Demon Kissed - Katie May Page 0,17
the end, turning the statement into a tentative question.
“Oh, yeah. Definitely. We can’t really talk in gym, but AP Lit will be lit.” And then, to add fuel to my shame fire, I fist pump the air. Because I’m just that horrifically awkward.
AP Lit will be lit?!? Really?
I’m dimly aware of Zolroth grabbing my elbow, his touch tantalizingly soft, as he steers me in the opposite direction of William Washington, aka the love of my life.
“What…what?” I finally muster enough willpower to wrench my arm away from Zolroth’s. “What the fucking hell are you doing?”
“Granting your wish, of course,” Zolroth responds with a soft smile. “You want that William guy to love you, correct?”
“What? No!” Heat engulfs both of my cheeks, and I cast a glance in both directions to ensure no one has overheard his statement. Fortunately, the halls have emptied out, and even William has retreated to his third hour class, one of the few he shares with me. “Keep your voice down, will you?” I hiss, quickening my pace.
Third period for me is gym class—the bane of my existence. I envy the men and women capable of running a full mile without going into cardiac arrest. Seriously, mad respect from me. Our gym teacher, Mr. Harthorne, is a hardass who once served in the U.S. Marines. Since he retired ten years ago, he decided his skills were better served in torturing high school students.
When Zolroth continues to keep pace with me, that damn, unrepentant smile firmly in place, I cast him a glare capable of curdling milk. “Why are you following me?”
“We have third hour together,” he responds cheekily. When I stop walking and stare up at him, dumbfounded, he boops my nose.
Boops my freaking nose.
Gracing me with another one of his stupidly perfect smiles, he continues walking in the direction of the gym. After a brief moment of hesitation, I hurry to keep pace with him. Since we went in the opposite direction of William, we’re forced to take the long way through the halls. I have to endure an extra two minutes with my hideously sexy tormenter.
“I meant, why are you stalking me? Why are you here?”
He rolls his eyes as if my questions are nothing but an annoying inconvenience. “I told you, sweetheart. You summoned us, and we can’t leave until we grant your wish.”
“First, don’t call me sweetheart.” I shudder at the term of endearment. Just who does this fucker think he is? Sure, he’s sexy as hell (pun unintended), but he’s also certifiably insane. “And second, I didn’t summon you, because demons aren’t real, and thus, you’re not a demon.”
Logic, my friends.
A nagging voice in my head conjures up images of Asshole’s—excuse me, Raz’s—red eyes and those keen horns protruding from the top of his head.
I sweep those images beneath the proverbial rug, happy to live in denial for a moment longer.
We’re silent the rest of the way, but I can feel Zolroth’s eyes on me like a brand—the type used to mark cattle. That’s what I am to him, after all. Prey. He’s the big, nasty predator, and I’m nothing but the trembling, terrified little girl who he thinks he can destroy.
Not today, Satan. Not today.
Without bidding him a goodbye, I hurry into the girl’s locker room, only breathing easier when he’s completely out of view.
“Did you see him?”
The whispered words float to me as I change out of my uniform and into the school-issued shorts and T-shirt combo.
Are they talking about Zolroth? Because, yes, I most definitely saw him.
“He’s so hot,” another girl exclaims with a giddy laugh.
“Off-limits,” a third voice snipes. “Too bad, though. I would ride him for days.”
Off-limits?
My confusion grows as Stacy hurries into the locker room and opens up the locker beside mine. As she changes into her gym uniform, I notice that she forgoes a bra, her nipples on display through the thin shirt. Come to think of it…all of the girls are choosing not to wear a bra today.
“Did you see him?” my best friend whispers with a nervous laugh.
“Zolroth?” I question. I know that we’re a small school, but I’m surprised news already traveled this fast.
But when Stacy’s brows furrow in confusion, I realize there’s more going on than I initially expected.
And that scares the shit out of me.
“No, I meant Mr. Dämon.”
“Mr. Dämon?” I repeat in disbelief. I get goosebumps all over my arms, and the taco lie feels like it might become a reality as my stomach gurgles nervously. Does she