Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

W hen my phone updates, I see that we had arrived at the restaurant only a bit before midnight. So, by the time we finish our entrees, we are almost the only people left in the restaurant.

"Should we go?" I ask. "I don't want to make the staff stay late just for us."

"People in Europe stay out later than most Americans," Damon says, stretching. I look around and see that he is probably right about that. The musician is still playing, there are still people walking around, and the gondoliers are still singing.

"This is such a magical place," I say, the wine making my head swim a bit. "I always wanted to visit Italy, but I never imagined just how different it would be. It's not like being on Earth at all. It's like stepping into a fantasy novel."

"I'm glad you are enjoying yourself," he says. "How about dessert?" He snaps his fingers and a waiter rushes over with a dessert menu. I pull my phone out and open Google translate so I can order for myself. Everything looks so decadent. Hazelnut panna cotta with chocolate ganache. Ricotta and cinnamon trifle with salted amaretto. Torta di riso with cherries. Hazelnut meringue cake with lime curd, peach, and mango. Honey and thyme panna cotta with campari and rhubarb granita. I almost settle on a tiramisu, something familiar, but then I decide I should get something I can't get at Jumpin' Beans.

"How about the semifreddo with gianduja?" I must butcher the pronunciation as Damon and the waiter both laugh and then Damon clarifies what I was trying to say. I close the menu to hand it to the waiter when I catch the name of the restaurant on the front. Il Piatto del Demone. The Demon's Plate.

My stomach sinks. I look around and notice the diabolical décor. Everything is black and white with deep, blood-red accents. There are wicked-looking little gargoyles on the columns. The plates have what looks like ancient scribble around the edges. I'm on a date with a demon. A real demon. This isn't a joke. No one knows where I am. Damon might not be able to possess and torture me, but I have put myself in a very dangerous position. I could vanish tonight and no one would ever know what happened to me. My daughter could wake up an orphan. I actually throw up in my mouth a little at the thought.

"Tamzin?" Damon asks. "What's wrong?" My terror must be showing on my face.

"I…uh…" I let out an awkward chuckle as the waiter returns with our dessert, which looks amazing. A slice of a light and fluffy mouse topped with hazelnut ganache and chopped hazelnuts. I pick up my fork, but I'm just too nauseous to dig in.

"Did I do something wrong?" Damon asks.

"No," I say quickly. "It's just… I'm on a date with a demon."

Damon nods. "You knew that before now, right?"

"I think it only just now hit me," I say, putting my fork down. "You've told me some of the reasons you enjoy being a demon, and you claim that you don't really enjoy torturing people, and I want to believe you. But I guess I just want to know more about what it means to be a demon. Do people worship you?"

"Some demons have worshippers," he says. "I was never really well known enough for that myself. Some people do pray to me, but only because they are trying to go through me to get to the Dark Lord."

"What do you mean?"

"Think of me like a saint," he says. "I'm an intercessor for people to reach the big guy."

"And will you torture people if the big guy asks?"

"It is my job," he says. "But it doesn't happen very often. You are the first person I was ordered to torture in a century."

"But it could happen at any moment, right? Like, we could be having a romantic dinner like this, and you would suddenly need to leave?"

"Well, I could get you home, at least. I'd have a bit of time to get my affairs in order before leaving. But, yes, not a lot of time."

"And how long could you be gone? Days? Months?" I hesitate before asking, "Years?"

He runs his hand over his jaw. "I suppose that is possible. Some people…some people are possessed for years."

I sit back in my chair and let out an exhale. I can't be with someone who might turn around and abandon me for years on end. I take another swig of wine. How stupid can I be? This can't be happening. I can't possibly be considering this. I can't really be getting into a relationship with a demon.

"Hey, Tamzin," Damon says, reaching across the table to me. I cross my arms so he can't touch me. "Look, you are getting upset over something that really probably won't happen. There are a lot of demons out there. Millions of them. And very few humans have the power to summon us. And I could probably, like, switch with someone. Like, have them do the possession for me and I'll do one for them later or something."

I have to chuckle at that. Like swapping favors at work. It's just so…mundane, I have to laugh at it.

"This is just so crazy," I say, sitting forward again. "I can't believe I'm really considering this. Doing this. Dating a demon. It's wild."

"Come on, eat your semifreddo before it melts," he says. He picks up his fork and cuts into the semifreddo. He offers me the bite. It's so delicious as it melts in my mouth.

"Wow… Just…wow," I say. "Give your chef a raise."

"Okay," he says, and we laugh.

"So, how are you feeling about all this?" I ask him after a few more bites. "I mean, do you really want to spend the next half a century with me? I'm just a boring old human with a lot of baggage. What's the attraction?"

He puts his fork down and rubs his hands together. "Hmm. Well, you are very attractive."

"That's because I don't eat much," I say, taking another big mouthful of semifreddo. "At least, I didn't. Depression is great for keeping the weight off. If you make me happy, you might also make me fat."

He laughs. "Hey, nothing wrong with a bit of curves. This idea that skinny women are ideal is a very modern concept."

"What else do you like about me?"

"You are thoughtful, inquisitive. A good friend. Very selfless. I'm just drawn to you. I like being with you. It can't all be put into words, I think. I didn't think I'd find happiness with a suburban life either, but what can I say?"

"Is it a phase?" I ask. "Some midlife crisis? Will you get bored with me?"

"Human men get bored, too," Damon says. "Isn't that why so many of them have affairs?"

"That sounds like deflection," I say, a little annoyed.

"Maybe," he says. "Sure, I might get bored someday. But I can assure you that my attention span is much longer than your average guy's."

"But you aren't an average guy," I say. "You are a demon. There isn't anyone out there I'll be able to go to for help or advice when we have problems. This is totally uncharted territory."

"You are right," he says, putting his hand on mine again. "Look, I don't have all the answers. And I don't want to make promises I can't keep. But you will just have to trust me. Not now, not right away. As you said, that is what dating is for. Just give me a chance, that's all I'm asking. We will figure it out together, okay?"

The look on his face is so sincere, I can't help but agree. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm desperate. I don't know. Or maybe the feelings I have that are growing are genuine and it would be stupid to not at least give him a chance. I don't know. But I do think that if I don't give him a chance, I will regret it. I'll spend the rest of my life wondering what if…

"Okay," I say with far more confidence than I feel.

"Good, because the date isn't over yet. Finish your wine and dessert and let's get out of here."

"Oh, I couldn't eat another bite," I say, pushing the dessert away. I do polish off the wine, though.

Damon says something to the waiter and ma?tre d as we leave, sharing a laugh and pat on the back with each of them. We don't pay, but if he owns it, I guess he wouldn't. I hope he gives them each a nice surprise in their next paycheck.

We start to walk past the man playing the concertina when Damon stops, tugs on my arm, and pulls me close. He stares into my eyes as we sway to the music. Everything is so perfect—Damon, the music, even the weather. I couldn't have imagined a more perfect date.

I let out a sigh and half close my eyes, a little drowsy from the wine and the late hour. I take my hand from his and wrap my arms around his neck, wanting to be that much closer to him. I can feel the heat of his hands through the thin fabric of my dress on my lower back. How I long to feel those hands elsewhere…

He licks his lips and leans toward me. I close my eyes and let it happen. My first kiss in more than six years. His lips are full and pillowy against my own. Warm and inviting. He tastes like hazelnut chocolate from our shared dessert and smells like coconut oil. One of his hands moves up my back and the other to my jaw, holding me tight, not letting the kiss end as he sucks my lower lip and explores my mouth with his tongue.

The kiss finally breaks as we each suck in a breath. I turn my face to the side and he nibbles the side of my jaw.

"Tamzin," he whispers, and I can only let out a shaky moan in response. "I want more. I want you."

I find the strength to shake my head and come to my senses. "Not so… I want to take things slow, remember?"

"I think you are the one who is torturing me," he says, and we laugh. The man playing the concertina laughs too. Damon turns to him, and the man says something in Italian.

"What did he say?" I ask.

"He says that you are a tease."

I act insulted and shake my finger at the old man as we all laugh together.

"Give him a tip," I tell Damon. Damon opens his wallet and pulls out some euros. I wonder if he just always carries euros with him or if they just magically appeared there. I then remember that he has a shop in Milan, so he probably always carries euros with him.

"Come on," Damon says, tugging me to follow him. "There is something else we have to do."

We walk along the canal until we find a little staircase leading down to the water. We don't have to wait long before I see a gondola gliding toward us.

"Oh, Damon," I say as he helps me into the boat. We sit behind a little table that is set with wine glasses, wine, and candles. The gondolier serenades us as we take in the stars, the architecture, and each other. It is a magical evening that I never want to end.