Page 88 of Wicked Flavors

“We … we could…”

“We could kill him,” he whispered, like a sweet nothing, like a declaration of love. Then, with a chuckle, “We could justfucking killhim.”

“We could…” she eyed the man, then giggled. “We could just toss him one of the dumpsters in the alleys…”

“Yes,” Ambrosius murmured, pressing his head against hers. “Just think about it. You’ll drain him of all those pesky emotions, and I’ll swallow the rest.”

“I want to…” Gwen sighed. “But, I don’t want to waste time on some nobody loser who listens to too many gym bro podcasts. I want to spend this time with you,justyou, on our date.”

There was some disappointment that she didn’t take him up on his offer. Ambrosius was looking forward to the day when they didn’t just eat, but murdered together, too. He had an entire list of humans to choose from, after all. Those would be thefirstto go. There would be time, despite his eagerness to start now.

“I suppose you have a point … but I don’t know if I could live with myself if I didn’t at least attempt a romantic gesture.”

Gwen waspuzzled as Ambrosius murmured something low under his breath. She wouldn’t have understood, as it wasn’t an exact language, but a series of broken, dissonant whispers. The man—as if compelled—suddenly looked up from the screen and turned his head to look at the demon.

The lemonade was the first thing to drop, cup bouncing once before spraying across the concrete. None of the humans had a chance to react to it before the man followed, dropping to his side, hard. He clutched his head, shouting in obvious pain as onlookers started to move. Some did no more than look, few went forward to help, but many had taken out their phones to film.

And this is another reason to loathe them…

“Did you—” Gwen jerked her head toward him. “Did you do that? What was that?!”

“That, mybittersweet, was just a little fear. I have the ability to frighten humans to the point of pain,” Ambrosius explained, reaching back for the blue drink. “His mind was very weak. I won’t be surprised if he has trouble sleeping for the next year or so. Sleep deprivation by the way of nightmares isn’t pleasant.”

“You—are you telling me you fucked with that guy’s head because he touched my ass?” Gwen asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Ambrosius said. “Not quite a murder, but better than letting himexistin peace.”

The demon didn’t anticipate Gwen’s enthusiastic response to his gesture. She dropped her pink drink onto the table, took his face into her hands, and kissed him near senseless. When she came up for air, her face was flushed and her eyes bright beneath the string-lights.

“That’s so hot,” Gwen said. “I wanna do something for you, but I need you to trust me a little.”

His lips were still tingling, his mind overwhelmed with lust and destruction. Yet, when she looked into his eyes, Ambrosius didn’t see a challenge there, so much as an offer. A chance, a moment with her to do something he had never done before.

Trust.

Gwen bit her lip.

“What do you have in mind, my bittersweet?”

37

Playful

Gwen

Get Wrecked, Weirdowasn’t that far from the summer night market. After years of bus routes, Gwen knew her way around the city better than most. The building in question was only two blocks over, and by the time they arrived, Gwen could hear the ambulance in the distance.Get Wrecked, Weirdoboasted a brick building with an interior that looked like a business in the middle of renovations. Open pipes, graffiti on the walls of plywood, and hard concrete floors gave the interior a rough but modern feel.

Luckily, they were open late for the summer crowds, and blissfully empty. Gwen booked a room for twenty minutes, nodded as the man explained the rules, then promptly took the protective gear he offered. The man guided the couple farther into the building, to an open area.

“I’ll set up some of the items while y’all change,” he explained.

“Okay, put these over your clothes!” Gwen said as she handed Ambrosius a white coveralls, gloves, and a helmet with a thick visor mask.

She hushed him before he could complain, kissing him sweetly before wiggling into her own coveralls. Gwen would worry about the helmet hair after. Once they were sufficiently suited up, Gwen grabbed Ambrosius and hurried toward the room where the man stood.

“Okay, the moment I shut the door, your twenty minutes start. If you need anything, give us a holler,” the man said before opening the door.

The interior of the room boasted black walls spray painted with neon colors and a concrete floor. There were two makeshift tables made with tires and plywood, with several glass bottles, ceramic bowls, and old cell phones. A single wine barrel sat between the two tables. On the floor was a keyboard, sound speaker, and computer monitor.

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