A Thief In The Night

Deep Dish

Bill

"What are we having?" She asked.

"Lasagna." Or something that resembled it, I thought. It was looking a little overdone. It's what I get for being distracted. At that moment, the cause of the distraction appeared over my shoulder.

"Well, maybe the center will be alright," she said.

I turned slightly to look at her. Izabella's face displayed a healthy amount of amusement and a little more of something else, surprise maybe?

"You're surprised I can cook? Or well, made an attempt to."

"Surprised, and curious. Why not magic things up, heat it to perfection, or whatever. You are a demon."

"Lasagna is tricky. Food is tricky. There's a difference between boiling a pot of water, or heating a cup of coffee and baking. Besides, it turns out like shit. The flavors don't work as well as if you take the shortcut."

"Oh, so you have tried it."

I was rewarded with that sultry laugh I heard the night before. Was it only the night before? Forty-eight hours with her and I was... smitten. Also, I was slightly disgusted with myself at the same time. Nathan had certainly moved on. Why did I feel guilty?

Yes, demons do feel guilt. We have emotions, and even, gasp, a soul. We're able to ignore it without the more physical consequences and resulting mental breakdown. You have to if you live long enough, otherwise, the weight of existing can drag you down. It's the reason demons take on other identities. If you can name it, I've probably been some version of it. I've even been a horse. Don't judge.

"We're all young and foolish once."

"I have a hard time believing you were ever young."

"Why do you say that?"

"Theft is the third oldest crime in the world."

"I'm not that old. There is more than one of us in the world. Not many, but enough. We also die from time to time, though its been a while since I was in that kind of danger."

"I'm not surprised. You have a pretty cushy set up here, Professor." Her hands wrapped around me and drifted lower. I closed my eyes and let her do what she wished. I hadn't read murder in her soul. Even if I had, I'd likely still take the risk of letting my guard down. She invoked more in me than I had felt in a while. It was as intoxicating as a good whiskey.

A few hours later, I extracted myself from the bed and tidied up the dinner and wine that was never touched. When I went back to the bedroom, I picked up her dress from the floor and hung it, along with the matching underwear.

"That couldn't have waited until morning?" I heard her murmur from my bed.

I removed my robe and laid it at the end of the bed before I slipped under the sheets and moved in next to her. "Maybe. I didn't want to disturb your sleep. You seemed peaceful and all I had were wicked thoughts."

"That sounds a bit cliché coming from you. However, now that I'm awake, what did you have in mind?"

She pressed herself into me, and a low groan was torn from my throat. My hands drifted down her sides, as my tongue and lips kissed along her shoulder. It was the first time I heard her hiss as if I had done something painful to her. It made me stop.

I looked at her shoulder and realized that there were small imprints of my lips and splotches along her skin where I had licked and kissed it. I don't remember that from last night, though last night was much more of a frenzy than tonight had been.

"I've hurt you." I sat up, concerned. None of my other lovers had reacted to me like this. It was clear that something I'd done had marred her marble-toned skin. She sighed. I reached over to turn on a small lamp at the bedside table to see the damage more clearly.

She didn't move. Didn't even flinch when the light came on. I traced a finger over what clearly looked like red, angry burns along her shoulder. "I don't understand how I could have done this." I wanted to heal it, but I wasn't capable of that. It's the first time in my long life that I wished I could heal someone. It was slightly unnerving.

"I should have told you, but we were enjoying ourselves."

"What should you have told me?"

"My skin can be burned by moisture, specifically water. I'm still able to eat and drink as long as I'm careful. It's only my external epidermal layers that are affected."

"How did I not realize it last night?"

"I had you fairly distracted. Plus, you seem to like kissing. This is the first you've ventured away from my lips. However, you did give me this yesterday." She lifted her left hand and showed me the back of it. There was a perfect imprint of my lips burned into her flesh.

I put more space between her and myself. Worried suddenly for her safety.

"Did anyone ever mention to you that you don't sweat?" She said as she rolled over to face me.

"No, but now that you've said it, it makes sense. Demons don't typically need to perspire. Heat isn't something that's ever bothered me."

"It's one of the first things I noticed. It's why I usually have people keep their clothes on; to help absorb the moisture. I realized you were different and I wanted the extra contact."

"So that's why you let me take off your dress."

"Yes." She sat up herself and came closer. I stayed still as she reached up and ran her hand through my hair. "You're also the only person I've seen twice. I generally don't come back for more. Last night was... exceptional."

I wanted to kiss her, but I was afraid of hurting her again. "Does it hurt?"

"They look worse than they are actually. Sometimes, I even like how it feels on my skin."

I looked at her. "Oh my. You are playing with fire."

"In all the best possible ways."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes."

Such a simple answer. Need, desire, and protectiveness warred with my want to show her affection. Like someone trying to bargain with a demon for their soul, I was inextricably doomed.