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Gwen abruptly stopped, catching Ambrosius by surprise. He looked back at her, felt her limp grip on his arm.
“You … you’ve never been on a date before?”
“Is that so surprising? I told you; I’ve been trapped in that prison for centuries.”
It was difficult to be a creature of impulse, to need constant stimulation, yet never fully experiencing it for himself. Ambrosius had been around the world more times than he could count. Had seen metros and tiny villages. Sometimes, he’d be there for weeks, sometimes days. Ambrosius had stood by the register and watched the passage of time through crowded windows. Had witnessed humanity grow and change, and yet somehow, stay exactly the same. They were all miserable, no matter what they did. All looking for something to help fill the void, to help them forget their misery.
Ambrosius trusted that Gwen wanted him for more than just that.
“Does that mean you … you’ve never…”
He waited, allowing her to squirm helplessly for the right words. If for nothing else, but to enjoy how adorably flustered she was. This same gorgeous woman who demanded he fuck her awake was stumbling over this strange little conversation about his lack of dating history.
“When would I? I was much more concerned with surviving and adapting as the years went by,” Ambrosius explained as he took her hand in his. “Does that … bother you?”
“No!” Gwen exclaimed, fingers interlocking with his in a tight grip. “No, not at all. I’m just … you surprised me. You-you’re good.”
“I’m good?”
“You just made it sound like you were more … experienced when we first met. With the whole explicit consent thing.”
“Wanting something and doing something aren’t always the same things,” Ambrosius explained. “Our … relationship took me a bit by surprise, my bittersweet. Like you said, nothing about us has been normal, and I rather like it that way. Though, I am curious what you meant about being ‘good’?”
“You know what I mean,” she huffed, casting a quick glance around her.
Ambrosius grinned. “No, I don’t. Explain.”
“No way, you liar!” Gwen exclaimed. “You just want me to feed your ego.”
“Would that really be so awful?”
“You don’t need the help.”
Ambrosius chuckled.
They walked down the long strip of food trucks and tents containing business owners with their small wares. He browsed handmade ceramics, smelled the oil from French fries and warm pastries, and indulged in every tug on his wrist. It was difficult not to let Gwen dictate their time together. She was more familiar with the city, and Ambrosius was surprised to find himself content with just gazing at her.
Witnessing her feed was a sight to behold. Gwen was sure, almost bold in the way she would casually do it. A stark difference from the unsettled woman after her first meal. There was a subtlety to it that assured Ambrosius that he would not have to worry about her while he was away. That she would be able to take care of herself—at least when it came to eating humans.
Defending herself from other monsters was an entirely different matter. One that he considered very carefully as Gwen retrieved a drink from a lemonade truck. Ambrosius would have to be sure once the Soul Covenant was complete, Gwen took the book into her arms. The sooner she learned that bit of magic, the stronger she would be. Thesafershe would be.
The demon was shaken from his musings by the sight of Gwen’s heels as she approached him. There was an annoyed expression on her gorgeous face, hands gripping the drinks in each hand a little too tightly.
“The guy behind me totally grabbed my ass,” Gwen grumbled as she handed him a blue drink.
Ambrosius accepted it, so thrown by her words that he didn’t anticipate her sitting in his lap. Gwen immediately sipped the pink drink in her other hand with a scowl on her face.
“Whodid what to your ass?”
“The guy in the blue cap,” Gwen explained. “He grabbed me, but I was so startled, I froze. I can’t believe I froze. I should have just eaten him!”
He found the human in question among the crowd, no more than fifty feet away. The human’s eyes glued to his cell phone with a fresh lemonade in his other hand. Ambrosius wondered which hand had touched her.
The demon placed the blue drink on the picnic table behind him, then wrapped his arms around Gwen’s waist. She looked upset, rightfully so, and the last thing he wanted was his warlock to be upset.
“We could kill him,” Ambrosius offered.
Gwen paused, eyes darting toward the man and back to Ambrosius. Slowly, she dropped the straw from her lips. He found it amusing that she couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.