Wicked Game

by Bethan Tear

  But he didn't look annoyed now. He wasn't even sulking. He looked slightly embarrassed, as if he wasn't used to so much attention. She assumed that in his line of work he didn't have many daughters introducing him to their moms. Demons didn't normally make such a decent impression, and were certainly not candidates for a boyfriend or future husband.

  “Don't just stand there gawping,” Mom scolded Hazelle, flapping her hands at her, “Go and get changed. David booked the table for seven.”

  Hazelle turned quickly and ran upstairs, heart pounding like a drum, palms sweaty. Thankfully Kaden didn't follow. She could hear mom talking downstairs, telling him about Hazelle's childhood, showing him trophies, and medals and baby pictures. Hazelle cringed. Kaden wouldn't care about her past; he was only concerned with her present and getting into her pants.

  She showered, shaved her legs and debated between dresses, unsure of which one was more appropriate. She gave an exasperated sigh, knowing she was useless at this. It was a long time since she'd had a date, or anything resembling one, and she didn't have the company of men or any close female friends to ask for advice. She glanced nervously at a dress she had bought under peer pressure during her first year of college, a slim, black figure hugging number that would show daring amounts of her flesh, maybe more than she could bear. She'd shoved the dress in the wardrobe and never inflicted such a sight upon the world but what did she have to lose? At least it might discourage Kaden from trying to coax her into bed and she might be able to retain her dignity for a little longer.

  Nodding bracing to herself, she slipped the dress on, found a strappy pair of black heels, applied her make-up heavier than usual and left her hair down. She picked up the black sequin clutch bag, stocked with cellphone, ID, lipstick and emergency cash, should she need to make a quick exit, before she took a deep breath and turned to face the full length mirror.

  The dress was surprisingly flattering, black material clinging to her curves and giving the illusion that she actually had a figure, enhancing her cleavage, bringing her in at the waist, the heels making her legs look slimmer and longer. She'd never be as sophisticated as her mom, or as cute as Sophie, but all in all it could have been much worse. She shrugged on a jacket and walked carefully down the stairs, taking her time, not accustomed to such high heels, trying not to trip and humiliate herself.

  Kaden was there, stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching her slow descent, his onyx eyes following her every shaky step. She tugged the dress down bashfully and looked into this eyes, finding the pupils stretching uncommonly, inhumanly wide, like super-massive black holes, ones she could fall into if she wasn't careful.

  “Doesn't she look beautiful?” Mom cooed, as if Hazelle were a toddler flaunting her Sunday best dress. Mom looked to Kaden for confirmation.

  Kaden nodded once, his face inscrutable. Where was his usual dark disdain, his snide remarks and crude comments? Something in him must have changed during their time apart, which she still hadn't had chance to interrogate him about. That could wait till later. She'd left the flowers at work, not wanting to invite unwelcome questions from her mother, who would have undoubtedly made a big deal of it. Apparently she didn't need flowers as in an incentive to interfere in the affairs of her daughter and the demon she had invoked.

  A horn beeped outside.

  “That will be David,” Mom informed them, opening the front door and holding it for them.

  Hazelle stumbled, unsteady without the bannister to rely on, dreading having to walk to the car unaided when a warm hand slipped into hers, supporting her. She smiled shyly up at Kaden, still dwarfed by his height even with the heels. His mouth was a straight, unrelenting line, his eyes glittering black with distrust. She hadn't anticipated him being so chivalrous and, from his reaction, he usually didn't believe himself to be. Chivalry was for brave knights, not for the dragons they slew.

  David's car was parked on the curb, a shiny, snazzy car that Hazelle couldn't identify but she knew it would have cost more money than she made in a year. David was leant against it, his arms folded across his chest. When he saw them approaching he straightened his tie and opened the passenger door for Hazelle's mother.

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs Bryce.”

  “Call me Clarissa,” she insisted, flashing that effortless smile that enchanted any man above thirty in a heartbeat. The trick seemed to have skipped a generation, as far as Hazelle was concerned.

  “Clarissa.”

  She slid gratefully into the seat and he shut the door behind her.

  “Hello Hazelle,” he greeted her politely, “I hope you don't mind. It was your mother's idea.”

  Hazelle forced herself to smile, trying to hide her fear and doubt.

  “It's okay, Mr Thompson,” Hazelle lied, getting better at it every time,“Really.”

  “Please, tonight I am not your boss. Call me David.”

  “Thank you, David.”

  “And this must be Kaden.” David held his hand out to the demon. “Nice to meet you.”

  Kaden took his hand without a word. Hazelle realised that despite his forays with the women that summoned him he wasn't much of a people person.

  David drove them to the restaurant. It was overlooking the park in a swanky part of town, popular for its boutiques, bistros and beauty spots along the river. Hazelle and her mom rarely had the spare funds to dine here, and if they did it was only on very special occasions.

  Kaden sat silently by Hazelle in the back of the car, not a word crossing his lips, though she noted he didn't let go of her hand. She gave it a gentle, encouraging squeeze and offered him a small smile, letting him know she had forgiven him for the quarrel and was willing to make amends. He gave her no smile but blinked, something softening slightly in his eyes. That, and the flowers, were enough of an apology for her.

  Kaden didn't release her hand until they were shown to their table by the waitress, who was swinging her hips seductively and eyeing Kaden up like he was a prized piece of meat. Kaden ignored her existence completely, much to the woman's disappointment. He was strictly off the menu tonight. Hazelle glowered at her. She never thought she'd be territorial over a man, let alone a demon. She didn't know if it was the clothes, or his scent, or the atmosphere but something about Kaden was making her feel very agreeable towards him tonight.

  Their table was the best in the restaurant, according to the waitress, right beside a wall length, ceiling high fish tank. Light and shadow rippled across Kaden's enchanting face, accentuating his ethereal beauty as he slid a chair back for her and she accepted it, him pushing in the chair behind her like a gentleman. She was hypnotised by a school of colourful fish darting around the tank, trying not to look at Kaden who sat by her side or impose on mom and David across the table. They were already very friendly and over familiar with each other, which was an encouraging early indication, though it made Hazelle feel a little uncomfortable.

  David was in his element, ordering the most expensive bottle of champaign on the list as simply as she ordered a soda. Hazelle knew he was trying to impress her mother, just as she knew that money was one of the keys to her mom's heart, and much else besides that.

  The waiter poured the champaign into iced crystal glasses and David lifted his with a flourish.

  “To new friends,” he toasted, gesturing towards Hazelle's mom with a wide grin.

  “To new friends,” Hazelle and mom repeated, taking a sip from their glasses. The champaign was cool and sharp, too bubbly for Hazelle's palate. She would have preferred a coke.

  Kaden gestured to Hazelle with his glass, his eyes so rich, so piercing that she completely forgot about the fish.

  “To new friends,” he murmured, but instead of taking a sip from his glass he lent over and kissed Hazelle's cheek so gently, so tenderly she couldn't breath. She could feel herself flushing, a mixture of embarrassment and longing, and she found that she couldn't reprimand him for it.

  Mom was smiling, looking on approvingly. David made no comment
; too busy gawking at Hazelle's mom.

  The waiter brought the menus, bound in velvet, and Hazelle pursued hers avidly, peering over it at Kaden, determined not to let him deceive her. He was behaving like a human, like a gentleman, being kind and sounding sincere, but she couldn't allow herself to forget what he truly was, what he would always be. A demon. A wicked, sinful, sex starved demon whose sole purpose in this world was to get under her skin, both mentally and physically.

  “This is all very expensive, David,” Mom said in a low, disapproving voice. Hazelle knew it was an act. Could nobody show their true colours tonight? She knew her mother liked rich men, especially those who knew how to splash their cash.

  “Please feel free to order anything you like, all of you,” David said generously, giving exactly the right response, “Your daughter knows I can more than afford it.”

  Hazelle didn't confirm this. Instead she read the menu again, keeping her head down, trying to avoid unwanted attention. It was so posh that it gave the French names first, with the English translations underneath. It all sounded too fancy for her so she ordered the closest thing to burger and fries, knowing her mother was likely to do the complete opposite and choose the most garish, most expensive thing on the menu. She didn't disappoint. To Hazelle's surprise Kaden ordered the same thing as she did.

  They ate quietly to the sound of classical music, a man with a violin meandering between tables, taking requests. It was all very civilised, all very human, a little too much, even for Hazelle. Humans were always trying to distance themselves from their animal cousins, hiding behind the mask of evolution, though when it came down to it they all fucked and died the same way.

  Hazelle was disgusted by her own thoughts. Some of Kaden's crudeness must be rubbing off on her. In a way it made sense. Maybe humans and demons were no so different.

  Hazelle kept her thoughts to herself. There was polite chit-chat, compliments and more champaign. Kaden spoke only when spoken to, asking no questions of his own, oddly reserved. When a waiter came with roses David bought for two, one each for Hazelle and her mother. Mom, now quite drunk on wine, kissed David fully on the mouth to thank him. Kaden was more subtle, taking Hazelle's hand, unfurling her fingers and slipping her the rose, closing her fingers around it and holding his hand on hers for a moment longer than necessary. She inhaled the scent, pressing the petals to her lips, enjoying the soft, silky sensation against her skin, making her think of his skin on hers, so slick with arousal in the dream as he tasted her deepest, darkest secret...

  She felt a sudden twinge down below and jumped, knocking over her glass. Champaign stained the tablecloth and Hazelle apologised profusely as David mopped it up, ignoring the strange, almost knowing look Kaden gave her. She had to constantly remind herself that he couldn't read her mind, though he didn't need to be a mind reader when she was blushing like a beetroot.

  When the meal was finished Hazelle thanked David for his generosity.

  “It was my pleasure,” David told her, beaming, “Your mother and I will settle the bill. Why don't you wait in the car? Heads up, Kaden!”

  David threw his car keys. Kaden was quick; he caught them with one hand, his reflexes more than human. Hazelle thought David wanted some time alone with her mom and was probably giving her the chance to do the same with Kaden. She started to totter off in her high heels, slightly drunk, when a hand grasped hers and Kaden was pretending to be a gentleman again, escorting her out of the restaurant and round to the carpark.

  “Thank you for behaving like a human tonight,” she whispered, when she knew they were out of earshot. The carpark was dark and deserted but she didn't really know who or what could be lurking, watching her from the shadows. She shuddered; glad for once to have Kaden by her side.

  When they reached the car he pressed a button and a light flashed, turning the alarm off. He propped her up against the passenger door.

  “I didn't know anything about it. Your mother forced me into the suit of one of her dead husbands and I had to oblige. You're not mad, are you?”

  He sounded genuinely concerned that she might be angry with him. It was funny; she had always assumed he got off on her anger.

  She shook her head.

  “No, I'm not mad. I actually enjoyed tonight.”

  “I did too,” he spoke slowly, as if not quite believing it, “It has been a while since I dined with humans. I'm usually dining on them.”

  He winked playfully. She didn't miss his implicit meaning, and chose to ignore it.

  “Well, you passed the test with flying colours.”

  “Let me see if I can pass the next one,” he purred, pure lust flashing in his eyes. He had managed to keep it at bay for most of the meal and now it was looking for a release.

  She scowled up at him.

  “Don't push it.”

  He tipped his head back and laughed, reconnecting with the dark humour he had been missing tonight, and despite her indignation she found herself smiling too, trying to hide it in the dark, but as he was in her thoughts, in her dreams and desires there wasn't much she could keep secret from him.

  “You look quite pretty when you smile,” he complimented her, sounding so honest, “And I like the dress.”

  “I thought you would.”

  He unlocked the car door and held it open for her. She slid inside, closing her eyes, wishing the world would stop spinning. She smelt the rose again, her heart swelling.

  “I suppose part of my wish came true. This has been the best Valentine’s Day ever. Oh, and thank you for the flowers at work today.”

  When she opened her eyes Kaden was frowning down at her, moonlight making his hair glisten like blood, and then he uttered three words that made her heart stop beating.

  “Flowers? What flowers?”

  Chapter Six

  Hazelle cut her finger while slicing red peppers. She hissed with pain and dropped the knife, blood welling at the cut and dripping from her finger, splashing on the stainless steel blade.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She felt a form behind her, a body pressed against hers, a topless, well defined chest warming her back even through the material of her blouse. She froze, torn between melting into the embrace and using the knife to protect herself.

  “Let me see.”

  A tanned hand grasped her wrist with such delicate control, drawing her bleeding finger to soft, sensuous lips, hot breath making her fingertips tingle. She let out a harsh sigh, and began to relax when she realised that the man behind her was not a man at all but a demon, one who desired her, one who she was afraid to admit she desired too.

  His tongue flicked out, tickling her skin as he tasted her blood. She closed her eyes, forgetting the sting from the cut and feeling a sweet ache deep down below, one that spread through her body and blood as it demanded more.

  “Do you like this?” he asked huskily, giving her throat a long lick, “Or would you prefer my tongue elsewhere?”

  He didn’t release her hand as he reached round with his other one, his fingers stroking her in the most sensitive of places, making her wish there was no material between them. His hand slipped inside her pants and began teasing her, touching her intimately, his long fingers deftly moving in and out of her, increasing the longing ache down below to the point where it was almost painful.

  “You like this, don’t you?” he purred in her ear, nibbling it with his sharp teeth, “You little minx.”

  He began kissing her neck, his lips lingering on her throat, his teeth scraping her skin, sending shivers down her spine. It distracted her from the throbbing of her injured finger, exciting her more than it should have. She wondered how sharp his teeth were, if his eyes were entirely black, if it was the demon in him pleasuring her now of if he indulged her while still wearing his human façade.

  “You want more?” he growled, a mixture of man and beast. She nodded fervently, wondering if he was going to devour her, wishing that he would.

  He removed his fingers from
her sex and released her. He looked so calm, so tame, before he swept everything from the island counter, salad falling to the floor, a bowl shattering, the bloody knife clattering on concrete. She watched him with bated breath, extremely aroused, even more so when he demonstrated his desire to have her, to bury his long lust between her legs.

  He stalked her as she retreated from him, all of this part of their wicked game, his eyes glittering maleficent black, void of humanity, empty of emotion. It would have frightened her, if she didn’t know that he did feel, could feel under that cruel countenance. His fingernails had grown into black talons and he used them to rip open her blouse, exposing her bare breasts, the nipples pert, begging for his attention. He kissed them both, devoting his time between them equally, and then slid down her pants with such subtle skill, so that she was naked without realising it before he picked her up, his claws pricking her ass as she wrapped her arms around his muscle-corded neck. His hot, sultry breath was on her breasts as he buried his face in them, making her sweat and pound with yearning, with a craving for the savage beast that planned to ravage her.

  And she planned to let him.

  He threw her onto the counter, her skin pressed against the cold tiles but heated by his touch, by the fire in his eyes as he kissed her, his tongue curling around hers, demanding more from her, maybe more than she could give.

  “Relax. I won’t hurt you…unless you beg me to,” he said, his voice coarse with craving.

  She believed him, her body responding instinctively, and she realised then that they were about to go the whole way. They were about to fulfil his purpose for coming here, what she’d had in mind when she'd summoned him from the depths of hell. Her body burnt for him, and she obeyed.