Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 74(@200wpm)___ 59(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 74(@200wpm)___ 59(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
Caleb clears his throat. “You are, uh, scary. I guess? But I’m scared every day, all fucking day. The world is in shambles, Gemma. And, forgive me if this is creepy, but you’re naked in my room, and the other night you were sitting on my chest while naked in my room. I had what I feel is a pretty normal reaction.”
Naked . . . I look down at my body. I understand the concept of clothes, the same way I understand the concept of an erection. But clothes are a human thing, something to cover their bodies from the elements, to hide them from the shame their society drills into their heads. “You just said I’m scary.”
“You . . . are?”
Realization rolls over me in a thick wave. He’s lying. He’s not scared of me at all. He’s turned on, and worse, he’s nice enough to pretend I’m not catastrophically failing at my only job. “You’re not scared at all.” Now that I’m focusing, I can feel his emotions roiling in his chest. There is fear there, but it’s faint and once again wrapped up in confusion, which I cannot eat.
“Maybe we could try again,” he says slowly. His eyes are focusing very intently on my face, not dipping below my chin after that first intense scan. “If you release me, I’ll go back to sleep. You can come in again, and I’ll be scared.” He’s still speaking softly, as if he doesn’t want to spook me.
“I have to go.” My stomach chooses that moment to rumble loudly in protest. I had mostly gotten used to my hunger while living on Ralph’s scraps, but the veritable feast Caleb gave me two nights ago makes it hard to bear in this moment.
He jerks, but my magic holds him still. Except for his face, which I’m discovering is incredibly expressive, even if I don’t fully understand the meaning behind each micro movement. “Wait. Please. I’ve obviously done something wrong, and I’m sorry. Please don’t go.”
Now he’s apologizing. As if my mortification couldn’t get any stronger. I turn away and press my hands to my heated face, hating the tightness in my throat and chest. I don’t know how many more chances I have left. Will this be the one that disappears me? Or will they give me another human to bumble through attempting to scare?
“Gemma.”
At the sound of my name, I do my best to insert steel into my spine. It feels more like soft dough, but I manage to turn to face him again. “Close your eyes.”
Caleb immediately obeys. He’s still in that half-sitting-up position, which doesn’t look comfortable in the least, but he’s relaxed and resting easily against my magic, so maybe it’s fine. What little fear was present seeps away as I walk toward him. He’s happy I’m not leaving.
Frustration rots inside me, acidic and so intense it takes my breath away. “This isn’t going to work. I’m supposed to be feeding off your fear.” I didn’t mean to say that. Fuck. I am screwing this up royally.
“Okay,” he says easily. “Scare me.”
If it were that easy, I would have done it by now. I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him, relaxed and trusting me when he most certainly shouldn’t. “You don’t have a single shred of self-preservation, do you? I could kill you. That would make you afraid.”
“Probably.” He smiles, his eyes still closed. “Worth a shot, right?”
I blink. Maybe I’m not the incompetent one here. Oh, I am incompetent—I can’t pretend otherwise—but this man clearly has no survival instinct. Irritation rises, washing through my frustration. “Keep your eyes closed.” He likes this form? Well, I’ll give him another to gawk at.
It hurts to change my body. Not because of the shifting bones and cells and magic, but because I’m already so low on reserves. Demons like Ralph can shift in a heartbeat without so much as a flinch because they’re glutted on the emotions of their humans. Even the demons who don’t have a large number of humans can manage it, because there are always more emotions to plumb when it comes to humans. Normal demons don’t spend days avoiding their human until hunger drives them back.
I shimmy a little, getting used to the added height and lack of mass. I won’t claim any originality in the design—I shamelessly copied it. Once I’m sure I won’t topple over with my first step, I make my way to the bed and crawl onto the mattress, closer and closer to Caleb, until my nose nearly touches his.
With each shift of my weight, his breathing picks up. I can feel his anticipation as I settle over him, careful not to touch his body. There will be no need to sit on his chest tonight . . . hopefully. I’m not sure I can manage it in this form without hurting him, and as frustrating as this whole experience has been, it’s not really his fault that things aren’t going to plan.