Page 2 of My Professor is a Demon

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.

"Dr. Katz?"

I hastily closed the folder, sliding it into my desk drawer as the door opened.

Speak of the devil. Charlotte Evers poked her head in. "Oh good, you're still here! I was afraid you'd left already."

She bounded into my office with irrepressible energy, her petite frame practically vibrating with excitement. She carried two takeout coffee cups and a messenger bag overflowing with papers. My eyes involuntarily traced the curve of her hip where her simple sundress clung to her figure, the material thin enough to hint at what lay beneath. I quickly redirected my gaze to the coffee she offered.

"I brought reinforcements," she announced, placing one cup on my desk. "Triple espresso. You looked like you needed it during our research meeting earlier."

I found myself smiling despite my dark thoughts. "That's... thoughtful of you, Miss Evers."

“What’s that odd smell?” she asked. “Like sulfur?” “Nothing to be concerned about,” I said with a wave of my hand. “Oh, okay.” She dropped into the chair across from me with casual familiarity, seemingly unaware of how many students found me intimidating. "And I had a breakthrough on those eastern campus energy patterns you asked me to look into."

I reached for the coffee cup at the same moment she pushed it forward. Our fingers brushed, and a visible spark of energy arced between us, blue-violet and unmistakable.

Charlotte yanked her hand back, eyes wide. "Static electricity! Crazy, right? This building is terrible for that."

But I had felt what it really was—her supernatural energy signature responding to my demonic essence, reaching out instinctively before either of us could control it. I'd never felt anything quite like it.

"Must be the carpeting," I agreed, taking the cup without further comment. The coffee burned my tongue, but it was nothing compared to the heat that had flashed through me at her touch.

Charlotte was already digging through her bag, pulling out hand-drawn maps covered in annotations. "So I cross-referenced the ley line fluctuations with lunar cycles, and guess what? The eastern quadrant's energy spikes correspond perfectly with the moon's perigee! That can't be coincidence, right?"

She leaned forward, gesturing animatedly as she spread the papers across my desk. The movement caused her sundress to dip slightly, revealing the delicate hollow between her collarbones and a hint of cleavage. I forced myself to focus on the maps, disturbed by how easily this human, or whatever she was, distracted me from my well-honed control. She was too young for me, I tried to tell myself, but I was intrigued regardless.

Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I found myself leaning forward despite my better judgment, drawn in by her genuine excitement for the research.

"That's... actually quite insightful," I admitted, examining her work. The patterns she'd identified had taken me weeks to notice, and I'd been studying ley lines for centuries.

A shaft of moonlight cut through the window, illuminating Charlotte as she bent over the maps. For a moment—just a flicker of supernatural sight—I saw beyond her human appearance. Something ancient and powerful shimmered beneath her skin, like light refracted through crystal.

I blinked, and it was gone. But the impression remained. Whatever Charlotte Evers was, "human" didn't fully cover it.

"What exactly led you to focus on lunar influences?" I asked carefully.

"Intuition, mostly." She shrugged. "Sometimes I just... know things about magical energy. It's why I chose supernatural studies. I can feel the patterns."

I'd built my academic reputation on decades of careful, methodical research—though I'd had centuries rather than decades to accumulate that knowledge. Charlotte's approach was all intuitive leaps and creative connections that somehow landed precisely on target. It both fascinated and unnerved me.

"Intuition is valuable," I said, "but it needs to be backed by rigorous methodology."

"That's why we make a good team." She smiled up at me. "You've got the methodology part nailed down."

A strand of golden hair had fallen across her face. My fingers itched with the inexplicable urge to brush it away.

I stood abruptly, putting the desk between us. "It's getting late, Miss Evers—Charlotte. Perhaps we should continue this tomorrow."

Disappointment flickered across her face before her sunny smile reasserted itself. "Of course! Sorry to keep you so late. I just get excited about breakthroughs."

She started to gather her materials, tucking them haphazardly into her bag.“Can you leave them for me to review?” I asked. “Sure,” she said, setting them down again.

"I'll walk you to your car," I found myself saying. "The campus can be... unpredictable after dark."

"Such a gentleman," she teased, apparently unaware of how unusual the offer was. After my visit, I wanted to take a few extra precautions. "But I'm parked right outside Blackwood. I'll be fine."

"I insist." Something protective stirred in me, an unfamiliar and unwelcome feeling.

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