Neon Blue by E Frost (best big ereader .TXT) 📕

Although my thought wasn’t directed at him, he chuckles.

Why are you trying to get me drunk?

I got my reasons. Now drink up. You promised.

I did. And even though I’m dealing with a demon, I keep my promises. I take another swallow, which is just as nice as the first. My belly’s still quivery from my orgasm, and the saki’s warmth calms the frantic fluttering to a mellow glow.

The demon puts an arm around me, enveloping me in his heat and the smoky, spicy smell of his skin. Together, we watch the sushi chef finish his masterpiece. Whether it’s the saki or the sex or something else, sitting with him is companionable. I don’t break the atmosphere with questions until the sushi boat is finished and the demon takes it to a table.

I sit down across from him, glance at him ruefully when he refills my cup again. Take an obligatory sip before pointing at one of the pieces of sushi. “Any idea what that is?”

“Sea urchin,” he responds. “Give it a try.”

I do, and it’s wonderful. Chewy and fresh as salt spray. “Good,” I say when I’ve finished it. Then I ask the question that’s been haunting me since the car ride. “Why do you care about being safe?”

He raises a dark eyebrow as he surveys the sushi. “Why’re you askin’?”

“Because of what you said in the car. About safety being all there is.”

He selects a piece of sushi, chews slowly. “You ever been really afraid?”

“Yes. Especially recently.”

He ignores my pointed comment and takes a piece of sushi with a ruffled, reddish edge that looks like a cross-section of tentacle. I’m definitely not eating that. “Ever been afraid ‘cause you knew what might happen was worse than dyin’?”

I huddle in the chair, and nod slowly, thinking of my nightmare. “Yes,” I whisper.

“Mmm.” He chews the tentacle for a moment. “You live alone. No one depends on you. You died tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter to anyone.”

I glare at him. “Well, thank you very much!”

He stretches his legs out under the table until he catches my ankle between his. “I’m just statin’ a fact. You’re alone, sweet meat. You got friends, but they don’t depend on you. All you got to worry about is yourself. You’ve been afraid, but only for yourself. You don’t have to worry about what would happen to the ones who count on you if you got yourself killed. I do. It’s worse than just bein’ afraid for yourself.”

“You have people who count on you?” It comes out resentfully, because I’m still stinging from his last comment.

“Yeah. Demons ain’t loners. We like company.”

He hands me a piece of the artfully-striped salmon while he bites into its mate. I eat slowly, still a little resentful, even though the fish is meltingly creamy. “You said you had several thousand siblings. Are they the ones that count on you?”

“Not all of ‘em. Just my clutch.”

“Your clutch? Sounds like a bunch of chickens.”

He chuckles. “Eighteen of us hatched out at about the same time. We’ve stayed together since.”

“Eighteen. That’s a lot of . . . people depending on you.”

“You can call us demons. An’ it’s only six now. That’s all that’s left.”

“Oh.” I pause for a moment. Then curiosity gets the better of me. “What happened to the rest?”

“Killed.”

“By humans?” I ask in a whisper, afraid of the answer.

“Nope, mmm, yeah, one was killed by humans, now that I think about it.”

“And the others?”

“The old man ate a few.” His grin morphs into the shark’s leer, full of teeth and cruelty. I shiver. “Infanticide’s one way to take back the power he expended creatin’ us. Very popular with the older set. Th’ others were killed in one war or another. Drink your saki.”

I take another obligatory sip, chase it with a piece of spicy tuna. “I didn’t realize demons fought in human wars.”

He frowns. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“You said they were killed in wars.”

He shakes his head. “Hellwars, sweet meat. Not the little games you humans play with gunpowder and cordite.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know there were wars in Hell. I can’t imagine what they’d fight over. “Have you fought in them?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t seem like a soldier.”

“What d’you know about being a soldier?”

I shrink into myself, feeling stupid. “Nothing.”

He tilts his head to the side, watching me. His eyes are dark, but not soft. “Why’re you askin’ so many questions?”

I shrug uncomfortably. “I want to know about you. You know everything about me and I barely know anything about you.” And learning more about him is the only chance I have of finding a way to send him back. But I carefully stuff that thought to the back of my brain.

He goes back to the sushi. “I’m not complicated, sweet meat.”

“That’s not exactly true,” I say slowly, not wanting to offend him, but not wanting him to close off this line of conversation, either. “There’s more to you than just that.” I wave vaguely behind me, towards the bathroom.

“What, ‘cause I want to say when and how?”

I nod. “And because you care about your siblings’ safety.”

He eats two pieces of sushi before he responds. I study him while he eats. The crimson fall of his dreadlocks. His hooded eyes and the clean lines of cheek and jaw. The faint quirk of his mouth as he chews. The smoky scent of his skin fills my nose when I take a breath. It makes my belly tighten. He doesn’t seem bothered by my scrutiny and I don’t have much choice about watching him. My eyes gravitate to him no matter where else I try to look.

He finally says, “I just do what needs doin’. Drink up.”

I finish the saki in a warm swallow and put my cup down between us, expecting him to refill it immediately. He doesn’t. I wait, watching him curiously, feeling the buzz from the saki spreading upwards from my stomach.

“Can’t remember the last time I had a real conversation with a human,” he says eventually. “Most of you just force me to divvy