Demon Kissed - Katie May Page 0,23

game? The task he wants me to do? Something else entirely? But that “it” kind of makes me want to piss my pants. Especially when he traces a finger down my neck, making the hairs rise on the back of it, but also making my pulse pound—for reasons I do not want to address, because they are clearly delusional and my body has a dysfunctional attraction to crazy.

“Fine,” I hiss, hurling daggers with my eyes at the two dice. “Roll.”

“Your wish is my command.” He throws the dice in the air—so high that I lose sight of the two little cubes in the glare from the sun—and a moment later, they pummel my head. I yelp and jump to the side as they land unceremoniously on the ground.

“Ohhhh. That’s too bad,” Akor purrs, and I stare in dumbfounded shock at the dice, which have a six and a five glaring back at me. Eleven. Akor’s choice.

Fuck.

“I don’t…” I begin, stumbling over the words. Helplessly, I shake my head back and forth. Not happening. This is not…

Who am I kidding? It’s totally fucking happening.

Akor’s grin is pure sin—if I didn’t believe he was a demon before, I sure as fuck do now.

“Do you like shopping?”

Are you serious? All that fear? For nothing? I smack a hand against my forehead. I’d been picturing slaughtering baby goats inside of a pentagram.

Shopping? We’re going fucking shopping?

Demons who play matchmaker, subject themselves to polka, and take teenage girls shopping have just invaded my life. Maybe I need to rethink my ideas on Heaven and Hell.

Akor insisted we take my car, though that could be because Akor didn’t have one. I have no idea how the man got to me in the first place. Magic? Demon powers? Was he hiding in my trunk?

We get a lot of looks when we show up at the nearest mall, located thirty minutes away from town. And when I say a lot of looks, I mean a lot.

Akor doesn’t exude raw sex like Van does, but he’s certainly a sight to behold. With his blond hair styled artfully in a pink mohawk and the deliciously tight athletic shirt he squeezed into, he embodies a dangerous type of sexy that girls flock to.

It also doesn’t help matters that the lunatic is singing at the top of his lungs. He’s singing “Demons” by Imagine Dragons. I’m unsure if he’s being humorous, ironic, or sincere. It’s pretty hard to tell, just like with everything he does.

I’m not gonna lie, he has a pretty damn good voice. It’s lower than I would’ve expected, with a sultry undertone. Any woman would be stupid not to glance his way. Even the men do when he jumps up on a mall bench and starts belting out the refrain.

Me? I stand awkwardly and self-consciously to the side, probably looking like the child he’s nannying, still in my pleated skirt and academy-issued jacket.

“Come on, dove!” He grabs my hand and practically drags me into an upscale store that sells everything from golden rings to wedding dresses.

My parents make a hefty sum of cash, and I, in turn, receive a pretty generous allowance for babysitting Adam. But the things in this store? Oh, yeah, I’d be grounded for life for spending that much, and that’s saying something, because I’m pretty sure my parents forget I exist most days. Or they forget that they gave birth to me in the first place.

“Akor,” I hiss, dragging my feet. “I can’t afford anything here.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the demon dismisses with a wicked grin. “I’ll handle it.”

Before I can mount another protest, a pretty sales clerk steps up to us. She’s everything I’ll never be and everything I sort of want to be. Outfitted in a teal skirt and blouse that accentuates her curves, she could be plucked straight from a high-fashion magazine. Her blonde blob is streaked with artificial silver highlights that emphasize her high cheekbones and grayish-blue eyes. Normally, that color would be forgettable, but she somehow manages to look like a freaking goddess.

“How can I help you today?” She directs her question at Akor, because why not? Honestly, I can’t even blame the poor woman for giving him her attention when the only other occupant in the room is me. If I didn’t know that he was batshit crazy and a literal demon from Hell, I’d probably do the same. Even though he looks like some punk-ass rocker, the confidence he emanates screams power and money.

Akor grabs my shoulder and