Page 28 of Demon Daddy

Chapter 12

The east stairs are exactly as slick as he said.

I find that out about an hour after breaking the curse, when he’s giving me the tour of a temple that is finally, officially, not his prison anymore.

He’s a few steps ahead, ducking under an arch, pointing out where he wants to put bedrooms for our imps.

“Imps?”

He hesitates, turning. “Our offspring.”

“Kids?”

“They will not be entirely human, little one. You are mated to a demon now, and your belly will soon be round with imps of our own.”

“Wait, I’m pregnant?”

He takes my hand in his and pulls me on, my robe swishing around my legs, bare feet sinking into soft moss and crunchy brown and yellow leaves that must have blown all the way down here from outside. Some sort of glowing fungus throws out a dull blue light from where it grows along the walls.

“If not now,” he says, “soon you will be. Daddy knows. And Daddy has plenty more demon cum to fill you up if things don’t start happening soon. And even if they do…”

I wince at the thought. Not that I’m complaining, but sex with a demon takes its toll.

Then my heel goes.

My stomach leaves before the rest of me does.

The stone comes up fast, black and wet and a long way down, and for one second, I’m more scared than I was tied to that stake with the whole town watching.

He catches me by the back of the robe.

He hauls me up against his chest, and I cling to him, shaking, my heart going like a banjo in a bluegrass breakdown.

And he goes rigid.

His nostrils flare.

The red in his eyes flares with them, bright and awful and hungry, and I know exactly what he’s breathing in.

My fear. I can practically watch him taste it.

Then he makes a sound like somebody stabbed him.

“You are afraid.” His nostrils flare, lips pulling back in a snarl as everything about him shifts.

I swallow around the dryness in my throat.

“Yeah, scared the shit out of me. I almost cracked my melon clean open. I’m afraid of my brains coming out of my ears.” Adrenaline surges through me, my hands tremble, and a prickly sweat breaks out over my skin. “Humans die, you know. I understand you don’t, but dying makes us afraid.”

He sets me down on the landing so fast my teeth click, and backs away.

One step. Two.

All the way to the far wall, like I’m the one with horns.

“Stay,” he growls, but his voice is different, and the fear surging through me amplifies instead of calming. He turns away, his fingers curled into enormous fists at his sides, the muscle on his back tensing and flexing. “Do not follow me.”

A new fear weaves through my organs. He doesn’t answer, doesn’t turn back.