Page 34 of Demons in My Bed
She bounced on the balls of her feet, chewing on her lip as she thought. My eyes zeroed in on that little display, and suddenly I wanted to feel her juicy lip between my own teeth. I wanted to feel everything she had to give me. Especially that pretty little—
“Where are demons from? How long have you been here?” Her eyes widened. “How long have other demons been here? There are other demons, right? Why are you here of all places?” My mouth opened slightly as she rambled, like she barely took a breath before launching into the next question. “How old are you guys anyway? Okay, that was rude. Blink once if you’re under five hundred and twice for over.”
I didn’t move a muscle.
She released a huff of annoyance. “Fine. But why do you call yourselves The Exiled? There’s gotta be some kind of story there, right? And those tails, do you use them as weapons during fights? If it gets chopped off, does it regrow, like a crab leg?”
“And you’re done.” I stepped into her space, tucking her beneath my arm. “Do you suffer from low blood sugar? I believe you may be in need of some sugar.”
Palmer released a husky laugh that was like a slap right to the shaft. Not a bitch slap, but like, a sexual slap that stung just right. I filed that idea away for another day.
“No, I don’t have low blood sugar. I just haven’t had a chance to really process everything or ask questions, and I didn’t want to miss my chance.”
Most of that shit I wasn’t telling her—or anyone for that matter—but I could answer a few of her burning questions. “Of course there are other demons here. You probably interact with at least one demon per day without even knowing it. That’s the average estimate, anyway. We’re from the demon realm, which is called Besmet. We go back and forth through a portal.”
Her eyes bounced around, as if the portal was going to jump out and snare us without warning.
“Don’t worry, little rabbit. Even if the portal was here, we wouldn’t be able to go through. Well, actually, you could if you had a demon escort who wasn’t banished.”
“Banished?”
“And that’s the last question I’m answering right now—why we chose The Exiled for our name. Getting ostracized from your homeland tends to leave a lasting mark, wouldn’t you think?” This wasn’t a topic of discussion I particularly enjoyed. Brought up too many memories… especially of people who I’d thought loved me. That just wasn’t a road I could travel down right now. Or preferably ever.
Her little mouth opened, clearly to ask more questions, but I cut her off, ignoring her scowl. “Before we go in, I need you to understand that whatever you see or hear is confidential. Under no circumstances are you permitted to share anything with anyone. Got it?”
“Yes.” She snapped her fingers, then popped her hand under her chin as though some genius thought had just struck her dumb. “In fact, I have a better idea. Why don’t I just stay out here, and then I won’t see or hear anything I’m not supposed to?”
I laughed. “Nice try, love. Get inside.”
“Aye! Boss is here!” I heard the shout as we approached the door.
“That’s right. Look alive, ladies and gents!” I hollered, waltzing into the warehouse like a fucking god. “Heard there was some trouble last night. Anyone wanna show me where?”
One of our more promising mage members with an interesting affinity jogged up, eager to prove himself. “I was here last night when it went down. Happened exactly like Rhodes speculated. We had all the lights off, and it didn’t take long before I sensed people snooping around.”
I placed my hand on the small of Palmer’s back, guiding her with us as we walked through the building. Pallets were stacked up all around us, containing anything and everything from car parts to guns and ammunition. Those weren’t the most important items though.
“Tell me again how many there were, Roost?”
The kid grinned. “Twenty-five. Can you believe that shit? Anyway, I shifted and started taking out who I could.” Palmer’s brows lifted at that, and he laughed. “Name’s Rooster. Rattlesnake shifter, at your service.”
“That’s… not what I was expecting with your name.”
“Ah, yeah. Well, Carver gave me the name. I thought it was because I was always up at the crack of dawn, but turns out he just thinks I’m a cock,” he explained, making Palmer laugh. I hid my own smirk. I had a reputation to maintain, and this wasn’t the time for grins. Rooster led us to a slip at the back of the building that had a boat tied up and ready. “They’re all on board, sir.”
I nodded and turned to Palmer. “Stay with Roost. I need to go on board and check out something real quick.” I glanced at him. “Make sure she’s safe, and for the love of fuck, don’t let her disappear. If a single hair on her head is out of place when I get off that boat, someone will be answering for the disrespect with blood.”
“Understood,” Rooster said at the same time Palmer muttered, “Jesus.” But that was fine with me. She needed to learn right away that when I meant business, that was the end of it.
One didn’t just build a fucking empire being a limp dick, spineless jellyfish. No, I had expectations and I set them clearly. No chance at anything getting misunderstood that way. Maybe it was the discussion earlier about Besmet, but all of that just ran through my head in my father’s voice—or I should say, adoptive father. He’d taught me everything I knew and was the smoothest liar I’d ever known.
Nodding to them, I stepped on board and tugged out my handkerchief. I could already smell the stench of death; I needed to do this quickly. The door to the small room in the belly of the boat squeaked as I tugged it open, and I stepped through, letting it slam behind me.
“Fucking hell,” I cursed, trying to breathe through my mouth. Squatting down, I ripped the shirt of the first man I came to, looking for a clue about who he belonged to. Right there on his chest was all the confirmation I needed. A tattoo of a black scorpion with bright red blood splatter along its body told me that these men did indeed belong to Scorpio.
My lip curled up in disgust, and I fought against the desire to roar my challenge back to that fuckhead. He wanted a war? He was going to get one.
I got the fuck out of there, my boots landing solidly on the wooden dock as I tucked my silk hankie away and inhaled a deep breath of fresh air.
