Cursed [Book 1] ✔

Chapter 22: You Lyin', Cheatin'...Demon

I didn't imagine my wake-up would be at a bar. Most people go to a bar to stamp out truths they rather would have been kept buried. Me, I had to go to a bar to find the truth. Rather, the truth found me.

I was on a hunt, like most nights. It was a Saturday night, so Tristan was working late at the restaurant. I could have hung around in the kitchen with him, but it was nice to have time away from him every so often. Lately, we had been so joined at the hip that our relationship ran the risk of burning out too soon. Our sex-life was far from going stale, but some days it felt like we had nothing to talk about.

Tristan may have been right in saying that we had a lot in common in terms of our abilities and the state of our humanity, but there was a lot that we did not have in common.

For instance, I had been raised as a human with moral values. Tristan had never had a childhood, or learned about moral values beyond the actions he had observed and mimicked from the humans around him. Sure, we had both died and come back to life, but he had made that particular trip three times over, in different centuries each time. Then, there was the matter of his power to manipulate matter.

He didn't use it often, but when he did, it gave me a chill. Once, at "Dave's Shack," we had been alone in the restaurant. It was after closing time, and we were sharing a meal of burgers, fries, and a milkshake Tristan had prepared. After a couple of sips on the thick, chocolate shake, I needed the salty goodness of fries to counter the sugar. Ketchup was a must with fries. Unfortunately, I only saw a bottle of mustard on the table.

Tristan could feel my relaxed state change. "What? What's missing?"

"No ketchup." I pointed at the mustard bottle.

"Well, that's no problem."

Tristan placed a hand on the neck of the mustard bottle. In a few seconds, the dull yellow within the glass was flooded with red. Presto! Change-o! The red took over, and the mustard was no more.

Tristan handed me the bottle. "There ya go."

His off-handedness about the transformation made me uneasy, as did the transformation itself. It showed just how alien he really was.

All these thoughts and more went through my head as I sat at the lacquered bar, sipping my drink. Usually, I didn't stop for downtime during a hunt. But I was on the trail of a scent that was eluding me. The end of the trail had led me to the bar, and it was full of human scents masking my target's own special perfume.

Every sip of my soda allowed me the chance to discreetly scan the crowd in search of Lillin on the prowl. When a body settled onto the barstool to my right, I knew my prey had found me. Without turning my head, I could smell that the offensive odor was unmistakably coming off of the thing next to me. I brought my glass to my lips, trying to look casual.

I needn't have tried anything.

"What are you drinking?" From the sound of it, I was dealing with a demon that looked like a man.

To maintain my relaxed façade, I enjoyed a slow sip before answering. "Coke."

"Coke? Like rum and Coke?"

"No, just coke."

"Huh." This seemed to strike it as odd. "You in AA?"

"Not at all. I don't like to drink while I'm working."

I still hadn't turned to face it, but I could hear its lascivious grin.

"A working girl. Well...," I remained quiet and let it continue on with its assumption. "How would you like to work for me? Right now?"