The Daemon's Disguise (Sequel to He Was A Dog + previously Out There)

Out There (Sequel to He Was A Dog) - Chapter 4

Blue:

There was a time in my life when I wished that I had an exciting life – I dreamt of excitement and bright lights and all the adventure in the world. Now? Now that those dreams had become a reality, I was beginning to miss the monotonous droll of everyday life. Just once, maybe one day, I would have liked to have gone to the shop without looking over my shoulder. To look through the TV Guide magazines and given a shit about what was on television that night. To know that monsters and daemons only existed in crappy novels and inside the average neurotic teenager’s head.

But that was evidently too much to ask.

When I thought back to the days after I’d come back from the Realm, the days when I had to explain to my disapproving parents that I was housing an infant, they were filled with the sort of uncertainty I had hoped would leave in the months to come. Not only did it stay, the uncertainty became paranoia – paranoia that something, anything could come through the portal in the woods. Something that could harm Elijah. And without Bruno to stop anything from happening, staying in the place I had grown up in no longer became an option.

So I packed my bags, caught a train to London and the rest was history. Well, as historical as three years could make it be. The point was that I had spent a very long time trying to create a normal life. I wanted Elijah to have some sort of normalcy in his life.

Obviously that was far too much to ask.

Stop staring, India, stop staring. No, put your head down. Do not ogle him. Bad! Bad! St-

“Can you photocopy this for me?”

A lazy drawl cut through my thoughts, causing me to blink quickly to try and look vaguely professional. Bruno – or what used to be Bruno – stood in front of my desk, hair pushed back carelessly and a smirk playing around his lips.

“I’m not a secretary,” I stated through gritted teeth.

“That wasn’t my question.”

Days of this. Weeks of this. If it became months of this, I’d be sorely tempted to resign. It was as though it had become piss on India month – deadlines, strange men at the door and now being mistaken for a PA? Hell no.

“Well, here’s your answer,” I muttered, passing the sheets of paper back to him. “I’m not going to photocopy them for you.”

I could have sworn, although it may have been lack of sleep, that his eyes flashed as I challenged him. However, whatever it had been corrected itself quickly, because moments later he was leaning down to my height, his eyes very blue.

“Miss Hart, are you saying no to me?”

“Mr Jenkins, are you trying to sound like the star of a cheap porn film?”

A moment passed.

His lips turned upwards, and I realised something. He was enjoying this. He enjoyed the thrill of the chase. Perhaps he wasn’t so unlike my Bruno as I had first thought. But there was a cold exterior there – I had become aware of the less than polite way he would speak to the rest of the staff in my office, and the petulant air he carried around him. From what I could gather, our Bruno had landed firmly on his feet – upper class upbringing, silver spoon, the whole shebang.

And not one clue about acting around people.

“I’m not a secretary,” I repeated, my eyes never leaving his. “Please remove yourself from my desk.” He complied, albeit reluctantly, and disappeared through the double doors of the office, glancing at me over his shoulder.