Page 8 of Her Demon Mate

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Page 8 of Her Demon Mate

He takes a sip. “You know, a lot of the guys, they drink to forget,” he tells me. “I understand you’ve been doing a lot of that lately, but you never used to. Just ‘a nice bottle of paquir for the recruit. He likes the taste.’”

“Is this going somewhere?”

He takes another sip, this one much larger. “You might not have known it, but I’ve had my eyes on you since you got back. Seems like a pretty numb and hollow existence, if you ask me.”

“What do you know about it?”

“I know more than you’d think. Seems you’re taking after me in more ways than you’d care to admit.”

I smile and sit down at my glass, taking a seat at the table where he poured it.

Every muscle in my body is screaming at me to run. But I know what I committed to. And I know that there’s no easy way out of it, short of dying or serving the rest of my time.

“Oh, mercy of the gods,” he says, sitting down across from me. “I really didn’t want to have to invoke your mother. I’m so glad you didn’t make me do it.”

“It’s not easy coming back,” I tell him.

He clicks his teeth, looking awkwardly around the table.

“Well, I wish I had something better to tell you, but I don’t. We all do our time. And it seems like your number’s come up.”

“So what is it then? Has the ceasefire come to an end? Are we bringing the fight back again?”

“Not exactly.”

I watch him, the glyph tattoos swirling on his arm. Looking at them, I think I recognize the jade constellation that comes to life on his forearm, his dress shirt unbuttoned neatly to reveal his swollen muscles.

I used to think he was kind of a killer with the ladies. I used to envy the life he had.

Now? Not so much.

“Well, are you going to tell me?”

I can see the night sky through the decrepit windows of the barracks. These are not ideal conditions to have a private conversation, but Gel’ged has always struck me as nostalgic.

He takes a deep breath. “I’ll just launch into it, I guess. Like the old days. You stop me when I’ve lost you.”

I nod.

“So the embassy…”

“Stop.”

“That quick, huh?”

I size him up. His spiraling black horns almost blend into the dim light of the room.

He hunches when he’s lying, his horns sinking toward the ground. And right now, he’s sitting as erect as a gilak cock.

“I’m going to let you keep going in a second,” I tell him. “But first, answer me this. Why me?”

A crooked smile forms across his scarred violet face.

“You’re the only one I trust,” he says. “That, and the other guys aren’t so easy to find anymore.”

“What, did they desert?”

“Nah. Their lives are just more interesting. Less predictable.”




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