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

secrets your kind’s better off not knowin’. Gimme commands, without ever considerin’ the consequences. What else you wanna talk about?”

How to send him back, but I can’t ask it baldly, as much as I wish I could. “So you have a family?”

“More of a harem.”

“Oh.” Disconcerted, I take a piece of tuna and turn it around in my fingers, watching the shine from the halogens overhead glisten on the fish. A harem. What else should I expect from a lust demon? “What happens to your harem while you’re stuck here?”

“Ful’ll watch over them. An’ I’m not stuck here. I can go anytime.” He rubs his ankle against mine. “That’s the beauty of not bein’ bound.”

Which leaves me exactly screwed. Next time a demon asks me to bite off its binding, I’m going to tell it to get stuffed.

“Don’t you miss them?” I don’t have much hope of getting him to go back on his own. He’d have done it by now if he was going to. But it’s worth a try.

He chews for a moment, washes it down with a swig of saki. “Yeah. Not the way you mean, but, yeah.”

“Why not the way I mean?”

“’Cause I’m not human, sweet meat. If they were yours, you’d miss ‘em the way humans miss each other. I miss ‘em because they’re part of my power base. ‘Cause I’m not as strong when I’m not with ‘em.”

“But you worry about what will happen to them, so you must have some feelings for them.”

He snorts around another piece of tentacle. “Feelings. Everything you humans do is so wrapped up in your feelings. You think I can afford to be controlled by my feelings? Like when that stupid fuck left you. You think I could let losin’ one of ‘em destroy me?”

“Wha—” I swallow around a sudden lump in my throat. I haven’t thought about Saul since the demon crashed into my life, but the unexpected mention of him brings all the suppressed hurt welling back up. “Saul leaving didn’t destroy me.”

“Fucked you up pretty good.”

“Keep out,” I say furiously. “There are places in my head that are just none of your goddamn business.”

He arches an eyebrow and continues eating.

“Fine, I was in love with Saul and yes, it hurt that he left. It hurt a lot. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothin’. You’re human. Just don’t expect me to be like that. I can’t afford that kinda weakness.”

“What’s weak about loving someone?”

“It makes you hesitate. Just like you’re hesitating about figuring out a way to send me back.”

“Fuck you,” I hiss.

The demon glances at the counter, but the sushi chef has disappeared through a curtain that I assume leads into the kitchen. “Simmer down,” he says. His voice holds no anger, only faint amusement, and after that one glance, he goes back to eating. “It wouldn’t piss you off if it wasn’t true.”

I am not falling for a demon. Not even my screwed-up heart would do that to me.

“You’re lookin’ at this all wrong, sweet meat. You’re focusin’ on the downside—”

“The downside?!”

He inspects a seaweed roll full of dark red roe. Tips some of the fish eggs onto his tongue before he says. “I’ve got no problem with what you are. I’ll never bolt because you call lightning or ‘cause a werewolf shows up at your door. Although that fucking pixie’s got to go. And I’ll never screw you over. I’ll never neglect or ignore you. Once your soul’s mine, it’s mine forever. An’ I take care of what’s mine.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” I ask incredulously.

“Don’t it?”

“Strangely, no.”

“Then you’re still looking at it wrong. Have another drink.” He refills my cup.

“Getting me drunk is not going to make me change my mind about giving you my soul,” I say mutinously.

“I don’t expect it to.”

A sudden thought makes me eye the saki like it’s a viper. “You’re going to get me drunk and make me sign those papers, aren’t you?”

“No.” He chuckles. “Don’t work that way.”

“Then why are you getting me drunk?”

“Told you, I got my reasons. You’re not drinkin’.”

I take a large swallow of the saki, which is somehow still exactly the right temperature, despite the fact that it must have been cooling the whole time we’ve been talking. It rushes warmly down my throat, through my belly, up into my head. “You can’t blame me for being suspicious.”

“Blame’s a waste of energy. So’s suspicion. Paranoia, now, that can be useful.” He hands me a piece of the tentacle. “Try this.”

I bite into it warily. The texture of squid usually makes me queasy. But it’s wonderful, firm and smooth without being rubbery. “It’s excellent.”

“Yeah, it is.” He sighs in a very satisfied way, which, given that he’s completely decimated the sushi boat, is understandable. A handful of pieces remain. Yellowtail, salmon, tuna. My favorites. Has he left them for me? “I’ll miss this to fuck if you do figure out a way to send me back.”

His voice is deep, rich, the way it usually is. There’s no self-pity. But I feel a rush of guilt. As if I’ve done something wrong. “I’m sorry,” I say automatically.

“For what?”

“Everything.” I rub my forehead. I’m getting buzzed from the saki and my head feels floaty. My thoughts disconnected. “Being afraid of you, and thinking you’re trying to do something bad to me when you’re not . . . wishing this wasn’t happening . . . enjoying being with you more than I should . . . and . . . everything.”

He reaches across the table and curls his hand around my wrist, fingertips stroking the soft place where my pulse beats. “Wanna go home and fuck?”

I make a small, involuntary sound in my throat. One less cup of saki and it would have been a protest. One more and it will be a sob.

“Yes,” I say finally. What else is there?

He releases my wrist and reaches out to slide his fingertips underneath my chin. “I’ll tell you in the morning.”

With that, he rises and goes to pay the bill. I eat the last few pieces of sushi