Page 28 of Demon

I bit. I shouldn’t have. That was dangerous. Indie stared at me for a while, contemplating, and I stared back, trying to control the fear niggling at me. Then he smiled, his brown eyes crinkling at the sides. They were a lighter shade than Demon’s, rich and deep, full of stories and of life well lived.

“So, you want a coffee then, lass?” His voice rumbled, breaking my gaze and the hypnotic pull of his eyes.

“Please.”

“Some sort of fancy shit? I have a machine here,” he pointed to the big silver coffee machine that looked barely used.

I shook my head. I worked with that almost every day, the scent ingrained in my nostrils, the bitterness of freshly ground coffee and the pungent smell of frothed milk.

“Instant, if you’ve got some, please. Two spoons of coffee. No Sugar. No milk.”

The grey-haired man nodded, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Love a lass who knows what she wants.” He winked as he turned, a gesture towards Demon, who was quietly watching the exchange. Dark eyebrows pulled together in disgruntled, uneven peaks.

“What?” I challenged.

“You know, you could be a bit less abrasive?”

“And you could stop putting people’s heads through my windows and then I could still be in bed.”

“Demon been losing his shit again?” The voice from behind me was light, feminine, and far too gentle for this place.

I turned. She was petite. A good few inches smaller than me, with a round face and sparkling blue eyes. Wavy blonde hair framed that face, immaculately styled as if it wasn’t 11am on a Sunday morning. Sunday mornings meant for lie-ins and chill time.

“I’m Suzy,” she said when I did nothing other than stare at her. “Magnet’s wife.”

“I don’t think I know who he is.”

She smiled. It was friendly, no hint of an agenda. “He’ll be along later. He’s got some business to attend to. Demon, could you ask Indie to get me a coke when he’s back? I’ve got some patches to sew up.”

“Sure, darl’”

The small blonde woman turned away, moving back to a table by the window. A pang of jealousy, stupid and irrational took a stab at my chest. I shook my head. I should recognise this, this with Demon, for what it was. There were so many reasons to not get attached.

“Darl’ huh? You into sharing each other’s wives here in the club?”

Demon searched my face, confusion on his.

“Only the twins. It’s kinda some whacked up thing of theirs. Why?”

“You called her darl’.”

“So?”

“You’ve called me that too.”

“I call women that if I like them.”

“You like me then, huh?”

“Nah. That’s why we just fucked. Cos, I hate you. Fuck’s sake, Ciara. It’s just a term. It means nothing.”

“So, I mean nothing then?”

“Fuck me!”

“Already did that.”