Page 46 of Demons in My Bed
He slowly sank into his seat and continued staring, one eyebrow raised. It was almost like he wanted—Oh. Ugh. Manners.
“Thank you,” I said, trying to ignore how gross it felt to be thanking one of the demons I was here to expose. I mean, I was pretty positive they’d killed two men last night—that I knew of. Misha didn’t respond, just opened one of the boxes and started devouring the contents. Flipping open my own, I didn’t even try to stop the groan of satisfaction that came out when I saw the buffalo wings and french fries. Pretty sure I didn’t even take a breath or blink, because when I finally did suck in a huge breath, six wings had been picked clean and half the fries were gone.
Glancing up, also for the first time since I started, I saw a literal pile of bones in front of Misha as he tore into another wing. Holy shit.Well, when you’re seven feet tall and three hundred pounds, I suppose your intake would have to be fairly large.
“Want another?” he asked gruffly, grabbing a wing and holding it out to me.
“Oh no, no. I’m good. Was just taking a breather,” I explained, and he nodded, starting right away on polishing that one off. I figured it was as good a time as any to ask some questions since it was only us at the moment. “This place is pretty cool. Has Felix had it long?”
Misha swallowed his bite and shrugged. “A while.”
Oh, okay. Good. Excellent information.
“Renovations must’ve been a bitch…”
He grunted. In Misha-speak, he could be agreeing, disagreeing, or just acknowledging that I’d spoken. I opened my mouth to ask another question, but he pushed my food toward me. “Eat.”
“I’m full.”
“One more.”
I really didn’t want to eat more, though it wouldn’t kill me if I did. It might also put me in his good graces, so I grabbed the smallest wing and started munching on it. Tearing off the final bite of meat, I tossed the bones down and wiped my hands.
“Good work,kukola,” Misha said, seeming pleased. I had to assume it was because I’d listened to him and ate more. The guy obviously had an obsession with the amount of food I ingested.
Kukola?I was going to have to google that one later.
“Do you think you could drop me off downtown after my shower? I have a few things to do…”
“Nope.”
“I’m sorry, what? What do you mean nope?” I stood and placed my hands on my hips.
“No. No way. Nope. Never happening.”
My eyebrows nearly touched my hairline. “Are you being a smart-ass right now?” He didn’t even act as if I’d spoken; he simply began cleaning up our food. I hated being ignored. “Misha! Why won’t you take me downtown?”
With all of our trash in a bag, he walked around the table and into the kitchen. I followed him. And by followed, I mean I was practically attached to his ass, so when he stopped suddenly, I ran right into him.
“Oof.” It was like walking into a brick wall. “You can’t just keep me locked up like a prisoner or—”
Misha moved fast. I barely had time to brace myself before he’d spun around and grabbed me, lifting me up by my thighs so I had to wrap my legs around him. In seconds, I had my breath taken away for the second time when he slammed me against a wall.
“Misha, what—”
“Quiet. I don’t repeat myself. Ever. So you better listen.” My eyes widened, and I ignored the heat that ignited in my belly at his roughness. I never liked being bossed around, and was usually quick to let it be known. So why then, when Misha did it, did it make me question a lot of things about myself?
As I stared into his eyes, I saw the change. He wasn’t the Misha who had been gentle with me, the one who’d fed me while I sat on his lap. Was this the man everyone called The Carver? I had to admit, I hadn’t seen anything yet that indicated he deserved such a brutal nickname. However, I always trusted my instincts, and right now, they were telling me that this guy wasn’t fucking around. Licking my lips, I nodded once, slowly.
“You. Aren’t. Leaving. Do you understand? You know what we are, and not only that, you still fuck us after knowing. You aren’t running away. Even if you tried, I would hunt you down and drag you back!” Our noses were practically touching as he raged, his anger palpable. “I don’t know what kind of witch you are, but I am fucking bewitched, woman. So no, you don’t get to do what you’ve done, and then skip off to wherever the fuck!”
My eyes widened as he stared me down.Bewitched? I’ve bewitched him?My chest felt tight at his declaration, like my heart was split into two and at war with itself. One side wanted to pulse with feelings of warmth and the other side was already throwing up impenetrable ice walls, since eventually, this would have to stop. I would need to kill them if necessary. Why did that idea suddenly make me feel sick?
I shook those thoughts away and focused on the guy pinning me to the wall. His body was trembling, his eyes locked on mine. “You’re so mad…” I whispered.
“Because you’re being selfish,” he said, his voice returning to its normal, growly tone.
“So what?” I tossed my arms up, frustrated. “I live with you guys now? What about my stuff? My apartment? My pet?” I didn’t have an apartment, but they didn’t need to know that. But I did have a duffel bag with a few clothing items and emergency essentials that I had stashed in a little tiny storage locker at a storage facility on the outskirts of the city.
