What A Demon Wants. Kathy Love

what kind of job is it? I mean, give me a vague idea. You know, without going into specifics. After all, I wouldn’t want to overstep the client’s privacy.”

      Like a dog with a bone. He shook his head, his emotions somewhere between annoyance and amusement.

      “Somehow I don’t think you’re that concerned with my client’s privacy,” he said.

      Ellina widened her eyes as if she was offended, then she shrugged. “You’re right. I’m not.”

      A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the sensation almost foreign to him.

      Her pale eyes locked on his mouth, homing in on that slight smile.

      Then she stepped back from him, as if she suddenly needed to put more space between them. And again her line of conversation switched abruptly, which seemed to be commonplace for her.

      “You probably should go with the other job. Really. I have friends I can call should anything happen. And I know how to dial 911.”

      He didn’t answer, and she didn’t wait for him to do so.

      “I’ve got to go write.” With that, she left the room.

      Jude had to give it to her—Ellina’s departures were as abrupt as her questions and subject changes.

      She was right. He should just go, but he couldn’t, even though he knew this job was dangerous. And probably not worth any amount of money.

      Breathe. Breathe.

      This was so bad. Bad, bad, bad.

      She hurried into her office. Ignoring her promise to Jude, Ellina shut her French doors, then leaned against them.

      Damn it. She was finding her reluctant bodyguard attractive. Extremely attractive. Like heart-racing, skin-tingling, parts of her body growing moist attractive.

      Which would be fine, if her physical reaction stopped with the heart-racing, skin-tingling parts of her body growing moist part. But her reaction didn’t.

      She carefully lifted her shirt, peering down at her bared stomach. Then she jammed the shirt back down and groaned loudly, letting her head fall back against the door. She waited a moment, eyes squeezed shut, then lifted her shirt again.

      Red scales replaced the pale skin that usually covered her stomach.

      She groaned again.

      Men got erections. Some women’s nipples hardened. When she became aroused, she got scales, horns, and glowing eyes.

      She made a frustrated growl low in her throat and walked over to the window that looked out at her small, enclosed courtyard. She rested her forehead on the cool glass, breathing slowly, willing away her reaction to him. When that didn’t work, she opened the French doors that led outside, letting the winter air waft over her, breathing it deep into her lungs, willing the chill to drive away the heat in her body.

      Gradually the low burn faded, taking the scales away with it.

      She studied her garden. Her hanging flowers had gone by, the coolness of the winter months withering the colorful blossoms to shriveled brown. But much of the foliage clung to the hints of sunlight, remaining green.

      She knew it was not strange or abnormal to find a man attractive. In fact it was very normal. But given what she was, and how her demon side had chosen to manifest itself, crushes, love, and sex had never been a realistic option for her.

      Just like the green vines and bushes in her garden clinging to the sunlight, even in winter, Ellina’d once longed for a real relationship. She’d had a seed of hope. But now she thought she’d honestly given up on that idea, especially since she’d never found preternatural creatures attractive. And they were the only ones she could expect to understand and accept her little oddity.

      Oh, she could easily see that demons and vampires, even werewolves, were stunning creatures, but it was exactly their physical perfection that turned her off. It wasn’t real. It was an illusion, a creation of their supernatural nature.

      She much preferred human men. Human men with imperfections. Real smiles with the occasional crooked tooth. Glasses. A few gray hairs. Realistically handsome.

      She wasn’t perfect—being half demon/half human wasn’t even close to perfect, so she didn’t feel like she could ever be comfortable with perfection. She wanted normal, average.

      But therein lied the trick; she wasn’t normal. At all. And she couldn’t have a human man. It would take a pretty extraordinary guy to understand what she was.

      Sure, her brother had found a human partner, but he didn’t have Ellina’s little—issue. Okay, big, big issue.

      So she’d accepted that a relationship wasn’t going to happen for her. Most men quickly lost interest when they learned sex was off the table. And who could blame them?

      She lifted her shirt, and her pale smooth skin had returned. She let out a breath, then closed the doors, blocking out the cold air, turning her back on the bits of garden that clung to the hope of warmth and summer sun.

      So why this guy? A man she didn’t even want in her house. And she was using the term “man” very loosely, because she didn’t even know what he was. But he wasn’t human.

      Maybe her reaction was due to cutting herself off from everyone. For several years now, she’d kept herself closed off, in the safety of her home, because here she could control her demon side.

      Maybe she would be attracted to any man…male…whatever.

      But Jude? Really? First of all, he wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. He clearly didn’t have a great affinity to her. And he was really too uptight.

      But it was that smile of his. It had just briefly and very unnervingly hinted at a more human side to the huge, rigid, humorless bodyguard.

      Human side. Hmm, that was probably exactly what appealed to her. Aroused her.

      All she had to do was remember he wasn’t human. He wasn’t normal. And she did not need any more unusual in her life.

      Feeling calmer, she moved around her desk to her computer. With a self-control she had managed to groom over the years, she returned to her book. What was the word for how she had dealt all these years? Sublimation.

      She was a pro at sublimating—and she’d deal with this strange little reaction the same way. Redirect her desire into her writing.

      So he was attractive. So what?

      Jude finished his evaluation of the house, avoiding Ellina’s office. He wasn’t ready for another run-in with his interesting client. Then he headed back to her lavender and gold living room. Easing down on one of the chairs, he let his tense muscles relax as much as he could.

      He wasn’t going to be able to do this. If he was smart, and he liked to believe he was, he’d try to find someone else for this job.

      But still Jude didn’t rise to leave.

      Really, how could he? He didn’t know anyone to contact, and he wasn’t the type to trust someone else to do the job right. And what if something happened…

      He was stuck.

      He leaned back in the chair, resting his hands on either arm. The brocade material was oddly rough and satiny all at once under his fingers, the cushions firm, but comfortable. A weird paradox like the house itself. Like its owner.

      He sat still, silent. Just listening. Just taking in the feel of the house.

      He could hear Ellina moving. The faint creak as she shifted her chair. The tap of her fingers over her keyboard. Noises that reached him across a distance as if he were drifting off to sleep and they might be real or they might be a dream.

      He wondered how he could still recall that somnolent state, that place between reality and slumber, considering he hadn’t slept in hundreds of years. Funny the memories that never