He’d meant it when he said he’d destroy me. He’d done exactly that. I was sore, high on the afterglow, eyes half-lidded as I lay there and stared at the coffee table. I’d never be able to look at that thing the same way again.
It was my sacrificial altar, the shrine on which I’d offered up my sins to a demon to eat.
“Raelynn.”
I jumped half-way into a sitting position, only to groan at the head rush it gave me. I hadn’t even heard him approach. He’d dressed, and as I leaned back on the couch, he held out a plate and a steaming mug.
“Tea and cookies?” I took it as he offered them, blinking rapidly in shock. He’d made my favorite mint tea — not that he could have possibly known it was my favorite — and stacked three chocolate chip cookies on the plate.
He sunk down on the opposite side of the couch, looking wearier than I’d ever seen him. Our fuckfest must have taken the last of his strength; even the golden glow of his eyes was dulled. “You’ve lost a lot of calories, sweated out vital nutrients. You may experience minor shock symptoms from the adrenaline.” He sighed heavily, waving his hand as if it should have been obvious. “If I’d known you hadn’t eaten anything yet today…”
I frowned around a mouthful of cookie. He was absolutely right, of course. I was shaky, and my stomach was churning with hunger pains. “How do you know I haven’t eaten?”
I didn’t get an answer. When I glanced up at him again, his head had nodded down to his chest and he was fast asleep, breathing slowly.
Damn. I guess I’d destroyed him too.
Leon never would have admitted it, but it was obvious to me — he’d pushed himself to his limit. I didn’t know how many of those Eld beasts were out there, but he’d killed three and fought off even more. His mysterious demon powers didn’t heal wounds instantly, and his injuries were alarming, to say the least. Running around with wounds like that wasn’t healthy, demon or not.
But now I had a demon sleeping on my couch. It was either a paranormal investigator’s wet dream or worst nightmare. After I eased him down onto a pillow and threw a blanket over him, I did what any proper investigator would: I got out my camera. I snapped photos of his claws, the black veins still barely visible in his arms, the slight point to his ears that I hadn’t noticed before beneath his hair.
He was softer in his sleep. The monstrous energy with which he carried himself was calm. Despite the claws, he somehow seemed more human than ever. Quiet. Vulnerable.
Vulnerable. Ha. As if he actually was. I couldn’t let myself underestimate him: not even weakened, not even sleeping.
I had no doubt my invasive recording would have pissed him off. But I was literally dealing with an entirely unknown humanoid species in my living room. Could I really be blamed?
Out in the yard, I zoomed in on the disgusting heads Leon had speared around the perimeter. Good God, I could only hope Inaya didn’t decide to stop by unannounced. It may have been the beginning of October, but even under the guise of Halloween decor, the skeletal heads were alarming. Their smell bizarrely wasn’t as bad as when they were alive, but a moldy, rotten aroma still lingered around them.
Who could I possibly show these videos to? A priest? A demonologist? Cryptozoologist? I knew fellow Youtubers who would be fascinated by them, but I didn’t need to inspire fascination. I needed help that didn’t require selling my soul.
Once again, my thoughts went back to the Hadleighs.
Was Leon really lying when he told me they were my enemies? I kept trying to remind myself not to underestimate him, that surely a demon would be out for himself above all else, but that was getting harder to keep believing. He’d played to every masochistic fantasy I had, but not once had I felt unsafe. I trusted him — but I somehow still doubted him.
After all, his bargain was still the barrier between me and being guaranteed his protection. At the end of the day, he was pursuing me for his own ends.
The Hadleighs were my only other possible link to help.
Leon slept through the rest of the day and into the night, not stirring even when I cooked dinner and put on the TV. He remained curled up under the blanket, still as stone except for his occasional slow breathes. Cheesecake, despite my best efforts to stop him, hopped up on the couch and promptly made himself comfortable against his new demon best friend, kneading the blanket with loud purrs before he curled up against Leon’s side.
Having him down there made me feel safer as I climbed into bed, but I still spent a few minutes staring out the bedroom window through the curtains, watching the trees. The crickets were singing, the night was empty. Maybe those heads really would keep the Eld away.