Neon Blue E Frost (speld decodable readers .TXT) 📖

Only I’ve lost my license permanently, so I’m not going to make much of a soccer mom, even if I could have kids. The only museum I’ve bothered to go to since moving to Boston is Timmi’s. My family dog is more likely to be a werewolf. And the only man in my life who can accept what I am is a demon.

“I’m never going to fit in here, am I?” I ask the empty street. Leaves rustle, but nothing answers. No epiphany dawns. There’s just the quiet street, the night breeze, the slow rocking of the swing. And the faint compulsion that’s ridden beside me all day, to go to the demon.

I stare at my wrists. I can almost see the bindings in the dusk. If nothing else, I want these things off me. I want to be free to make my own choices.

I rise slowly and make my way into my house, where the demon sleeps.

A dark shape against the tangled white sheets of my bed, the demon’s still asleep, breathing deeply and heavily. Not snoring. Do demons snore?

No, he grunts into my mind and holds an arm out to me.

I crawl across the bed and cuddle to his side. Kiss him. He returns my kisses sleepily.

“You don’t seem to get bad breath, either.”

“All kinda perks to bein’ infernal. You’ll love it.”

“Mmm.” I stuff all my doubts down deep in my mind and focus on the here and now. “Would you like me to make you dinner? It won’t be up to your standard, but, you know, I’ll do my best.”

“Nuh-uh. I’m goin’ back to sleep.” More sleepy kisses. “Come and join me after you’ve eaten.”

“I will, but I need to go gathering first. I only made half a batch today because I’m so low on dock and trillium.”

A deep grunt and he begins to sit up. “I’m comin’ with you.”

I push him back onto the bed. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. You won’t even know I’m gone.”

“I’ll know.”

“Give it a rest, Jou. I’ll be back soon.” I slide off the bed and to my relief, the demon settles back into the pillows with a groan.

“Don’t be long.”

“I won’t.” I rummage in my closet until I find a long skirt. Fold it over my arm. I can change downstairs. “And Jou? This might as well be the night you stay out of my head.”

He rolls onto one side and looks at me, eyes glowing faintly in the twilight. “Why’s that?”

Because I’m going to get these damn things off my wrists, one way or another. “Because you’ll distract me, snoring into my brain.”

“I don’t snore,” he growls.

“That’s what everyone says.” I lean over the bed and kiss him. “And yet something like ninety percent of people do snore. How do you figure that? And what difference does it make? You’re going to be asleep and we’re not going to have sex tonight. So tonight’s a good night for it. I don’t want it to be a night we’re together. I like having you in my mind when, you know.”

“Yeah, I like being in your mind then, too.” He slides an arm behind his head, and lies back into the pillows. “But as for havin’ sex tonight—” He pats the edge of the bed and I perch on it.

“I’ll be too tired after gathering,” I warn. Something I know with certainty.

“We really gotta do something about your lack of stamina.”

“You can talk. You’ve been asleep for what, ten hours?”

“Mmm.” He stretches like a great, golden cat. “Gonna sleep for another ten, too. Can’t believe how much goin’ home fucked me up. Look, I’m even havin’ trouble holding onto my glove.” The sheet rustles and the tip of his flanged tail peeks over the edge. It waves at me.

I reach out tentatively and touch it. It feels firm but soft, kind of like the tip of a finger. It slides down my palm to curl over the groove between forefinger and thumb. The flanges drape around my fingers. They feel less like flesh. They’re smoother, like the skin inside my mouth, and they look like bat wings, which is a little creepy. I swallow and turn my hand over so I can gather his tail in my palm and close up the wings. I’d really rather not look at them. His tail pulses warmly inside the circle of my fingers, like we’re holding hands.

“It’ll be nice to come home to a warm bed.”

“Nicer if you stayed in the warm bed.”

“Jou.” I blow out a breath, ruffling my bangs. “I need to go gathering.”

“So you can help more yuppies make babies.”

“Are you criticizing my work?” This is not a conversation I want to have right now.

He grunts and his tail tugs on my wrist until I lean over. His arm closes around my waist; he reels me in for a kiss. “No. Definitely not. ‘Cause that’s not gonna get me laid, is it?” He rolls so I end up on the bed beside him. He rises over me, flashes me his wicked grin, and then dips his head and begins kissing his way down my neck.

“Jou!” I protest half-heartedly.

“If you’re gonna be too tired when you get back, then I better get me some now.”

“Jou—“ I slide my hands into his dreadlocks. Tug gently, although whether I’m pulling him closer or pushing him away is completely open to interpretation. He ignores my conflicting signals anyway and reaches down to unbutton my pants.

“Jou, wait.”

“No, no waitin’.” He succeeds in opening the fly of my pants and working them over my hips. “Waitin’ never got anyone laid either.”

That starts me giggling, even while I run my hands down to his shoulders, pushing half-heartedly. “I should go if I’m going to get back before midnight.”

“Or you just shouldn’t go.” He stops pulling off my pants for a second while he pushes up my sweater and unhooks my bra. “What the fuck’re you wearing, anyway?”

I push at