I left the bar shortly after everyone's hormones started going crazy, since Kieran said he needed to clean up. I wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but it seemed like he wasn't either.

But all day I found myself smiling and looking forward to going to bed tonight.

What am I even doing?

I take a deep breath and turn off the lights, staring at my blank ceiling.

I can't help but like Kieran, and I'd be lying if I said spending time with him wasn't the highlight of my day. But things always start out great before they fall apart. I used to feel this way when I first met Victor. He was sweet and attentive and seemed crazy about me. I pride myself on being a good judge of character, but I was totally clueless about him. I didn't know he was crazy-possessive or had anger issues, let alone that he was a literal demon.

I just can't trust my own judgment anymore.

The warm glow and foggy air tell me I've drifted off to sleep.

I sit up and see Kieran leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Hey," I say groggily.

"Hey to you too," he says, taking a few steps closer to me.

"Was everything okay at the bar?"

"You mean besides my completely shattered focus?" He chuckles, puts his hands in his pocket, and shrugs. "It was fine. Turns out it didn't last once I stopped being tortured by a devious redhead."

I laugh and pull my hair behind my ears.

"What can I say? Payback's a bitch."

"Yeah, probably did have that coming."

"I didn't realize that would affect your powers, though. Is that what usually happens?"

"When I get turned on? No, that one was a first. But I'm still working out what my powers are and how to control them."

"You've said that before. How long have you had your powers?"

"About six months."

"What are they?" I ask. "And don't say you have supernatural seduction powers again. I'm onto you now."

He laughs, walking over to the bed and sitting down at its foot.

"Well, I can control Incubi and Succubi now. They're like a demon army. Apparently the Kings call the demons their Legion. Like, how pompous is that? I've gotta come up with a better name for that—my posse? My crew? Eh, I'm still working on that one."

"The Clawed Squad?"

He laughs so hard it sounds like more of a cough.

"Love that," he says with a smile.

"What else can you do?"

"Well, I can make fire in my hands. Sometimes when I'm angry or frustrated, my hands get really hot, so I have to watch that one."

"Can I?" I ask, reaching out to touch his hand.

His brows raise slightly and he takes a deep breath in.

"Sure." He places his hand on the bed with the palm facing up. "It's probably normal right now."

I run my fingers across his palm. His skin is cold, but in a good way—like laying your cheek against a cool pillow.

"You feel cold, actually."

"Yeah." I mindlessly stroke his hand and he swallows hard. "I usually run cold, when I'm not burning everything I touch."

"Wouldn't that make life difficult?"

"It makes mixing drinks difficult sometimes," he says with a smile. "Other than that, not really."

"You've never burned someone on accident?"

"Yikes," he says, his brows raised. "I haven't thought of that till now. I haven't so far. It's mostly when I'm feeling intense emotions."

"But what about sex?"

"If you insist," he says with a playful half-smile.

"Nice try." I roll my eyes. "No, I mean, wouldn't you risk burning someone when you touch them?"

"I haven't had that issue yet, but I don't think it will be a problem. Sex is just fun for me, no heavy emotions involved."

I nod, wondering if I envy him for that or pity him.

How do demons have sex, anyway?

"When you have sex, what's it like? I mean, as an Incubus?"

"Would you like a demonstration?"

Yes.

"No."

He fights back a smile and bites his cheek slightly.

"Just like everyone else. I've got all the human parts. Better than that, actually— I'm fully customizable."

"What?"

He crosses his legs and turns toward me, then runs a hand back through his hair. As he does, it turns a light blond.

I nearly choke on my laughter at the sight. It's not that he's bad-looking, but it's totally not his aesthetic. He's gone from brooding sex god to douchey indie-rock singer.

"Not a fan?" he asks, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiles.

"It's not really you." I shake my head and scrunch my nose.

He cricks his neck from side to side and the deep black shade returns.

"My point is, I can change anything about my body and appearance."

"So is this... what you really look like?"

He nods.

"This is me, original flavor."

If this is what he looked like before he became a demon, then his parents must've made their own deal with a devil.

This man is stunning.

He looks at me and licks his bottom lip.

"What are you actually doing right now?" I ask in a quick attempt to distract my wandering brain. "I mean, like, you're here, but is your body asleep? How does that work?"

"I'm at home, laying in bed right now." He readjusts so that he's laid out along the foot of my bed, leaning his head against his hand with an elbow on the mattress. "I'm not asleep really, just resting at the moment. I just close my eyes and focus on the person I'm looking for and then I'm there in their dreams."

"Is it always my bedroom?"

"If you were dreaming, I would appear in that dream. But if you're not having a dream of your own, I land here. Most of the time, you don't actually catch someone in the middle of a dream. Now that I'm King, I can actually control every part of it too."

"Like what can you do?

He waves his hand toward the open space in the center of my room and a large white llama appears.

"Holy fuck!" I say, jumping to my knees. "Can I... Can I pet it?"

"It's literally your imagination, babes. You can do anything you like."

I get out of bed and cautiously approach it. My hand reaches it and I can feel its ultra-soft fur beneath my fingers.

"How... how can I feel it? If I'm dreaming?"

"Not sure really. I didn't show up for orientation."

"But you can make a llama?"

"Yes and no."

"What does that mean."

"It means yes I can make a llama, but that's an alpaca."

I look at my new furry friend and back to Kieran.

"What's the difference?"

"Llamas look like dorky camels that might fuck your shit up if you look at them funny. Alpacas look like what happens when a poodle fucks a teddy bear."

I burst into laughter at his comment.

"Only you would put it that way."

"I'm one of a kind, baby." He gets up off the bed and walks closer until he's just a few feet from me. He opens his mouth to say something, but suddenly seems distracted by something behind me.

I turn around, but I don't see anything out of the ordinary.

"What?" I ask, turning back around to face him.

"Is that a collar?" he asks with an eyebrow raised. When I take another look, I see Pumpkin's black studded collar hanging on the hook behind me, still attached to his leach.

"Yeah. Wha-"

"I had no idea you were so kinky," he says. With a wave of his hand, the llama—no, alpaca—disappears and he makes his way over to the hook. He picks up the collar and playfully holds it up to his neck. "It might be a little big for me, but I can work with it."

"It's not kinky, it's my pig's collar."

I just liked the idea of giving Pumpkin a punk-rock collar so I could call him Punk-kin.

"Your pig?" he asks, tilting his head.

"Yes, my pig. I adopted him shortly after moving here."

"Is that just what you call your sex slave?"

I loll my head back and sigh.

"He's an actual pig. A kunekune."

He smiles and puts the collar back, then walks back to me. He brings his hand up to the side of my face and sweeps a lock of my hair behind my ear.

"Can I take you to dinner?" he asks, his voice low and soft.

It takes everything in my power to pull my eyes from his, but after a bit of a struggle I find myself staring at the floor.

I want to say yes, but I'm not ready to jump into another disastrous relationship when I'm barely free of my last one. I don't want to go through that again.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"It's okay, no pressure." He smiles, but it's weaker than usual. "I'm happy to wait around till you say yes."

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