Demon Born

Chapter 1-2

This was crazy, wasn’t it? She sat across from the demon lord, watching as he demolished a plate of pork and beef and sweet corn dessert tamales. Obviously, he wasn’t too worried about maintaining the trim, muscular human form he’d assumed. Then again, she supposed if he could make himself look like anyone or anything he wanted, then it didn’t really matter how many calories he consumed.

And if he’s still himself under there, she thought, reaching for the glass of wine she’d poured for herself, then he probably needs a lot of food to even begin to maintain his weight.

He slowed down enough to take a sip from his own glass of Tempranillo. Estate-grown, too, from one of the bottles that had come to her with the sale of the house. “It’s all very good,” he said. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” she responded, although inwardly she knew she probably wouldn’t pass the Lord of Chaos’s compliments regarding the tamales on to her Aunt Rosa. The source of the praise would have been way too difficult to explain.

Another flicker of worry passed through her mind, the fear that she might have made herself vulnerable by allowing him into her house, openly inviting him here. No, that was silly; that sort of rule pertained to vampires, not demon lords of unknown origin. Besides, vampires weren’t real.

Cat sipped some more wine, then said, “So…what happened? Was Simon Escobar really the only warlock with the power to send you back to your own world?”

The demon paused, fingers tapping against the stem of the glass he held. “It would appear so. That is, I had to be discreet in my inquiries, because the last thing I wanted was to attract the attention of yet another person who was only interested in exploiting my powers, but I came across no one with that sort of skill. It seems that all you witches and warlocks have been very serious about ignoring any fields of inquiry that have been deemed remotely unsavory, and so there doesn’t appear to be anyone who can list demon-summoning on their resumes.”

His tone as he said this sounded almost amused, as if he’d already moved far past his disappointment and had done his best to come to terms with his current situation. Cat wondered if she should leave it alone, but she couldn’t help asking, “Not even in Central America? That’s where Simon’s father came from, right?”

Expression unreadable, he answered, “That was the first place I looked.”

After delivering that somewhat quelling comment, the Lord of Chaos returned to eating his tamales. Cat noticed that he’d left most of the sweet corn tamale alone as he ate the other two, although once those were gone, he devoured that one with relish as well. Saving it for dessert? Maybe. She supposed she should be glad that his table manners were pretty much impeccable, especially since she’d never thought of demons as the sort of beings who’d be handy with a knife and fork. Knives, maybe, although their talons had certainly seemed sharp enough on their own.

“I’m sorry,” she told him after a pause, since she really didn’t know what else to say. “But you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need to.”

That offer made him look up from his plate, dark eyes intent. Cat had to make herself sit still and return his gaze, which was harder than she’d thought it would be. He really was insanely good-looking.

Not really, she reminded herself. This is all just window dressing. Underneath….

Well, underneath he was an eight-foot-tall demon with red eyes, sharp teeth, and bat wings that could probably knock you into the next county if you weren’t careful. For some reason, though, that mental image didn’t bother her as much as it should have, probably because the last time she’d properly seen him in that guise, he’d been busy helping to save all their asses.

“You mean that?” he asked. He sounded genuinely surprised.

Cat wondered exactly what he’d been through these past eight months, what he’d seen, what seamy undersides of the witching world he’d explored in order to find the one person who could send him back to his natural plane of existence. Even for a being with his powers, it couldn’t have been easy, or fun. No wonder he appeared so startled by her offer of hospitality.

“Yes, I do,” she said. After all, the house was large, with four bedrooms and three and a half baths. It wasn’t as though they’d be tripping over each other if he hung out here for a little while. “If you’re done eating, I can show you where you’ll be staying — that is, if you want to, of course.”

He lifted his wine glass and drained the last of its contents before setting it down once again. “I am ready.”

There was enough left in Cat’s own glass that she knew she wouldn’t be able to finish it off in one swallow. Instead, she took a sip for courage, then got up from her chair. “All the bedrooms are upstairs. This way.”

She led him up to the second floor and then down the short hallway to the space she’d designated as a guest room. It wasn’t overly large, but it had a balcony that looked to the north and the magnificent cottonwood trees that marked the northern perimeter of the property, and a ceiling fan overhead that helped to move the warm air that had collected here during the daytime.

A few steps across the room, and she’d opened the French doors to let in some of the evening breeze. “Because this side of the house faces north, you shouldn’t have to worry too much about the sun waking you.”

As soon as she’d spoken, though, Cat wondered if she’d just made herself sound like an i***t. After all, she had no way of knowing whether demons — or demon lords — even had to sleep. The thought disquieted her. She didn’t want to think of the Lord of Chaos awake and roaming the house while she was asleep in her own bedroom down the hall. Her guest might have seemed friendly enough, but, after all, he wasn’t human.

He didn’t correct her one way or the other, only stood there for a moment in silence as he inspected the room. Did he think it was too plain? She’d been going for a Tuscan farmhouse style in her decorating, and the furnishings in here were simple, just a queen bed with a dark wood frame without any adornment, a writing desk placed up against one wall, and a ficus tree in a basket in one corner. Also, she’d hung a cross of pierced tin above the writing desk. At the time, she hadn’t thought much about it; being Catholic was all part of being a Castillo, the same as being a witch or warlock, but maybe a demon had different thoughts about overtly religious symbols.

Not that he was the sort of demon talked about in the Bible, as far as Cat had been able to tell. These demons were simply beings from a different plane of existence, given the name mostly because it served to describe them better than anything else humans had been able to come up with. As for what his world was even like, she really had no idea. It must have its attractions, though, or he wouldn’t have been trying so hard to get back there.

Then he spoke. “That sounds very comfortable.”

Which didn’t tell her a damn thing. She knew she didn’t have to worry about him shriveling up in sunlight or anything like that, because it had been broad daylight when he’d appeared at the house in La Cienega and had driven off the lesser demons Simon Escobar had summoned. But the demon lord still hadn’t dropped a single clue as to whether he really did need to sleep or not.

And that also meant the next part of her instructions might be pointless as well. However, since she’d already embarked on this endeavor, Cat figured she had better plow ahead.

Taking a breath, she said, “The bathroom’s the first door on the right. There are towels and soap and shampoo, and in the top drawer of the vanity, you’ll find an unused toothbrush and some toothpaste. I don’t really have any spare clothes, but — ”

“Catalina.”

His tone was quiet, but it was enough to stop the flow of words. She paused and made herself look at him again. Now he was smiling, and she didn’t quite know what to make of that.

“You’re being very generous with your hospitality,” he said. “There is no need for you to worry about clothing, or any other items I might require. I will simply conjure them as the need arises.”

“Of course,” she replied, feeling her cheeks heat somewhat. Good thing the light built into the ceiling fan wasn’t very bright. Or maybe his demon senses were so acute that he would have been able to see her blush even if they’d been standing in pitch darkness. “I suppose I should have thought of that.”

“Well, this is probably the first time you’ve had a demon lord stay overnight,” he said, again with that amused note in his voice.

“The first time I’ve had anyone stay over,” she admitted. “Well, my cousin Ignatio passed out on the couch the night of my housewarming party, but since he got up sometime before dawn and drove himself home, I guess that doesn’t really count.”

As if a demon lord cares about whether your cousin had too many shots of tequila….

But again he smiled at her. “Then I feel honored to be your first guest. Again, thank you for your hospitality.”

For all their friendliness, his words had a note of dismissal to them, and Cat decided it was better to take his lead and call it a night. The day was beginning to feel very long to her, and she knew she needed to go to bed.

Whether she’d actually be able to sleep was an entirely different matter.

“Then good night, um — ” She stopped there, realizing she had no idea what to call him. “Lord of Chaos” wasn’t exactly the easiest phrase to slip into everyday conversation.

“Loc,” he said. It rhymed with “woke.”

“‘Loc’?” Cat repeated, hoping she’d heard him correctly. It was an unusual name, but then she supposed a demon lord probably wouldn’t go around calling himself “Tim” or something else equally innocuous.

“For ‘Lord of Chaos,’” he supplied. “A small joke, I suppose.”

“Oh, right.” It did suit him, in an odd way, suited the dark handsomeness of his borrowed features. The nickname also made him sound like a musician or model or something, but Cat supposed that might work to his advantage as well. “Loc it is. If you need anything, I’ll be right down the hall.”

“I’m sure I will be fine, but thank you,” he said, gravely polite.

That seemed to be her cue to leave the room. She managed to send him what she hoped was an encouraging smile, then turned and headed down the hall to the master suite. The door to his room shut quietly behind her, and although she knew she should be glad that he was respecting her privacy — and his — she couldn’t help wondering what he might be doing behind that closed door.

Getting ready for bed, just like you should be, Cat scolded herself as she went into the master bedroom and then made sure her own door was firmly shut. It didn’t have a lock — she hadn’t thought there would be any reason for one — and right now she found herself wishing for some way to latch the door, even as she realized a lock wouldn’t keep out an ordinary witch or warlock, much less a demon lord like Loc.

He’s not going to come in here, she told herself. Just because he looks human doesn’t mean he is human. He doesn’t have human needs or wants.

That realization reassured her somewhat. It had been an impulsive move to invite him to stay here, and she definitely didn’t need to allow that kind of nonsense to take up space in her mind. She’d do what she could to help him, because she and the whole Castillo clan owed him one, but that would be the extent of their connection.

All the same, she couldn’t quite keep herself from brooding over what she’d done as she lay down once her usual nightly routines were completed. The house was quiet, with no sound at all coming from the room down the hall.

She shut her eyes and thought, Rafe is going to kill me when he finds out about all this….