer, and she lets me. She doesn’t recoil, and so I reach out and cradle her face.
“I’m not psychic, but I don’t have to be. Someone hurt you.”
At this declaration, Rewd steps forward. “Who?”
Suddenly, he’s right on top of us, breathing heavily. Portia’s eyes are wide, and she is afraid and fascinated as she glances between Rewd and me.
“Tell me who hurt you so I may grind them into dust,” Rewd insists.
Portia begins to tremble as if in shock. “I made a mistake. I made a huge mistake over nothing. A stupid party.”
This is getting us nowhere. I only have 12 hours of freedom. It’s supposed to be as easy as wham, bam, thanks-for-letting-me-drain-your-life-force-ma’am. And yet, she’s terrified of both of us.
I wave my hand through the air in a downward motion.
Instantly, the witch’s eyelids blink slowly. “What’s happening?” Portia asks dreamily.
“Get ready to be human, big guy,” I say to Rewd.
The big demon grunts, “Huh?”
The air around us snaps, and we shift. For me, it’s as quick as a finger snap. For Rewd, the transformation sounds like bones breaking one by one. The process is only about ten seconds, but watching him go through the pain feels like an eternity.
Finally, we’re both humans. Well, human-ish. Turns out, we look like a couple of ripped gym bros with horns.
“Oh,” the witch gasps. “Oh. Wow.”
Portia sways on her feet, and I lunge forward, catching her before she falls.
Chapter
Six
Rewd
This dimension is cold.My new skin is vulnerable and thin. Useless in battle.
But I have to make the best of it.
At least in my human form, my horns no longer bang into the ceiling of this too-small attic.
I didn’t like the witch at first. And yet, now that Portia is calm, I see something intelligent in her eyes that interests me.
She’s not quite a person I would willingly jump through a swirling, twisting portal to get to. But Bragg jumped through the portal, and so did I.
I wish to know more about this world. And about this pretty witch.
Bragg says she smells like peaches, but all I detect is lilacs and something darker.