Page 65 of The Wishing Game

He frowns, and I think it's safe to say this might be his first experience with glitter. But he's not deterred as he continues to study the items on the table, picking up a perfume next. Instead of spraying it, however, he unscrews the entire cap until the liquid spills everywhere, the scent wafting in the air.

Well, I must say it is a nice change from the sulfurous smell of the demon—just a tad too pungent.

"I'm not sure what you're trying to do, but you should stop destroying the makeup," I add as he touches another container.

"Makeup?" he repeats, the word foreign in his tone.

"You know, the stuff you apply on your face and body."

"I know no such thing," he huffs. Ignoring me, he continues to check every item.

"Hey, you're ruining people's property," I rephrase my words, reaching out to grab his hand.

He turns his head toward me, giving me a deadly stare.

"Do not touch me without permission, human," he states, potentially forgetting that I was already touching him before since hestillhas not let go of me. If anything, considering I'm in his arms, I'd sayheis touchingme.

"Just stop whatever you're doing."

"I must check all these odd containers for any potential threat." The words flow out of his mouth. "I do not know what type of magic you humans dabble in."

Now it's my turn to simply stare at him.

I thought Thea was odd, but she certainly wasn'tthislevel of crazy.

I attempt to get him to stop once more, but he ignores me and continues to checkeverysingle item on the vanity. Alas, after some time, he is done, and he moves away from that area. But I'm still in his arms!

"You can put me down, you know," I grumble.

He doesn't reply as he simply lets go of me.

Just. Like. That.

I yelp in pain as I fall down. Luckily, the carpet is fluffy enough to make it less painful, but the impact still jostles my bones.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I burst out, looking up at him belligerently.

He stares me down, his eyes narrowing.

"You asked me to put you down. I did."

"Youdroppedme," I point out.

"I put you down," he counters.

"Ugh!" I let out an annoyed huff. "You're not from around here, are you?"

His eyes narrow further.

"You're not fromthisplace," I reiterate.

"I am not," he replies proudly, pushing his chin up.

His tone tells me he doesn't have the highest consideration for ushumans.

"Why are you here anyway? And how did you get past the barrier?" I decide to change the subject since it's a chore to have a normal conversation with someone who cannot understand normal language—and who already sees me as a primitive human.

"I can get through any barrier," he immediately answers, a hint of indignation in his voice—as if he's insulted I'd even suggest otherwise.

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