My nose wrinkles as I pop some meds into my mouth. My cramps have been wreaking havoc on my body the entire day and my back aches. I want to shower, but the thought of going through the work of getting in, not to mention everything afterward, has me hesitating. It's too much, especially with Omen on the other side of the door.
Slowly, I turn the knob and peek into my bedroom. Omen doesn't rush me, and I inch the wood open more. Nothing. No shuffling, no curses, no Omen. He vanished as quickly as he appeared, apparently. I suppose I could take a shower now thathe's gone. Still doesn't help with the actual act of showering, though. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing away the pain in my head.
I'm exhausted, my muscles ache, and all I want to do is sleep. I was trying to when Omen showed up. Not summoning him over the last month has taken its toll on me. I didn't think it would be so hard since we're not really friends. That argument doesn't hold weight anymore. I've spent more time with him than anyone else in a long time.
When he showed up and put together the desk, something changed. Or maybe it was when he saved me from the washing machine. I'm studiously ignoring the last time he was here. If I pretend he didn't catch me touching myself, then it didn't happen. Until I got my period, I refused to have any alone time. It's the fucking worst. Especially since I've been dreaming of Omen every damn night.
Another round of cramps batters me, and I sway as a wave of lightheadedness hits me. I collapse on my bed and curl into a ball again. It feels like my organs are strangling each other. Who knows which one will win out.
I should be pissed Omen walked out without so much as ahope you feel better. He merely enters a long line of squeamish men who are skeeved out by a little blood. He may be a demon, but he's as predictable as the humans around me.
My vision darkens, though I'm not sure how that's possible with only the moon lighting my room. Shadows softly cocoon me like a warm hug. A sigh leaves me and the sharp pain in my back eases. It's still there, but it doesn't feel like I'm being stabbed with a dull pencil anymore. Relief floods me as my muscles relax.
The mattress bounces and I grumble under my breath. Omen's cat has been randomly showing up. He yowls at me to feed him or to pet him or to open the window. I've also had tobuy about seventeen different types of food. It's annoying, but then he looks at me with that little squished face and I cave.
“Go away, Pretty Boy,” I groan.
“That my new nickname, little witch?” Omen whispers, his breath ghosting along the shell of my ear.
“What do you want?” I snap, then immediately regret my tone. It's not Omen's fault I'm in pain. It's not even his fault he left when he did.
“I got you some things.” He brushes hair away from my face, and I peek at him. “Do you want to see now or later?”
“What's wrong with your face?” His horns wink in and out of existence. His silver hair flashes dark, then brown, then back to silver. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was glitching out.
Omen shakes his head and he's engulfed in a dense mist. I can barely make out his silhouette, though I'm pretty sure his wings burst from his back, then disappear again. When the room clears, he's back to normal. At least, normal for him. His eyes flash red, dark pinpricks gazing back at me.
“Better?”
“What the fuck was that?”
He shrugs, then paws through the plastic bags spread at my feet. “I popped down to Hell, then topside, then back here. I had to shield the humans from my true form.”
“Is that what you did with Brandon?”
He scowls, gritting his teeth. “Don't say that asshole's name.” He grips my chin and his thumb brushes over my lower lip. “I don't ever want to hear his name fall from your lips again, do you hear me?”
I nod, then swallow hard. His eyes darken to full black, and I'm caught in his gaze. I couldn't look away even if I wanted to. Which I definitely do not. This is a fantasy straight from my dreams playing out. Maybe Iamdreaming. I'm fast asleep, tucked under my covers while my brain protects me fromthe cramps ravaging my body. That would explain the desire dripping in his eyes. It would account for the parting of his mouth and the rapid pulse fluttering at his throat.
“I need your words, little witch,” he breathes. “Do you understand what I expect from you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs.
Thankfully, he pulls away to dig through the plastic bags so he doesn't see my full-body shudder. Who the fuck talks like that? I don't usually get worked up while on my period, but clearly my body didn't get the message. I could blame it on the fact he's a demon, or maybe it's just him. Convincing myself not to lust after Omen hasn't worked one bit.
I sit up and my stomach cramps. I can't tell whether it's from hunger or my period. Doesn't matter since the thought of eating makes me nauseous. Or maybe that's the migraine forming in the back of my head.His little display distracted me from my cramps, but not for long.
“So, I have chocolate, alcohol, water, drugs, potatoes, and whatever these are.” He holds up a box of tampons and I press my lips together.
I crawl to the edge of the bed and peek over the side. There's at least thirty boxes of tampons, pads, and menstrual cups scattered across my floor. Another bag has three bags of chips and three types of raw potatoes. I swear there's some frozen fries tucked underneath it all.
“Um, where did you get all this?”
“The food place. Dimitri called it a…” He grins, snapping his fingers and flames flicker up his arm. “Grocery store.”
“Dimitri is your friend? Your demon friend I made fries for?”
