Page 35 of A Velvet Kiss After Dark

Oh, pretty. Oh, nice.

Sparkly things, strange gizmos and gadgets, funky smelling foods, odd people who reveled in activity, there was excitement in the air of the marketplace township Tabitha and her unusual entourage entered.

Soft silk dresses, delicate scarves, scrumptious looking mini-dragon baby's roasted on a stick like a kebab, campfire fires, jolly music, and strange letters in an alphabet unrecognizable left Tabitha reeling in both delight and surprise. She was in a magical world! With real "Infernas" demons who projected fire, according to Kane, though aside from a pavilion with a pyre of dancers around it wearing colorful rainbow-bright skirts, and the occasional barbecue-like oven for cooking, Tabitha had yet to see any demon "cast fire" as if by magic. But, she couldn't wait!

Already her mind was astounded at the stories she planned to write for her tabloid column once she made it back home to her computer. She might craft an entire series revealing to the world that there was real demonic life that living inside the earth, and they weren't so different (so far as she could tell) from humans. They mostly wore clothing, though many of the men wore no shirts, only pants and bare feet. Those who appeared to have more wealth, did wear jewelry, haughty necklaces with large gemstones and rings of gold. Some women looked very exotic with heavily kohled eyes and ruby red lips, though their demonic lips looked significantly more thick and round and more pouty than her own human ones.

Most people seemed to disregard their entourage. Though, Graham, was quick to tell Kane that he was going to scope out this town and return shortly. The other two, Seth and his sister Alexis, also split up from the group. They would appear less conspicuous this way, they decided, and Tabitha agreed. All of the "demons" here, many of which had bold dark brown horns jutting from their head, some grown inward, others outward, or twisted, wore white to pale-colored light clothing, and they each had on black stagnate cloaks which only soaked them with sweat.

She wanted to fit in, get a costume, just as she had at so many banquets she'd sneaked into for a juicy story, but here she had no money or anything for which to barter.

So, Tabitha, with Kane alongside her, his hand intertwined with hers as he led her discretely through the massive-sized market place and village surveyed the surroundings of huts, villagers, wheelbarrows filled with various exotic plants, fruits, or maybe vegetables being drug from one "farmer" to another, and a rush of an elegant language punctuated by throaty grunts, stops, and pauses, the likes of which Tabitha could only describe as demonic as hell sounding, and was rather frightening. Their language was rather frightening to listen to, like some evil chant from a horror movie. It gave a shiver, but Kane merely clenched her hand harder.

"We must divest ourselves of these cloaks and blend in."

She nodded, for she had already been thinking much the same.

"I have no money, Kane."

"Neither do I," he replied.

"So, then what do we do?" she whispered to him. He peered down at her and she could see the cogs whirring in his brain as he contemplated what to do.

"I'll take care of it. Wait here."

He left her against a vacant wall at the rear of some building and vanished around the corner and out of sight. Fear stole over her, and her eyes bugged at being left alone in a very unfamiliar place.

Okay, don't freak out, Tabitha, she thought to herself.

Time transpired. One minute became three, and then seven, and then longer.

Sweat dripped down Tabitha's temples and secreted low onto her spine. The black cloak she wore made her look more like a deadly assassin, than a sweet reporter.

Lyrical music suddenly grew louder. Curiosity, forever her biggest asset for determining lucrative stories that would fill the masses with delight and glee, edged her closer to the rear of the building she was currently stashed against. She followed the sounds and peeked her head around and found a parade with brightly colored "demons", women only, singing gaily and waving ribbons in the air as they marched up the street and toward her. Gasping, Tabitha sneaked back against the wall and edged back toward the opposite side of the building. Surely, Kane would be returning any second now, somehow with a brand new wardrobe for both of them. But, he wasn't anywhere in sight.

At once, a man appeared before her, blocking the sunlight with his great height and muscular stature. He had a fearsome visage and corkscrew scar that tarnished his ruddy, thick lips as if he'd once had his face held against a jigsaw. Tabitha could smell a criminal from a mile away, and this man stunk.

"Elho shovask tadahz. Verumtst, shkly hock?"

Only the upward inflection at the end of his demonic language stated he may be asking a question. Tabitha knew nothing of his language or his people, but she was frightened.

"Um," she stuttered, and backed up a step, retreating.

He smiled as if her fear brought him pleasure.

He gentled his expression and pressed a hand over his heart. "Torpence," he articulated clearly, his voice gravelly.

His name? she wondered.

Tabitha declined to speak, merely shaking her head. She didn't want him to know she wasn't a demon, and she knew nothing of this kind of being to know what his characteristics were. Did he have keen sight or hearing as vampires did? Was he pronouncedly fierce and strong as werewolves were? The only information Kane had given her was that Infernas demons could spout fire from their hands. She eyed his hands and found even more scars and heinously ugly moles and pockmarks covering his large hands.

Thinking quickly, she was always a quick thinker, Tabitha suddenly concocted a story on why she should be here, and part of the farce would be to remain mute. She didn't want this stranger with the creepily assessing gaze to know she wasn't a demon, but if he could smell her apart from the others…well, that she didn't know.

So, she chose an air of deference, and cocked her chin haughtily in the air before sweeping toward the singing women dancing up the road behind her. Peeking over her shoulder, she kept watch of the man who watched her like a hawk about to pounce; he was following her at a sedate pace. She knew that look, and her stomach clenched in fear. It reminded her much of the vagabond who attacked her and stole her camera bag before pushing her through the portal in St. Louis. This man was a criminal.

The dancers frolicked and a few glanced at her with bright smiles, before cavorting away to sway their ribbons in the air and play their lyres, hand drums, and lutes.

Where are you, Kane? That thought had no sooner formulated, than did she feel the male's turgid fingers curled around her shoulder to halt her progress. Oh, God! Fear catapulted her to move, and she ducked down and dove into the crowded parade just as the male let loose a foul sound like that of a curse. Her hood came down, revealing her strawberry brown hair, and with a rip, her hood came off her.

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