Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

" S o, what's it like being a demon?" I ask Damon after Rachel brings me my second drink.

"It's great for the most part," he says. "I can go where I want, when I want, and do what I want. Until I get an assignment from the Dark Lord. Then I might be busy for a while."

"How come we've never seen demons around here before?" I ask. "I mean, all manner of supernatural creatures call Mystic Cove home. Why haven't you or others of your kind been spotted around here?"

"As I said, I know Mystic Cove well. I've been around a lot. I just didn't look like this. We can change our appearance at will."

"What made you choose this visage?"

"This is closest to my natural form," he says. "Since your daughter captured me, there was no reason to pretend I was something I wasn't. So, I decided to be myself. Almost."

"Almost?" I notice that my second drink is almost gone. I need to slow down. I don't have much tolerance for alcohol since I don't go out as much as I did in my pre-kid days. I take a drink of water.

"Let's just say that classic depictions of demons aren't that far off."

That makes me snort a laugh. "What? Little red goblins with spikey tails and pitchforks?"

A long, black, spiked tail materializes behind Damon. "Something like that."

I almost choke on my saliva as my mind goes to naughty places imagining what Damon could do with that tail. In my inebriated state, I'd probably faint if all he did was stroke my leg with it. Wow, maybe I have been single for too long. Well, I still can't see myself getting into anything serious any time soon. But just…maybe a fling now and then wouldn't hurt. I can't believe I'm even thinking such things. But then again, I've never been attracted to anyone as much as I am to Damon since Mark died. I can't believe I just admitted that to myself. I'm attracted to Damon. But then again, considering how all the other women he's been around have been acting, most women find him attractive. He's the quintessential tall, dark, and handsome stranger we all say we want.

"Are you all right?" Damon asks, a playful smirk on his lips.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You look like you are about to pass out."

I realize that I am leaning a bit too hard on my hand, my eyelids a little too heavy. I take a breath and sit up straight. "It's been a while since I've had a night out with free rein on drinks."

"That is obvious," Damon says, taking another sip of his whisky.

I take a drink of water. "That must suck, that demons can't get drunk. Why bother drinking, then?"

Damon shrugs. "I still enjoy the taste. The burn as it slides down my throat."

"Here you go," Rachel says, bringing our food out. She places a huge steak in front of me with a side of mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli, and a side salad.

"Did I order this?" I ask. I don't usually eat that much meat, and I never order steak. It's just not one of my favorite foods.

"You asked for the special," Rachel says. "This is it. I told you what it was."

"Right, sorry," I say, though I clearly had not been listening to her. "I think I've just had too much to drink already."

"Honey, you're only just getting started. But let me bring you something a little less potent."

"Thanks," I say, unfolding my napkin. At least there is a salad and vegetables. Though, I do need something to soak up the alcohol. I decide to cut up the steak and put it on the salad.

"So," I say to Damon, "what do you do when you aren't being a demon?"

"I'm an art and antiquities dealer out of Milan," he says.

I nearly choke on my steak. "Are you serious?" I ask when I finish coughing.

"Yes. Why does that surprise you?"

"I guess I just didn't imagine you doing anything specific," I say. "I thought you'd been running around causing havoc or just lounging on a beach."

"I do travel and explore," he says. "I have a house here in Mystic Cove as well. Another one in Haiti and one in Nice, France. The fact that I can look like anyone and speak all human languages gives me a large advantage in my trade."

"But why bother with a trade at all? I assume you don't need money."

"True, I don't just work for money. But work feeds the soul. It gives me a sense of purpose, of fulfillment. It is exciting to find just the right item for just the right person."

"Wait," I say. "Are you… You aren't Jamal Jefferson, are you?"

Damon opens his hands and gives me a big smile. "You figured it out. You are more clever than I give you credit for."

Jamal Jefferson owns a large antique store here in Mystic Cove. I've met him a couple of times, but he usually leaves the shop in the hands of his assistant, Katrina Bliss, while he's off scouting new items for the shop. I don't own a lot of antiques, but I find that looking at them often gives me ideas for my designs for my clients, so I go browse whenever I need a hit of inspiration.

"Now that I say it, I see it," I say as Rachel brings me my next drink, a cosmopolitan. "You and Jamal could be, like, half-brothers or something. His skin is a bit lighter, and he looks younger, wears his hair differently. But I can see the similarities."

"Younger?" Damon asks, feigning offense. "Hmm. Would you rather be on a date with him?"

I laugh. "Don't worry. I'm quite enjoying my date with Damon."

I can't believe I just said those words. I'm about to apologize when Damon places his hand on mine.

"I'm quite enjoying my date with Tamzin, too."

My heart flutters and I recognize this feeling. I haven't felt it in a long time, but it's something you never forget. The thrill of knowing the person you have a crush on feels the same way. That first look, first touch, the anticipation of the first kiss.

But I can't feel those things for Damon. Despite the handsome, debonaire man I see in front of me, he's an evil monster, isn't he? He was sent here to torture me. I have to be wary. I have to protect myself and my daughter. I can't let this thing infiltrate my life. What if it's all an act? What if Bella never really captured him at all? What if this was his plan all along? To get close to me just so he can turn on me and ruin my life?

I pull my hand away and shake my hand. "So, have you ever been married to a human before? Do you have half-demon children running around? Oh, wouldn't that be…umm… What are they called in the Bible? Nephilim?"

Damon lets out an annoyed sigh and goes back to his food. "That's just a myth. Demons can't have children with humans. As for marriage, no, I've never been married. I've had plenty of paramours over the centuries, women I could say I've loved, but never anything that lasted more than a decade or two."

"That's still a long time in human years," I say somberly. "That's about how long I had with Mark, a decade. And it felt…like a lifetime." I can feel the tears welling up again at just the thought of him. But I don't want to cry. I don't want to ruin this night, the fun I was having.

"Hey," Damon says gently. "Don't do that to yourself."

I dab at my eyes with my napkin. "What…what happens to humans when we die?"

Damon shakes his head and taps his nose. "Now, that would be telling. Life needs at least a bit of mystery, don't you think?"

"Sorry," I say, clearing my throat. "You're right. We were having fun, right? Just a good, old-fashioned night out."

"That's right," Damon says, wiping his face with his napkin and putting it down. He stretches his arms over his head, and I can see every muscle in his chest and arms through his shirt. "So, what shall we get for dessert?"

I look down and realize that I ate way more than I had intended to. "Oh, I don't know. How can I possibly have room for dessert after I just ate all that?"

"I'm sure you can find room," he says, waving Rachel over. He orders a chocolate lava cake with ice cream and two glasses of dessert wine. When the wine glasses arrive, he raises his in a toast.

"To…us," he says.

I raise my glass and an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" I ask skeptically.

"Yes," he says. "Never before have a demon and a human gotten along so swimmingly."

"What about your paramours ?" I ask teasingly.

"They didn't know I was a demon," he says.

His words surprise me. Could it really be that he and I are sharing something he has never experienced with another human before? He might have had friends and lovers before, but none who knew who he really was? What he really was? What does that mean? I can't accept that Beverly might be right about this. That my blind date—my soulmate—is a demon. It doesn't make sense. I need to find out who hexed me and why so that he can be free to go on his little demon way and I can get back to my old life.

But do I want to go back to my old life? I have to admit, I was pretty miserable. Okay, a lot miserable. I don't need a demon to torture me. I do a pretty good job of that myself on a daily basis. Yeah, I know it's not rational. I didn't kill my husband. At least not with my own two hands. But he died because of me, and the guilt doesn't just go away because I want it to.

Do I want it to? I don't know. I've lived with it for so long, I don't know how I would feel without it. I don't remember what it felt like to be happy. To be free of this burden. At least, I didn't until tonight. I've hardly thought about Mark at all. I had…fun. I even felt something like…desire? I want Damon to touch me. To kiss me. I couldn't do it, of course. I'd feel too guilty. But still, I have felt…longing. But what does all this mean?

"Hello? Tamzin?" Damon says.

"Sorry," I say, coming back to myself. "Yes. To us, and this great night out."

"Hopefully, it won't be the last," he says.

Is he asking me out for a second date? I can't let that happen. I'm not ready for anything beyond friendship right now.

"I could certainly use a night out once in a while," I say, and I clink my glass to his. We both drink and then dig into the lava cake. Ugh, I'm going to have to work this off with Cora at the gym on Monday. But it's so good! When we finish, I lean back in my seat and rub my belly.

"You look happy," Damon says.

"I feel…good," I admit. "I think I needed this."

"We all need a break from life once in a while."

"I better get back and relieve Beverly," I say. I try to stand up, but wobble on my heels. Damon rushes to my side to help me.

"Hey, take it easy there," he says.

"I'm fine," I say, but my vision is a little blurry. Damon wraps his arm around my waist and I throw one of my arms over his shoulder—his strong, muscley shoulder.

"I'm sure you are."

"Night, Rach," I say as we walk past her.

"One more notch in Beverly's belt?" Rachel asks me.

"Don't give that witch so much credit," I say. "I'm gonna make her regret setting me up with a demon."