I had saved her.
Surely, she wouldn’t attack me now in my own home.
Surely.
She flexed her fingers before rubbing her legs lightly, hissing when her hands passed over the wounds.
“Maybe you need to reconsider what you’re doing,” I said.
She glared at me before the glare melted into a smile.
“Demons…” she started, and paused before continuing, “… are supposed to do whatever the fuck they want. No pissy little attack is going to stop me from doing just that.”
“That pissy little attack would’ve knocked you out for good if I hadn’t have patched you up.”
“And yet…” she held her arms open, a muscle in her jaw twitching as a shot of pain moved through her with the motion, “… you did, and here I am.”
I glanced at the floor, unable to hold her gaze any longer. Ray had done nothing but eat up my thoughts since the moment I first saw her. First, as a demon existing in this world, then as an enemy to be stopped before becoming someone who filled me with conflicting thoughts and feelings that tortured me into the night.
“Why do you do it, Ray? All these things?”
The question felt different here, in my home, than when I had asked her at the scenes of her crimes. I still couldn’t quite look at her. Every time I did, it flared a need inside me I wasn’t comfortable with. Not only because of the things she had done but what she was. Somehow, I had accepted she was still a living, breathing being—a being with emotions, thoughts, and a personality which both filled me with rage and made me smirk when I thought of her when I was alone. But I couldn’t accept my lust for her. I much preferred it when I felt only anger and my desire was simply to stop her.
Ray slid her legs off the table’s edge, so they were dangling in front of me. She had taken her pants off so I could deal with her wounds, the clothing too tight to roll up the leather. I tried not to look at where the black lace of her panties met her skin. I was fighting a losing battle.
“I am what I am, Ilsa. I need the chaos, the destruction to fight and fuck, and all that good stuff that drives me on an instinctual level. If I don’t, I’ll lose control of my demon.”
My brow furrowed. She talked about the demon as though it were a separate part of her, or maybe it was simply separate from the human form she took on here on Earth.
“I follow the rules of being on Earth,” she continued. “I don’t kill… no innocents get hurt.”
When I huffed, she paused. We were both remembering the man in the bakery.
She was a whirlwind, this woman, revealing layers upon layers of complication and conflicts I didn’t imagine when I first suspected her true nature. I wanted to know why she was here, what she was hoping to achieve, and if she had any dreams—things I’d wonder about other people, other humans. But she wasn’t other people, she wasn’t even of this Earth, this plane of existence. She had lived a life of inflicting pain and torture, but obviously, there was some cosmic cycle here beyond my understanding.
When I finally raised my eyes to hers, the look she gave me, like she was going to eat me alive, pulled a whimper from me. Her gaze shot to my lips and back up to my eyes, and she smiled a dangerous smile. I had so many questions for her. In the beginning, I had only wanted to stop her, but now, now I wanted to know everything. What was it really like for her in her home, and why she wanted to be here instead? My feelings toward her were still mostly hostile—mostly—and I hadn’t fully relaxed since she came into my home, despite her weakened state. I didn’t trust her, what she was or what she was capable of, and I still wanted her to stop this ridiculous mission she had set for herself.
Before someone innocent got hurt.
Before she got herself killed.
Because for whatever reason, Ray felt she was doing the right thing, and I guess in some fucked- up way, she was. But I stand by my loyalties, and these actions were not hers to make. Being a vigilante wasn’t the answer to the issues that plagued our society and world.
“Ray…” I started.
She moved fast.
My hands hovered by my sides, too shocked to respond as she leaped from the counter and straddled me, assaulting my mouth with hers and forcing my lips to open with her tongue and teeth. Her hands pushed desperately through my hair, combing it back with her fingers as she dominated my mouth. Ray’s hands moved swiftly along my body, and my head was spinning as she fondled my breasts with expert fingers, flicking at my nipples through the fabric. I wished I had put on a bra, or at least something other than my flimsy nightshirt before I opened the door.
But then again, as she pinched my nipples between her fingers and thumbs, giggling against my lips as I groaned, I’m glad I didn’t because it would simply have been a barrier to the sensations vibrating through me.
When she pulled away, I kept my eyes closed, reveling in her taste.
Whiskey and cigarettes and lipstick.
All things sinful.
“You little tease.” She laughed. “I knew you never really hated me.”
And with that, she lifted herself from my lap and strode toward the front door, snatching up her pants from the couch along the way. When she turned back to face me, her eyes were blazing gold against the fire of her hair. As I stared at her, my jaw dropped, and I was barely able to process what the fuck just happened.
“Um…” she actually had the audacity to look uncomfortable for a moment, “… thanks for fixing me up.” Then the grin was back. “You taste good, gorgeous. We should do this again sometime without the bullets.”
As the door closed behind her and the shock wore off, the rage began to build again in my gut.