Demon by Kristina Douglas Page A

me, easily. For all that I thought sex was no pleasure for women, I would have stripped off my clothes and lain beneath him without a word of protest.
    But he hadn’t wanted me. Despite the stiff cock against my belly, despite the hunger of his mouth, he hadn’t wanted me. So much for being an irresistible siren.
    And then when he’d stripped me, I’d been asleep, but I could almost see his steady, efficient hands as they’d removed my clothes. His cool, assessing gaze as he looked at my naked body. And then covered it up, from my chin to my toes, in this enveloping nightgown.
    I was no threat to him. Hadn’t he already proven that? That he could kiss me and walk away,that he could strip me and cover me again with no more concern than a eunuch? But he wasn’t a eunuch.
    We should be done by now. Whether or not he still believed I was Lilith, he knew that he wasn’t affected by my so-called seductive powers. He looked at me and saw Rachel, ordinary except for the flame-red hair. He looked at me and turned away.
    I slid down off the high bed and went searching for my clothes. They weren’t there—just a pile of gray-brown jeans and T-shirts, the usual. I didn’t want to dress like the ghosts of the Dark City. I didn’t want to turn into them.
    But I couldn’t wander around in a Victorian nightgown, and nudity was no option. I reached for the clothes in the huge wardrobe, the underwear in my size, the jeans that fit perfectly. And saw, to my relief, that once they were on my body the color slowly leached into them. They soaked up color like a paper towel set next to paint—the jeans were sand-washed indigo, the T-shirt a deep rose that oddly enough didn’t clash with my hair. I pulled the neckline out to look down at the bra next to my body. Pale lavender, with delicate lace. O-kay.
    I headed for the door. It wasn’t as if I had any choice. I was starving, and staying holed up in thisroom got nothing accomplished. I left the room, and safety, behind.
    He was in the outer room waiting for me, as if he’d known I was about to emerge. I felt color rise to my face, the memory of that searing kiss between us. But then, he’d pushed me away from him, passing whatever test he’d given himself, and I should be able to meet his gaze with no embarrassment.
    I straightened my shoulders, waiting for him to say something. He looked at me out of hooded eyes, and I couldn’t read his reaction. And then he spoke.
    “Come.”
    I ground my teeth. “Where?”
    “You slept a long time. You must be hungry. I was planning to feed you.”
    “Are you taking me back to Beloch?” I tried to keep the hopefulness out of my voice. Pleasing me was the last thing on his agenda.
    He shook his head. “The time has not yet come. There’s food in the dining room.”
    “And where is that? Oh, I know. ‘Come,’” I mocked him. “Lead on. I’ll put up with you for the sake of food.”
    “You have little choice in the matter, demon.”
    “Don’t call me that!” I snapped.
    “What do you expect me to call you? A made-up name for a made-up human?”
    I didn’t bother arguing. “Yes. My name is Rachel.” I pushed past him, anything to keep him from that one sepulchral word that made me crazy.
    “Second door on the left.”
    I halted, not daring to hope. “You’re not coming with me?”
    “I expect you can manage to feed yourself without my help.”
    “And then do we go to Beloch?”
    He hesitated, and I had the strange thought that there was something ugly that he didn’t want to tell me. But then, he was my enemy. Almost everything he told me was ugly. “Nothing has been proven yet.”
    “Oh, come on! I think it’s more than clear you find me eminently resistible, as do most men. And for your information, I can do without them, and sex, quite happily. So you’ve got the wrong girl for your sex demon.”
    He made no flattering protest, of course. He simply turned away, and I watched him go, aware of a strange sense of