Page 9 of Drawn to the Demon Duke
So do I know what they’re talking about?
Nope.
Do they have any idea what I was blathering about?
Uh-uh.
I gulp, grateful that I listened to Mr. Woodrow and drew that protective circle?—
“Holy shit,” I breathe out, stumbling back, my heel landing awkwardly on the Walkman. I kick the stupid thing aside as I make my quick retreat.
Because the blue-eyed giant? He just stepped over the circle of salt like it wasn’t even there.
He glances over his shoulder, long white hair flowing kind of majestically as he turns to face the dark demon. The giant gestures for his buddy to follow him.
Only hecan’t.
As though there’s an invisible wall in front of him, when the shadowy demon with the purple eyes tried to follow the white demon with the… hang on, is that a crown? I peer closer at him, focusing on the crystallinecrownnestled between his black horns that I totally didn’t notice before.
Who is he, I wonder.
A king?
Not a goblin king, not like Jareth, but a demon king?
Is that my true love? Am I?—
What? Su. No. Focus!
I rip my gaze away from the king guy, looking at the other demon. He walked face-first into that invisible wall. I know he did. Now he’s tracing the circle, using a single hand to test the border. My estimation for Mr. Woodrow goes up just a little bit when it becomes clear that it’s the circle of sale keeping him in.
But why didn’t it keep in the king? Because he’s royal?
Because the magic knows he’s my true love?
Because he’s not a shadow like his pal?
I don’t know, but his monstrous face assumes a very familiar expression. He kind of reminds me of Mindy when she gets annoyed with me over something. With a scowl, he points at the purple-eyed demon, points at me, then rattles off something that I can’t make heads or tails of.
The other demon does.
He shoves his hands outside of the circle, every part of him that does going up in flame immediately. I shriek once I realize that that… that’s happening alright. It’s gotta hurt like heck, too, but the shadowy demon with the fiery hands—and the chains, can’t forget the chains again—just makes a pushing gesture.
I don’t know how he does it. More magic, I figure, but as he pulls his hand back inside of the circle, the fire goes out. They’reback to being inky-black hands, and maybe they’re burned to a crisp beneath the hazy edge, but I can’t tell.
Sorry, but I’m a little distracted by the fact that his hands are empty now. And mine?
They’re clasped in a pair of glowing, golden cuffs on my wrists, the length chain stretched between them.
I yelp, shaking my hands, trying to get them off of me. They’re warm. Not too hot that I’m burning the way the purple-eyed demon did, but it’s toasty against my skin. And, you know, I’m trapped.
Trapped.
“What are you… no. Get these off of me. You can’t do this!”
Turns out, the giant demoncan.
While I’m screeching, flapping my hands ineffectively, he stalks right over to me. Next thing I know, he’s picked me up easily, cradling me like I’m a friggin’ baby.
