Page 5 of Knox
Knox turned back to face him, meeting his gaze head-on. The man was pretending to be angry, but that was not the only emotion Knox could sense. There was interest there too. Hidden longing.
So easy to read.
So tempting.
Knox could walk over to him, pull him out of that armchair and press him against the wall. He wouldn’t be met with much resistance if he did. Maybe a token amount of struggle to add some spice.
No.
Focus.
He was not going to let this human turn him back into the demon he’d once been. The one who acted without thinking and took whatever he wanted.
He was going to be nice to his hosts. "My name is Knox," he said, choosing his words carefully. "As for how I arrived… I’m not entirely certain."
"You really expect me to believe that?"
"Adrian!" his grandmother scolded, her voice sharp. "Don’t be rude. The poor boy is clearly confused. He probably wandered away from a convention or something. Lots of young people dress up these days."
Adrian. So that was his name. It suited him—sharp, a little prickly.
Adrian glanced at his grandmother, then back at Knox. "That’s some pretty elaborate cosplay you’ve got going on there. Did you make it yourself?"
Cosplay? What in the realms was this human talking about?
Knox felt a flicker of frustration rise within him. "What is cosplay?"
Adrian blinked, taken aback by the question. "You’re messing with me, right?" He gestured toward Knox. "Those horns. The whole demon-warrior look. It’s pretty impressive, but it’s got to be cosplay."
Knox frowned, genuinely confused. "I am not… cosplaying, whatever that means." He glanced down at himself, suddenly self-conscious. His black battle gear was torn, his armor scuffed, and mud clung to the leather of his boots. He looked less like aformidable warrior and more like a vagrant who’d fallen down on his luck.
"You’re telling me those horns are real?" Adrian scoffed.
"Be polite," his grandmother reminded him.
He looked back at her with an expression of disbelief. "Grandma, seriously? You’re buying this?"
Evelyn shrugged. "The poor man fell out of the sky. He’s either a method actor or someone who clearly ended up in the wrong place."
The wrong place…
Yes, that was definitely where he was.
And that wasn’t going to change if he just kept sitting here. Knox stood, nearly upsetting the tea table as he did so.
"Where are you going?" Adrian asked, head whirling toward him.
"Out," Knox said, already moving to the door. "I need to… clear my head."
He had to climb down some stairs, but when he finally stepped out into the night, the cool air was a welcome shock against his heated skin. It wasn’t raining, but storm clouds hung heavy in the unfamiliar sky.
He inhaled deeply as he walked a few steps along the road, breathing in unfamiliar scents—most of them unpleasant. Everything about this world was wrong and off kilter. And there was so much noise.
Metal carriages roared past on the street, spewing fumes that burned his nostrils. The street lamps gave off a strange artificial glow and music blared from somewhere, music unlike any he’d ever heard a bard play.
What was this place?
Knox pressed a hand to his temple, trying to quell the rising nausea as he rounded a corner.
