A Demon's Desire by Lizzy Ford Page B

Tristan said more firmly.
“Tell your master it is so.”
    “Very well,” it said.
    Good-bye, Snowman, Sissy said
angrily.
    The room grew colder. The air around them
became heavier until it weighed down on Tristan’s shoulders. He
reached for Sissy instinctively and touched her arm, watching as
the form before him faded, grew dark, and absorbed the shadows of
the room like a sponge. A snap of icy cold, and the dark spirit
eddied and eased out of the open window like smoke. Tristan waited
until the air in the room returned to normal before closing the
window. He still sensed a shadow somewhere in the room, the
lingering evil a sign confirming his suspicion something in the
room had been tagged.
    Sissy watched him, too weak to speak, and he
touched her face gently.
    “He’s gone, Sissy,” he murmured.
    Mama. The girl’s eyes welled with
tears, and Tristan soothed her before going to the door.
     
    * * *
    Emma began to wonder if being afraid of the
dark still made sense. After all, she only saw creepy freaks
following her during daylight. In the dairy aisle.
    She’d overstayed her welcome, she suspected,
but lingered over the cartons of soy milk, torn between doing
something somewhat nice for the demon in her house and bypassing
it.
    The feel of eyes watching made her tense
enough to snap. She glanced over her shoulder, where Cat-eyes, with
no apparent intentions of shopping, leaned against a bread stand
and stared at her.
    Tristan said they won’t hurt me , she
thought again.
    She pulled a carton from the shelf and placed
it in her basket.
    Tristan’s effort to be normal the night
before touched her. He would never look anything but like a demon
to her, but he was more human, taking her out to relax, answering
her questions.
    Kissing the daylights out of her. Emma
touched her lips, face warm. No man had ever kissed her like that.
No kiss had ever suffused her with warmth, welcome, and promise
beyond that of the hot fire of desire. He made her feel like the
only woman on earth.
    Which meant he had kissed a lot of women.
    She shook herself mentally and continued,
unable to dismiss the wonderful sensation of his lips against hers.
She rounded a corner and nearly ran into another freak. She pushed
this one with her cart. He moved but continued to stare at her, and
she decided her trip was done.
    Emma checked out under the supervision of
several more hawk-eyed freaks and moved smartly to her car, where
one leaned against it and another hovered.
    Calm, Emma, calm. Tristan said they won’t
hurt me. She hurriedly placed everything in the trunk and
turned, jumping and pressing herself against the trunk.
    Mr. Winter stood in front of her in a light
gray suit, smiling a smile as chilling as a stiff breeze. His eyes
were silver-gray and empty, his presence like that of a meat
locker: dead, still, cold.
    Tristan said--
    Mr. Winter touched her arm, and Emma
jerked.
    Tristan said nothing about what to do if they
did more than watch. She eased away, determined to run over any
that remained in her path. Mr. Winter took her arm in a tight,
painful grip.
    “Why don’t you try one?” he offered,
producing a tin of mints and flipping the lid with one hand.
    Emma stared at him. Freaks lingered in a
loose circle around them, watching, shifting, waiting, as restless
as shadows. Mr. Winter held her in place, and Emma suspected she
would not be released until she accepted. She timidly took one and
placed it in her mouth, surprised it tasted like a real mint and
didn’t burst into flames.
    “Thank you,” Mr. Winter said and released
her.
    She moved away from him, startled to see the
loose ring around them break up. The freaks turned their backs and
walked away. Mr. Winter smiled again.
    Shaken, she threw herself into her seat,
locked the doors, and bolted from the parking lot to Amber’s
apartment building. She hesitated in the parking lot of the
apartment building, willing her hands to stop shaking before seeing
her family. They needed