Taming Demons for Beginners (The Guild Codex Demonized #1) - Annette Marie Page 0,18
better …”
He shot me an annoyed look, then rammed the next cookie into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
Which, I realized, he hadn’t. Aside from the few cookies I’d given him, I’d never seen anyone bring food down here. Did he need food? He was obviously capable of eating.
I unabashedly watched him devour the cookies in record time, my gaze darting from detail to fascinating detail. I hadn’t noticed anything about the other demon’s clothing, but now I studied this one’s garments.
The most familiar shape was his dark fabric shorts, topped with a thick leather belt. Worn leather straps crisscrossed his right shoulder and side, holding a metal armor plate over the left side of his chest. Two overlapping plates shielded his left shoulder, and a shining armguard covered his left forearm, strapped over a fitted sleeve that ran up to his bicep. Matching greaves protected his shins atop … leggings? I didn’t know what else to call the tight black fabric that ran from his ankles up over his knees. Strips of fabric wrapped around the arches of his feet, leaving the rest of his soles bare.
Aside from the shorts, the other fabric he wore seemed only for the purpose of protecting his skin from the metal armor and its leather straps. That left … a lot of bare skin.
He swallowed his final mouthful, then pinched the napkins between two fingers and his thumb. Red glowed over his fingertips. The paper smoldered, then erupted into flame. I jolted backward, but the fire consumed the flammable napkins in seconds. Ash fluttered to the hardwood, and I gulped.
His eyes, glowing as brightly as the other demon’s had, turned back to me. His lips curved into a wolfish smile that exposed a hint of white teeth—a smile that mocked me, taunted me. A savage, hungry smile.
Then darkness swept over the circle and it was an impenetrable black dome once more.
Chapter Eight
I flipped the lights on. “All right!”
A yellow glow swept across the library. Balancing a plate on one hand, I crossed to the dark dome and dropped down to sit crossed-legged.
Last night, after giving the demon his slice of cake, I’d spent three hours on the sofa reading The Summoner’s Handbook. Determined to gain a proper understanding of Demonica, I’d returned to Chapter Three and slogged through endless pages about summoning rituals. Even with my college-level fluency in Latin and Ancient Greek, the technical instructions were over my head.
While reading, I’d felt the demon’s gaze on me. He hadn’t spoken again and I hadn’t tried to engage him, but hidden in that darkness, he’d watched me read. It’d been … weird.
“Are you paying attention?” I asked. “Tonight, I brought you the entire cake—minus the piece you ate yesterday.”
I set the plate on the floor. Four thick white slices were buried beneath whipped cream, strawberries, blueberries, and chocolate drizzle. Technically, it wasn’t the rest of the cake—I’d eaten a piece too—but I saw no need to mention that.
A quiet snort from within the circle. “Should I be flattered, payilas?”
My cheeks heated with embarrassment. “If you don’t want it, I’ll just take my cake and leave.”
Like smoke caught in a breeze, the darkness in the circle swirled away. The demon cast me a sideways look, his lava-red eyes glowing dimly. He lay on his back in the middle of the circle, one leg bent at the knee, the other ankle propped on it, foot in the air. With an arm tucked behind his head like a pillow, he looked surprisingly comfortable lying on the hard, cold floor.
I drank in the sight, tracing the strange lines of his clothes, the shine of his armor, and his reddish-toffee skin. I should’ve been afraid, but his danger had been stripped, his weapons disarmed. He was a tiger at the zoo, a wild specimen safely behind bars, exotic and mesmerizing.
His gaze slid to the dessert. “What do you want this time?”
“I want your name.”
“Which one?”
I waved my hand. “Not your summoning name. Your personal name.”
A corner of his mouth curled—that mocking smile—and he swung into a sitting position. As he faced me, a flick of motion drew my eyes—something long and thin sweeping across the floor behind him.
My expression froze. “You—you have a tail?”
He looked over his shoulder. The long, whip-like appendage swept across the floor again, and as it stilled, I spotted two curved barbs on the end.
“You do not?” he retorted, facing me again. “How do you balance?”