Demon Kissed - Katie May Page 0,58

Blood cakes his hair to his scalp, and I notice a few more streaks on his cheeks.

Jason. Is. Dead.

And Akor is currently shoving his corpse into the back of a goddamn minivan that has a bumper sticker that reads “Family 4 Life!”

“Kat, please,” Akor begs, taking a step closer to me. It’s only then that I notice the blood covering both of his hands. I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed it before, but now, it’s all I can see. That thick, red liquid stains his naturally pasty skin. I wonder if it stains his soul the same way?

I’ve caught him red-handed.

And it’s not punny. Oh fucking hell, no, it’s not funny at all. My heart has left my body and is currently hiding behind the light post on the far end of the parking lot.

“Get away from me.” My voice is barely audible as I continue to back away. Step by step by step.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“It was an accident!”

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Zolroth demands as he stalks forward, seemingly out of nowhere. “Oh…fuck.”

He grabs my waist immediately, his touch almost hesitant and unsure, but I shy away. I can’t allow any of them to touch me right now. My skin suddenly doesn’t feel like my own, too itchy, too thick, too…contaminated. Akor has fucking contaminated me.

I know my thoughts are turning illogical and incoherent, but I can’t find it within me to give a damn.

A guy is dead.

And Akor can plead with me all he fucking wants to, but he still murdered him. Jason’s blood is still staining his hands like a scarlet letter.

“What did you do?” Raz’s voice is a guttural growl—more demon than human—when he materializes mere inches from me. I jump, startled, but he ignores me and strides towards the trembling, pink-haired demon.

“I didn’t fucking mean to!” Akor shouts, pulling at the short blond sides of his hair, staining them red. Abruptly, he collapses to the ground, a strangled sound escaping his parted lips. “He fell. Hit his fucking head on the dumpster. I. Didn’t. Mean. To!” The last words are a scream, a cry into the abyss, willing for someone to hear him. But instead of looking at his leader, his gaze is focused solely on me. “I swear to you that it was an accident.”

“The dumpster, you say?” Van’s voice is as nonchalant as one would be when discussing the weather. Turning towards the lust demon, I watch him place a finger to his chin, tapping slightly. “Fuck, I think there are cameras over there.”

“Van, can you remove the footage? Kastros, I need you to clean up the site. Zolroth, you’re with me and Akor. We need to bring this body with us.” Raz spits out orders as fast as one of those automated baseball pitching machines.

“Wait, wait, wait! Hold on!” I’m borderline hysterical at the moment. Honestly, can you fucking blame me? Akor just killed a man, for fuck’s sake. “Shouldn’t we call, I dunno, the cops or something?” A deranged snort of laughter escapes me before I can rein it in, and then it just goes downhill from there. I don’t know if I want to scream, cry, or laugh hysterically, so instead, I do an awkward combination of all three. The final result is probably the equivalent of a parrot getting anally fucked by a hyena.

But, like, a girl can’t say for sure. (Fine. But “zootube” was an accidental typo, okay? Then curiosity won out. But my questionable internet history isn’t what’s important right now.)

“Van?” Raz raises a single eyebrow, and that one, eloquent look speaks paragraphs.

“On it.”

Before I can protest, before I can scream, Van is dragging me back in the direction of the bowling alley.

“What are we doing? Van? Van!” When he refuses to answer, beautiful lips pressed into a straight, stubborn line, I hiss, “Fuck you.”

Ignoring my tantrum, Van enters the building and bypasses the line until he’s standing directly in front of the counter.

Directly where I saw Jason only a few hours earlier.

Oh. My. God.

Tears prick my eyes instinctively, as they would when you mourn any life that was taken away too soon, but I remind myself to keep a level head.

You can’t fall apart now, Katrina. Give it a few more minutes until you’re alone. Then you can have a complete mental breakdown, m’kay?

The young woman now manning the counter blinks repeatedly up at Van. Her eyes glaze over, and her lips part slightly as crimson enters both of her cheeks.