Demons (Darkness #4)(40)

“Do you not remember me when you first met me?”

“I was afraid of you, also.”

Chapter 12

I stepped out of the bathroom amid a cloud of hairspray. I strolled by the full-length mirror to check out my wares. Sparkly midnight blue dress, check. A lacy and intricate necklace draping down my cle**age in a shimmer of diamonds, check. Dull brown hair coated with a ton of product for a high gloss, check.

Yup, I was rockin’ it!

I ran my fingers along the exquisite, though probably extremely expensive, diamond necklace. Stefan had laid it on my pillow one night, asking me to wear his collar. Obviously I punched him, which he thought hilarious, but the sentiment brought tears to my eyes. It was beautiful, and what’s more, it wasn’t given because of an occasion. It wasn’t my birthday or Christmas—it wasn’t even Valentine’s Day—he’d just wanted to show his regard for me. He wanted to remind me that his job was to make sure I had everything I could possibly want. It was his way of providing for me.

This species was brutal, violent, and barbaric at times, but man-oh-man did they know how to treat a woman. Once you went homo sacturine, you never went back.

I paused for a moment. I was pretty sure that was their scientific name. But it was tucked into one of Toa’s long-winded explanations, so I really couldn’t be sure. People, but not humans. Male, but not man. Douche, and completely ridiculous at times.

Although, homo meant human, so technically, they were human. Don’t tell them that, though. They’ll then lecture you on how human scientists noticed the differences in the few specimens they found, but had no answers to define those differences. At least, not before they lost their memory. And their research.

I shook my head and headed out to the living room. If I wasn’t careful, Toa’s voice would be on a lecture loop inside my head—that’s how much I heard him speak.

As I stepped into the living room I caught movement on the couch. I smiled in greeting, only to see the world’s ugliest crocheted quilt in the making.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Charles. “And why can’t you choose some decent colors for once?”

Charles’ eyebrows crawled up his forehead. “This is for a little girl. So these colors work. Little girls like green and pink, you said so yourself. And I am sitting here because the Boss wanted to check in with Jameson about the various patrols. Everyone is expecting another demon sighting—the Boss just wants to make sure the patrols keep their eyes open and know what to look for.”

“Uh, huh. Except, that is puke greenish-yellow, and fluorescent orange-pink. No one would want those colors, Charles. Boy, girl, your people, mine—no one. A dog maybe. Maybe a dog wouldn’t mind.”

“Well, then,” Charles answered, unperturbed. “I’ve changed my mind. I am making this for a little dog. There. Happy?”

“Do you know anyone that has a dog?”

“The same number of people that I know of who have a little girl.”

I grinned. “Let me guess—“

“None. Exactly,” Charles cut me off. “My genius can’t just sit around and wait for someone to request a quilt.”

“Oh, genius. Is that what you’re calling it? I can think of a couple other words.”

“Insightful, handsome, great with his tongue…”

I tapped my chin in mock thought. “Nope. None of those.”

“How would you know? You never let me show you how thoroughly I dip the wick.”

“I have someone better for that. Right? Didn’t you say you couldn’t handle Darla? And that you had no idea how Stefan did?”

Charles gave me a pronounced shiver. “I just lost interest in this conversation.”

“Didn’t you wonder how the Boss could go without ever—”

“I said I was done.”

“—giving blood? How he could keep—”

“Seriously, Sasha, she was a black spot on my record.”

“—her in her place? Beneath him?”

Charles stood up and tucked his project under his arm. “Foul play. That was below the belt.”

Chin high, Charles strolled out of the room, stray pieces of yarn dangling behind him. I couldn’t help but snicker—score a point for me. Although, now I had no one to talk to.

As I was making my way to the window, the sky lightening with the approaching dawn, the door opened for the second time. Half expecting Jonas, because I always seemed to have one or other hanging around, I threw a glance behind me. And stopped dead.

Stefan stood in the doorway, broad shoulders nearly touching the door jam on each side. He wore a perfectly tailored suit that molded to his body in a sleek and delicious way. Forget a dress shirt, the jacket looked so much more heavenly.

“Hi,” I breathed, that constant tingling niggling at my core again. The man could turn me on by just showing up.

“You have our link blocked. Why?” he asked in that masculine growl, scouring me with his gaze. “Gods, Sasha, you look beautiful. The best of your species.”

I gushed and strolled toward him, really trying for sexy. I opened the link, feeling desire and the underlying love radiating between us. “I was experimenting with my link to Dominicous. My…uh, father. Kinda.”

A soft smile graced Stefan’s handsome face. He let the back of his fingertips trail down my skin. “He is your father now. Enjoy it. Relish it.”