Accidentally Married To A Demon - Mila Young Page 0,48

we survive the night... well, the wine will be ready soon, and the vampires will have to accept late payment. I can’t lose you."

I let the smile slip away from my lips as well as I looked into his eyes, still glowing a little red. "I don't know what to say, Rog. It's... I don’t even know when the hellhounds are coming for me. What if late delivery doesn’t work?"

He propped himself up on an elbow. "Don’t think like that."

I sighed. How could I not when that was on my mind constantly. "You want to know something. Thing is, as much as I hate you for tricking me into staying, I've started to... well, I maybe, might have, in a way that isn't my fault, started to... feel something for you as well."

"Something... other than complete disgust?"

"Sure. It's not something that I feel often, but I know when it's real, and this is... real."

I'd never been great at expressing my feelings like this, and it looked like he was about as confused as I was. I rolled over onto my back, staring up at the ceiling.

"Not that it matters anyways," I whispered. "We've got killer vampires and hellhounds coming to turn our collective insides into chew toys. It might sound weird but... I'm good with that. I've never been afraid of dying. More curious. Not to the point that I'd ever try to do it to myself, mind you, but if it's going out with the likes of you, Bram and Dracul... I can live with that. Metaphorically speaking."

I felt him move over the bed toward me, leaning in to press his lips to my cheek. "Don't talk like that. Do not even consider it. You're stronger than you know. Why else would vampires be so desperate to tie you to this place and kill you?"

"Technically, you were the one that tied me to this place."

"Yes, but they could have released you the moment that you came. They have for the other witches that found themselves entangled here. They would never risk bringing the wrath of your kind down on their little sanctuary. But you... do make them risk their safety for some reason."

"Lucky me," I growled, pushing myself to sit up on the bed, looking around for where my clothes had ended up. "I have all kinds of faith in what I can do. Not so much my ability to call on those abilities when I need them most, but still. Again, I'm going to fight like my life depends on it, but... I've made my peace, as it were."

"Don't," he growled, climbing out of the bed himself, handing me the shirt that he'd tossed aside in the heat of the moment. "Make war. There is no honor in death." He smirked, and we both turned when we heard the sound of Dracul howling at something outside.

I shuddered. "D-does t-that mean..." I started to ask.

"Yes and no. He's been making a racket all this time. I'll see if they are actually approaching. You should rest some. Even witches need their sleep."

"But demons don't?"

He shrugged. "I guess not."

Chapter 17

It was a dream. Nothing else it could be. So many times, I found myself in the old barn that we lived in for three years, in the cold and the rain, Mom using spells to keep us warm and dry through the worst of it. Still a miserable life, and not the kind that I ever wanted a repeat of.

The smell of old and new manure, decaying hay and feed all brought me back into it, curled up in a scratchy blanket, trying to replicate the warming spells that my mom had been performing to keep us warm while she was talking to the farmer about us staying for another few weeks.

"Crops aren't going to be in for another month," the man was saying. I'd heard it so often in my dreams that I could repeat everything he said, word for word. "You'll need to be gone soon anyhow. Can't keep feeding the two of you off the sweat of my brow."

"You mean the sweat of your illegal immigrant workers' brows?" my mom countered.

"I don't need to take this. Way I see it, I'm doing the two of you a favor. I'm retracting that favor now that my wife's coming back from her mother's. She won't be happy to see the two of you here."

"Just another week. I have another place lined up."

"Not. Going. To happen."

He stomped off, leaving my mom