Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
I trailed off, eyes narrowing. “You.”
There was no question about it. Lying in my bed, bold as he pleased, was the psycho jerk who stole my patch and almost got me killed. Was it some kind of cruel coincidence that he came in here to steal by bed too, or was this guy just singularly focused on making my life difficult in the one day since we met.
“No. No!” I blared. Grabbing his shoulders, I shook him like a martini. “Get up, you asshole! You’ve got some kind of nerve walking in here and hopping in my bed after almost getting me pecked to death! Get up! Get—”
A hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. The room spun in a riot of purple and gold as I flew over the mattress and settled on the satin cloud, with one sleeping psycho jerk on top of me. Landing in a pile on the floor, was my towel.
My jaw worked—horror stealing my breath, my words, and my very soul as a perfect stranger snuggled between my breasts, and drifted back asleep.
I flipped out. Kicking, thrashing, and pounding on every part of him I could reach, I broke rule one for the thousandth time—screeching for him to wake up and get out.
Nothing roused him from his sleep as he snored away, holding his very real and very naked new body pillow closer.
Chapter Five
“Wake up. Wake up, girl!”
I bolted upright, throwing off the covers.
Sabrina hovered at the bottom of the bed, staring me down with her slitted eye of judgement. “Now that you’ve finally finished mating, can we get on with what we’re here to do?”
My brain was too busy struggling to catch up to call her on that mating comment. Sweeping around, I saw that psycho jerk was nowhere to be found, but the chair blocking the door was removed. Seemed after sleeping like the dead on my chest, he popped up and went out without so much as a word.
My face heated remembering last night. All the guy did was sleep, but humiliation lived in my skin at having a man—no, demon!—that I didn’t know, using me as his pillow. And of all the demons, it had to be the one who stole my patch and almost got me killed.
I tried for what seemed like hours to wake him up, shake him off, or wiggle out from under him, but his sleep was too deep, and his grip even tighter.
I scrambled off the bed and grabbed the towel still lying there on the floor where I lost it. “What is wrong with that guy?” I cried—my voice hitting new, undiscovered octaves. “Are all demons like this!”
“Yes.”
I huffed, fuming. Stomping over to my luggage, I picked a case at random, threw it open, discovered it was nothing but books, then shoved it aside and grabbed another one. “Because of him, I wasted hours that I could’ve used searching for Dora.” I whipped around, looking for a clock. The dorm was windowless, so I had no idea what it looked like outside, or what nightfall and day rise looked like in a world with no sun or moon. “What time is it?”
“Time is a human obsession. Not a snake’s.”
“Fair enough.” I popped open the second case and found bound books with blank pages, and writing utensils. “Hell has pencils,” I muttered to myself. “Wouldn’t have expected that.”
“Why not?” Sabrina slithered over to me. “I told you demons are humans fated to punishment in the afterlife. They are reborn in this realm without memory of the human life that cursed them to be here, but they still have the same capacity for reasoning and creativity. If they were an inventor in their previous life, there’s no reason they cannot be one in their next.”
“Huh. That makes sense. It’s even pretty interesting,” I admitted. “If I was here under different circumstances, I’d be so fascinated by all of this. We humans wrestle with the concept of an afterlife every day. Is it real? Do we believe in it? How far will we go to defend our version of it? I’m answering so many seemingly unanswerable questions right now. It’s fascinating,” I repeated.
“You are only facsssinated, human, because you’ve secured your passage out of this realm,” she hissed. “But if you were here under different circumstances, delightful curiosity is the last thing you’d feel.”
I pressed my lips together, feeling the reprimand keenly. This wasn’t a fun holiday or a theological expedition. I was in the worst place any human—dead or alive—could be. If Sabrina was here to do anything, it was to make sure I didn’t forget that.
I helped myself to a notebook and pencil, and lucked out on the third case I opened. Inside were the accessories. A small leather backpack, belts, socks, and a row of watches. Picking them up, I was relieved to see the normal clockface and hands that I was used to. Said hands ticked down to seven o’clock.