Truth or Demon

CHAPTER 30

“You are attracted to her.”

Killian frowned, looking around, wondering if he was somehow hearing his own voice, aloud.

Then the mangy white cat leapt up onto the kitchen counter.

“Vepar,” he muttered. “You really need a hobby.”

“A hobby like your little mortal perhaps?”

Killian gritted his teeth. Damn, he really disliked this jerk—a dislike that was intensifying with each of these unorthodox visits.

The cat paced the kitchen counter, its mangled tail flicking.

“Poppy is her name, right?”

Killian didn’t answer, not seeing any point. Why was Vepar here? Killian knew he did have to go back to Hell at some point, probably sooner rather than later, but that wasn’t Vepar’s call.

“She’s quite lovely. I can see where she’d be a delightful little hobby.”

Killian immediately tensed, glaring at Vepar. “When have you seen her?” He’d assumed Vepar knew Poppy’s name from him, not that he recalled saying it, but there was no way he should have seen her. Not if he’d only been possessing this awful cat.

Then Killian recalled the man from the art show.

“You were there last night.”

Vepar pulled back the cat’s lips in a sneer. “I was. She was delightful. And so tempting. But I doubt Satan would be as understanding.”

Killian growled low in his throat and lunged for the cat. Vepar jumped away, darting past Killian’s legs and out of the room.

“Satan would love to hear about the dalliance that’s keeping you from your work, now wouldn’t he?” Vepar called from somewhere in the living room.

Killian stood in the middle of the living room, scanning the room for grayish-white fur.

“Vepar, you stay away from her. Or I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Satan is not pleased. I’d be more worried about that, if I were you.”

Vepar purred, the sound loud and oddly perverse. Then the room fell silent.

Killian growled again. Was Vepar telling the truth? Was Satan that angered by Killian’s absence? Killian didn’t quite believe him. But at the same time, Vepar had been at the art gallery. That was why Killian hadn’t been able to use his mind control, and that was why he’d sensed something off about that man. The guy had been possessed by Vepar.

“Just kill her,” Vepar’s earlier words echoed through Killian’s head. Would Vepar do that? He would if Satan ordered it.

The only thing Killian knew for certain was Poppy had to be guarded.

Poppy made a frustrated sound low in her throat as she tossed down the mascara wand and reached for a tissue. So far, getting ready for the evening had been nothing but an exercise in frustration.

Much like the day in general. Killian had been mostly true to his word, letting her work, although he’d stopped by twice. Just to say hi, he’d said, but she’d sensed a tenseness about him.

Maybe he was honestly as nervous about all this as she was.

She swiped at her watering eye and the smudge of black that now marred her cheek. And her nerves were taking their toll. So far she’d managed to cut herself shaving, burn a lock of her hair with the curling iron, and now poke herself in the eye with the mascara.

She looked worse than when she started getting ready.

“What are you doing?”

Poppy looked in the bathroom mirror to see Daisy behind her. She had on a baseball cap and Windbreaker. A backpack was slung over her shoulder.

“Getting more makeup in my eyes than on my lashes.”

Daisy smiled, excitement on her face, which Poppy knew wasn’t related to her trip with Emma. “You look great.”

Poppy didn’t feel like she looked great.

“What time is he picking you up?”

“Six,” Poppy said, although the he Daisy was referring to wasn’t the he who was actually coming. Poppy didn’t feel good lying, but she wasn’t about to tell Daisy she was going to all this fuss for a date with Killian. Poppy still suspected Daisy had wanted to matchmake her and Killian, and she didn’t want Daisy getting any false hopes about that.

She certainly couldn’t explain that she was just having a fling with the man. No, Daisy would never know about that.

“Okay, well I have to head down to Emma’s. They are leaving in like fifteen minutes or so.”

“What time is it?” Poppy asked.

“Only five-fifteen. You have plenty of time.” Daisy grinned again like a kid finding out that Santa had left the very gift she’d asked for under the Christmas tree.

A pang of guilt tightened Poppy’s chest. But she took a deep breath and forced the remorse aside. After all, she was taking steps in the right direction.

Sort of, anyway.

Poppy turned as Daisy stepped into the bathroom. They hugged, and Poppy kissed her cheek.

“Be good.”

Daisy rolled her eyes. “I’m always good.”

“I know,” Poppy said, not holding back an ounce of the love and pride she felt for her little sister. Daisy was a great kid. She probably would have been no matter what, but Poppy allowed herself a moment of satisfaction. She had done a good job raising her sister thus far.

“Text me when you get there,” she told Daisy, hugging her again.

“Of course.”

“Actually, text me when you get on the road too.”

Daisy shook her head. “Don’t be such a worrywart. Just enjoy your evening.” She started to leave the room, then paused. “You haven’t even told me this guy’s name.”

The question caught Poppy off guard. She hesitated, then she spotted the shampoo on the edge of the tub. Herbal Essence.

“Herb,” she said automatically.

Daisy wrinkled her nose. “Herb? That’s not a hot name.”

Poppy made a face. She couldn’t disagree.

“Well, have fun with Herb. I hope he’s cuter than his name.”

“Oh, he is,” Poppy assured her. Killian was much cuter than the imaginary Professor Herb.

Daisy left then, off for her weekend of seaside fun.

What kind of fun was she going to have tonight? Poppy wondered as she returned to the mirror to repair the damage done earlier.

Killian had lurked in the hallway outside Poppy’s door most of the day—making sure Vepar, in any form, didn’t appear at her apartment. Now Daisy was gone, and he couldn’t wait any longer to see Poppy. Both to be sure she was safe and also just to see her.

Since his run-in with Vepar, he’d debated going back to the original plan of just finding Poppy a man and returning to Hell—tonight if possible. But he still wasn’t sure. Something kept telling him he had to stay. Something beyond this spell.

One thing was for sure, he had to keep Poppy safe.

He pounded on the door with more force than necessary, his nerves and protectiveness making him agitated, anxious.

What was taking her so long? He lifted his hand, ready to knock again, when he heard the knob rattle. Then the door opened to reveal a Poppy he’d never seen before.

And all other worries left his mind, as his gaze roamed over her. She looked … gorgeous.

She wore a Chinese-style dress with a high collar and ornate cloth buttons. The black brocade with bright red flowers brought out the paleness of her delicate features and the darkness of her wide eyes. Her brown hair was swept up into a loose chignon, tendrils escaping to frame her face. The dress stopped mid-thigh, revealing a long expanse of shapely legs and tiny feet encased in strappy black heels.

Her weight shifted from one of her small feet to the other, and Killian realized he was doing nothing but staring. He looked up at her face, only to realize she was staring at him too.

Once he’d formulated this “affair plan,” he’d purchased some new clothes just for this date. A Kenneth Cole suit coat, black tie. He’d also bought a Kenneth Cole shadow stripe dress shirt, which he wore with jeans. He’d even bought a new pair of black shoes. Bruno Magli.

He suspected not a single thing Poppy wore was designer, but her look blew him out of the water.

She obviously didn’t agree.

“You look amazing,” she said, smiling tentatively. Just a hint of the dimple he found so appealing appeared. A little tease.

“I think ‘amazing’ is the word that applies to you,” he told her. Then, for the first time, as if it was totally natural and truly his right, he kissed her. Right in the open doorway.

Poppy stayed in his arms for a few moments. Then, groaning, she pulled her lips away from his. But she rested her forehead against his chest.

“If we keep doing that, all the work of dressing up will be for nothing.”

Killian smiled, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head. He liked knowing she was struggling not to just head straight to the bedroom too. But he followed her lead, and with hands on her hips moved her away from him.

He smiled at her. “We’d better go now then. Or we never will.”

She nodded and disappeared back into the apartment to grab a black wrap and her purse.

Killian rested his head on the doorframe, willing his body to calm down. How could he be feeling like this? He had a crazy demon stalking Poppy. He had been gone from Hell for nearly a week. Gone from the place he considered home. And possibly, Satan was really pissed at him. Yet all he could think about was this woman. This little slip of a mortal.

He was losing his mind. But right now, he wanted nothing more than to follow her inside, close the door and ravish Poppy on every bare surface in the house. And just pretend nothing else existed except the two of them.

“Ready,” she said, returning to the door. He straightened and forced his brightest smile.

He nodded. He would figure out how to best protect her, but after tonight. Tonight was theirs.

Once out on the sidewalk, Poppy lifted her flushed face toward the evening breeze, thankful for the cool air.

One kiss and she was burning for the man. If she’d been a little more forward, she would have suggested forgetting the outing and just heading to bed. But she wasn’t that forward. Yet.

Silly girl, her aroused body told her. And she couldn’t argue. But she managed to rally and get her body under control. A bit.

“Where are we headed?” she asked.

He took her hand, linking his fingers through hers. “You just follow me.”

She smiled at his self-assured tone. “So you know your way around now, huh?”

“Well, considering I just spent a whole night walking around the city, I kind of gave myself a crash course.”

“Find any new ghosts?” she asked, wondering how many nights he’d been up wandering the spookier parts of historical Boston.

He gave her a look that she couldn’t quite decipher, and she noticed he tensed. The same tenseness she’d sensed during his visits today.

“None that we’re going to think about tonight.”

She got the definite feeling his response had a double meaning, but she didn’t understand it.

He led her to the T, and after several stops and a line change, Poppy realized they were headed for Beacon Hill.

“Where are we going?” Her curiosity was killing her.

“You’ll have to just wait and see.”

They walked another block, and then Killian stopped. Poppy looked around. “Are we here?”

He nodded. “We’re here.”

Poppy frowned. Most of the buildings along this street looked like brownstone apartments. Spring flowers had started to bloom in some of the flower boxes. And though it was beautiful, she couldn’t see why they were here.

She finally gave up, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “Why are we here?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward one of the brownstones. As they walked up the concrete steps, Poppy noticed a sign painted on the frosted glass of the front door in scrolling green lettering.

A Garden in Every Childhood.

“What is this?” Poppy asked.

“Go look.” He pushed open the door for her to enter.

She glanced at him, and he gave her an encouraging smile.

She stepped inside and realized it was a gallery. But unlike last night’s gallery, there was nothing “adult” about this exhibition. Instead of a world of the erotic, she was suddenly enveloped by an atmosphere of enchantment.

She walked farther into the room, her senses overwhelmed by color and texture and whimsy. Paintings of various sizes hung on the walls. Some done in watercolor, some in pencil, some in oils. All depicted fantasy worlds. Fairies, dragons, magical lands.

Poppy turned slowly, taking in everything until she’d come full circle back to face Killian.

“What is this place?”

“It’s a gallery that sells fantasy artwork. Some of the art here is from children’s books. A lot is just made specifically to sell.”

She gazed around her again, moving to look more closely at an amazing painting of a pond scene with flowers and water lilies and iridescent water nymphs waltzing on the water’s surface, leaving rippling patterns in their wake.

The one beside it was a darker pencil drawing of an irritable-looking ogre in his lair. The detailing of his scaly skin, his tattered clothing, the annoyance in his eyes—sheer magic.

She turned back to Killian, stunned. “How did you find this place?”

Killian shrugged, a smug little quirk to his lips. “I just happened upon it during one of my research trips.”

In truth, he really didn’t know how he’d found the tiny gallery himself. He’d been walking, his mind totally consumed with Poppy. And his dream. And what he’d said to Poppy in his dream.

Yet something had drawn him out of those thoughts, just in time to notice this particular townhouse and that particular, almost unreadable sign on the door.

He found himself climbing the steps to inspect the sign closer. When he’d been able to read the name, and realized it was a gallery, he’d immediately thought of Poppy’s artwork. Even before he’d peeked through the window. Even before he saw it was indeed a gallery of fantasy and fairy-tale artwork.

But as soon as he’d peeked inside, he knew he had to bring Poppy here.

In fact, this place had triggered the idea of an affair too. He supposed whimsical fairy-tale images were an odd segue into that train of thought, but seeing the art got him thinking about Poppy getting her confidence back. About her artwork and herself.

He started to think that was why he was really here. And why he was so attracted to her. He was meant to have a fling with this woman. He was meant to give her back her groove.

He should be doubting that. He should be worrying about getting Daisy’s wish granted, getting out of here and keeping Poppy safe. That was what a wise demon would do, but he wasn’t. Again, it was as if he couldn’t. He had to carry out this wish in a certain way—and that way required his staying here.

Now, watching her smile with amazement and admiration at the painting in front of her, he felt certain he was doing the right thing.

“These pieces are amazing. I love them.” She beamed at him, flashing that dimple that for some reason he found to be both so adorable and so sexy.

She meandered to another painting, mesmerized by the details. Then she looked at him again, and though her lips were still curved into a smile, he sensed hesitance in her dark eyes.

“This—this is like the kind of artwork I used to do.”

“I know.”

She gave him a querying look. “I know I told you I wanted to illustrate children’s books, but I didn’t think I told you my work was like this.”

“No, that’s true. You didn’t.” He paused, wondering if she’d be annoyed by the fact he’d seen her work. Then he decided lying wasn’t an option—not when he couldn’t tell the truth about so many other things. Besides, he wanted her to realize her work was amazing.

“I accidentally saw it that day when I brought you your copy edits so you could work on the couch. I’d been looking for a book you could use as a makeshift desk, and pulled down one of your sketchbooks.”

Poppy nodded, but he couldn’t really read her reaction. Did she consider that a breach of privacy? Was she upset?

“I was so impressed,” he said. “You are very talented. As talented as these artists, if not more so.”

Poppy looked back at the painting in front of her, an oil of a fairy town built on the limbs of a giant oak. Lightning bugs served as streetlights. Leaves and acorns were fashioned into houses. Fairies flitted here and there.

“Do you really think so?” She didn’t look in his direction as she asked.

“I do. You are amazing.”

She looked at him then, hope glittering in her eyes. She really didn’t quite believe him, but she wanted to. He could see that.

He reached for her hands then, pulling her to face him.

“You have no idea how amazing you are.” He kissed her then, a sweet, soft kiss, maybe a little worshipful too.

“In every way,” he murmured as they parted.

Her cheeks colored like pink glaze on white porcelain, but he wasn’t sure if the blush was because of his words or his actions. Either way, she’d see how wonderful she was. He’d be sure of that.

After the kiss, they wandered around the gallery, hand in hand, stopping to admire and to discuss. Poppy seemed to favor colored-pencil drawings. She liked lots of detail and color. Killian did too.

Once Poppy had looked her fill, he suggested they go eat.

Poppy seemed almost relieved at that idea, and Killian didn’t think it was because she was starving.

“Are you nervous about what might happen later?” he asked with a naughty grin.

“Maybe.” She cast him an apprehensive look.

He stopped walking down the sidewalk, drawing her to a halt too.

“There’s no pressure here,” he told her. Although he wouldn’t lie to himself that he was hopeful there was going to be a “later.”

He kissed her, keeping this one brief, so as not to shatter her nerves completely.

“Thank you,” she said with a small, still unsure smile. But he did notice her gaze returned to his lips, and he chose to see that as a good sign.

But instead of kissing her again, which was what he wanted to do, he started walking again.

“Sushi, here we come.”

Poppy glanced at him, this time her expression a different kind of uncertain. “Sushi? Really?”