Truth or Demon

“You’re right,” she said. And for the rest of their shower she tried not to want him. A near impossible feat, but one she somehow managed.

Killian released her and stepped out of the shower.

“I’m going to go get some clean clothes, but I’ll be back down here in five.”

She nodded, remaining under the warm spray, too relaxed to move.

“Stay right here and I’ll be back.”

“Okay.” She didn’t have to be asked twice.

Killian toweled off and threw on yesterday’s clothes. Then he snagged Poppy’s keys. He wasn’t leaving her in an unlocked apartment, even for a few minutes.

Then he hurried back to his place—oddly he was actually beginning to think of the fusty apartment that way.

“Vepar!” he yelled as soon as he entered. He yelled again, looking for the cat in the living room, then the bedroom. No sign of it. Or Vepar.

“Damn you.” What was that psychotic demon’s game? He didn’t know. He just knew Vepar seemed intent on something.

Just kill her.

Vepar’s words echoed in his head again.

That couldn’t be his real goal, could it?

CHAPTER 34

As they stepped into the loud, crowded bar, Killian again asked himself why he had turned down Poppy’s sweet shower offer. He could have made love to her, and then let them both fall into a deep, sated sleep. And avoided this outing altogether.

That way she’d be safe. And he wouldn’t have to meet the man she’d wasted so many years mourning.

But here they were.

Maybe he could seduce her and get her back to her place. Then he caught himself. His mission wasn’t about himself. It was about Poppy and her happiness.

But it was getting harder and harder to remember that. All he could think about was being with her himself. It was almost an—obsession.

Why did he want this mortal woman so much?

She shifted by his side, a hint of cinnamon reaching his nose like the warm spices of home. Her heat radiated over him like morning sunlight. Her face was ethereal, pure, lovely.

He paused. What was wrong with him? He was getting all—poetic, flowery—nauseating.

His gaze slid to her again. She looked beautiful—sweet and sexy all at the same time in a pair of jeans, a simple, fitted black top with a crocheted, bright pink scarf and black ballet flats. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, glossy and flyaway.

“You look amazing,” he found himself saying as if the thoughts just couldn’t stay contained in his head.

“Thank you.” She smiled, although he could see in her dark eyes that she was nervous.

Those nerves bothered him. They told him she still cared about this Adam guy. But the bigger question was why did he care that she cared? She was a project—why couldn’t he remember that?

She scanned the crowd, even rising up on her tiptoes to see the stage. Then she shrugged.

“I don’t see him.”

A feeling altogether too much like relief spread through his chest. He pushed the feeling aside and gestured to the bar. “Let’s get a drink.”

She nodded, still scanning the room.

He weaved his way through the crowd, a mixture of younger and older patrons. The area around the bar was packed, but he caught Poppy’s hand and edged his way through, need for a drink making him more determined.

“Well, he still draws in a big crowd,” Poppy said, as she squeezed through a group of thirty-something women.

Killian nodded, not pleased by that comment either.

He made it to the bar, waving to a bustling bartender who ignored him.

Wait on me now.

The bartender stopped in mid-order and walked over to Killian.

“Hey,” the patron the bartender been helping yelled down that bar at him.

Go away.

The man promptly left the bar, drinkless, rejoining his group of friends, who were none too happy that he returned empty-handed.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked Killian, who looked at Poppy.

“Pinot noir, please.”

“A double of Glenfiddich.”

Not the year and the quality of the whisky he had at home, but tonight it would suffice.

Beside him, Poppy still searched the crowd.

Oh, yeah, it would do for tonight.

The bartender returned with the drinks, and Killian opened a tab. He took a long draught before handing the wine to Poppy.

“See him?”

She shook her head. “Maybe he didn’t end up playing here tonight after all.”

Could they be that lucky? He took another gulp of the scotch whisky.

Killian gritted his teeth more at his own stupidity than the burn of the liquor. Why was he being so ridiculous about this? He wasn’t seriously involved with this woman. They were hanging out and having sex. He had no ties to her, and it wasn’t as if he could have more with her anyway.

“You’re a fuckin’ demon,” he muttered to himself, but Poppy frowned at him, her dark eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“What did you say?”

But he was saved from having to answer as a man jostled into her. Both turned to apologize, but then neither said a word.

The man spoke first. “Poppy.”

“Adam,” Poppy said.

The man—Adam—hugged her then. Poppy remained stiff in his embrace for a second, then returned the hug, her arms going around his shoulders.

Killian watched, his jaw aching from how tightly he was clenching his teeth. He took a sip of his whisky, but even that didn’t stem his desire to gnash his teeth.

Finally they parted.

“Eric told me you might come,” Adam said, his gaze roaming over her, eating up the sight of her.

Poppy smiled, her eyes actually alight with some emotion that looked far too much like happiness for Killian’s taste.

“Yes. I was so surprised to see him.”

“I’m so surprised to see you,” Adam said, touching her arm. Then he gestured across the bar. “Come sit with us. Eric and his wife are over there. And a couple of my friends.”

“Okay.” Poppy started to follow him, then stopped, suddenly remembering Killian was there.

“Oh Adam, this is my fr—”

Before she could finish, Killian moved forward to extend his hand. “Fiancé. I’m Poppy’s fiancé. Killian.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Killian could see Poppy’s shocked expression, but he ignored her, offering Adam his most charming smile.