Caspian cleared his throat loudly and rapped on the door.
A strange man’s head appeared in her window. The man wore a dark hood that covered the top half of his face. She glanced warily at Caspian, the irony not lost on her that she was looking to a demon to save her.
The cloaked man wordlessly shoved a basket of food at her and a waterskin that sloshed as he handed it over. It was impossible to tell if the visitor was human, or if he had the same unsettling silver eyes as Caspian.
"Excuse me?" she asked delicately, waiting for the man to introduce himself.
He glanced at her, and she caught a glimpse of his eyes. Pure darkness filled them from edge to edge—with no whites, as if his pupils had devoured his eyes entirely.
These were demon eyes. Fathomless pools of black that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it, like twin portals to the Seven Hells.
“Hey, honey, how you doing?” His voice was charismatic and easygoing, entirely at odds with his frightening appearance, but it did little to allay her fear.
Words escaped her, and her eyes widened in horror. Even Caspian’s eyes were not so monstrous.
“Asmodeus, nice to meet ’cha.” The manextended a hand.
His eyes. She couldn’t get over his eyes. The hood of his cloak slipped, revealing thumb-sized dark horns sticking out of his forehead.
Demon.
Every fiber of her being screamed, telling her to run.
She refused his hand, not caring that she was being rude.
The demon’s features sagged, crestfallen. The demon turned to leave, and she noticed that his back looked strangely hunched and misshapen. The demon’s footsteps receded, presumably to return to the front of the carriage.
Was he a hunchback? How unfortunate. He wasn’t unattractive from what she had seen of his face. Except for his horns and his eyes. Those she could have definitely done without.
“My second-in-command, Asmodeus.”
She held a hand over her chest, trying to overcome her fright. “A friend of yours?”
“Unfortunately,” he said. “Eat, it’s not poisoned.”
She opened the basket and found some cheese and dates inside. “Do you want any?” she asked with a smile, thinking the two of them might share.
“I cannot eat mortal food.”
“Really?” She tilted her head to the side. “What happens when you do?”
Caspian paused, and when he spoke, his words were dark, “Demons are not beings of this earth. We must drink blood to survive in this realm, or else we will start to fade. Mortal food tastes like nothing and turns to ash in our mouths.”
***
Over the course of their journey back to Briarton, Caspian proved to be both generous and occasionally considerate, which did a little to soothe the uncomfortable feeling in her gut that she had made a terrible mistake.
Caspian was not kind or pleasant to be around. He often appeared surly, spending most of his time in brooding silence. However, he made sure they stopped several times a day for her to eat and relieve herself at roadside inns, and ensured that she was given the option of sleeping in a bed at an inn, or stopping to bathe if she wanted. She often didn’t, choosing to sleep in the carriage in an effort to reach Briarton before her parents did.
Before she knew it, the Ashcroft manor came into view, with its white marble pillars and gardens of pink and white flowers. She watched a small green hummingbird zip happily past her window, the sight wrenching her heart.
She would miss this place.
Caspian turned to her. “We have travelled quickly to arrive before your parents. You wanted to get some of your things, yes?”
“Yes,” she said, eyeing her parents' manor sheepishly.
Caspian helped her out of the carriage, and she strode to the front doors, trying to appear confident in what she was doing.
