Truth or Demon

Connecticut.”

“Since you’re from out of town,” Daisy repeated, “then you are going to ask her to show you around.”

The demon frowned. “This doesn’t sound quick to me. I am busy, you know.” Then he muttered something about Satan, and he was clearly pretty agitated.

Daisy hadn’t considered that. But she supposed being evil did take up quite a bit of time. And she was counting on this guy … this thing? Whatever, she was counting on him to find her sister Mr. Right?

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” she said to her friends.

“No—duh,” Madison said in her usual helpful way.

“It isn’t one of our best,” Emma agreed.

“Well, since we are finally in agreement on something,” the demon said, “why don’t we call this whole matchmaking scheme off and let me get back to my world?”

Daisy reached behind her and pulled the book that had started everything out of her back pocket. She flipped the dog-eared pages right to the exact spell she wanted. She scanned the spell that she knew nearly by heart. Shaking her head, she offered him a pained look over the top of the open book.

“It says this spell is binding until the request is fulfilled. Nonrefundable, nontransferable.”

She jumped as the demon snaked out a hand with blinding speed and plucked the book from her grasp.

“Hey!” she said, but watched as he read the passages she’d just perused, then snapped the book closed and scanned the cover.

He made an irritated noise low in his throat as he read the author’s name aloud, “Ellina Kostova. I should have guessed.”

“Do you know her?” Emma asked, excitement raising her voice an octave, a fan-girl moment clearly overshadowing her fear. That was until the demon glared at her. Then she shrank back to her place in the corner.

“I know of her,” he said. Obviously, he wasn’t a fan. He looked at the book again, then held it back out to Daisy.

“So what was the exact wish?” he asked.

“Well, I asked that you find my sister her true love. Someone who will stand by her, make her laugh, inspire her, understand her, and …” Daisy hated that she could feel herself blushing. “And you know, make her toes curl.”

The demon frowned. “Make her toes curl?”

Daisy shrugged, feeling more heat creep into her cheeks. “You know … make her feel all giddy and excited and …”

“Get her off,” Madison said.

The demon shot the girl a surprisingly parental frown. “Are you old enough to say things like that?”

Madison rolled her eyes.

The demon ignored the look and turned back to Daisy.

“And why would I be able to find this person for her? In fact, what do I know about all those things? Except the last one,” he said quickly, holding up a hand to stop Madison, who’d started to speak. “I know how to handle the last one.”

Madison looked doubtful.

Daisy only half-registered the exchange, considering why she did think this guy—this demon—could find such a person. Surely the spell had brought forth this particular demon for a reason. It wasn’t like they’d had their pick of demonic entities. He was just the one who came. He had to be the right one.

“Do you have any special powers?”

He didn’t answer right away, and Daisy got the feeling he didn’t want to share that information.

“Tell me if you have any special powers,” she said, putting as much authority in her tone as she could.

He gritted his teeth, but then said, “I have the ability to control thoughts and feelings.”

“Whoa.” Madison actually looking impressed for the first time since entering the apartment. “See, we totally could have gotten him to convince my mom to let me and Connor date.”

This time it was Daisy’s turn to roll her eyes. “Next time.”

“Next time?” The demon shook his head. “There isn’t going to be a next time.”

Daisy didn’t argue, since she wasn’t even sure he could pull off the current wish.

“So that’s it,” she said instead. “You need to find my sister her true love. Then you are free to go.”

He sighed and that muscle in his jaw ticced, but he nodded.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s get started.”

CHAPTER 5

Poppy had just flipped the last pancake when she heard the door to the apartment open.

“Daisy? Girls?” she called. “You’re just in time.”

She turned from the stove to see Daisy and her friends filing into the kitchen. But it was the tall figure trailing behind them that caught her attention.

The man from last night. She stared, taking in his sleep-mussed hair and the hint of five o’clock shadow shading his cut jawline.

“Madison brought her cousin,” Daisy said, even though her explanation was totally unnecessary. The man seemed to eat up all the space in the relatively large kitchen, even before he was fully inside it.

“You know my mom,” Madison said. “Nothing but some breakfast bars and skim milk. I hope it’s okay?”

Poppy started at Madison’s question and realized she was still staring at the man. Manners, Poppy. Especially after last night.

“Of course,” she said, nodding—perhaps a little too vigorously. Which she could only hope was distracting him from the blush burning her cheeks. She was blushing, of course, about the events of the last night. Certainly not because she’d been gaping at him like a mesmerized schoolgirl.

She gestured to the table, an old country kitchen piece that had been her mother’s. Then she busied herself with gathering plates and silverware.

Last night, over hot chocolate, she’d talked to the girls about this man. They hadn’t provided much more information than they had while he was prone on the floor. He was Madison’s cousin. From Sweden. But he’d lived in the States for several years. Apparently in Connecticut. And he was here for work—although she didn’t know what that work was.

The girls had been all fidgety and restless, which she’d chalked up to the crazy events of the evening and copious amounts of soda and candy.

She placed the platter of pancakes in the center of the table, looking at the girls now. They sat around the table, watching the man who remained in the kitchen doorway. And they didn’t look any more relaxed. In fact, they all stared at him like he was a creature from an entirely different world.

She glanced at the object of their attention and supposed she understood their reactions. He was unusually attractive, like he’d tumbled out of an ad for Calvin Klein or some other world where men were tall and muscular with brooding, pouty good looks.

She glanced away from him, busying herself with getting juice glasses down from the cupboard, knocking two of them over as she set them on the table. She didn’t look back at the man—Killian—because well, she was just trying to get the food on the table before everything got cold.

She could definitely see how daunting Killian could be for these young girls. But nothing so earthshaking for a grounded, grown woman such as herself.

She rummaged around the fridge, searching the shelves for the maple syrup.

“Can I help you with anything?”

Poppy started, banging her head on the handle of the freezer as she snapped upright.

“Ouch.”