Page 5 of My Professor is a Demon (Demons for Hire)

Oscar

I couldn't answer—didn't know how to explain the impossible connection between us. Instead, I held her tighter as another shock wave rippled through the area.

This time, I felt my disguise slip further, features shifting momentarily toward my true form. Charlotte gasped, her hands coming up to frame my face as the change rippled through me.

"I knew it," she breathed, wonder rather than fear in her voice. "I knew you weren't human."

I pulled away abruptly, forcing my appearance back under control, rebuilding the walls between us. "We need to leave. Now. It's not safe."

"But the readings—the data—" she protested, still more excited than afraid despite what she'd glimpsed.

"Can be collected remotely," I insisted, gathering the core monitoring equipment. "This area is dangerous, Charlotte. More than we understood."

Something in my tone must have convinced her, because she nodded.

"I won't tell anyone," she said quietly as we headed back toward the main campus. "Whatever you are, your secret is safe with me."

The simple promise, offered without demand for explanation or reciprocal revelation, touched something deep within me. I’d never known trust that hadn’t come with conditions.

"Thank you," I said, the words inadequate for what I felt.

We walked in companionable silence until the lights of the dormitories came into view. Before we reached the building, Charlotte stopped, turning to face me in the gentle summer darkness.

"When you're ready to tell me," she said softly, "I'll be ready to listen."

Then she stretched up on tiptoes and, before I could react, pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. Her lips left a burning imprint on my skin, her supernatural signature briefly merging with mine in a way that sent shockwaves through my carefully constructed barriers.

"Goodnight, Professor," she said, sunny smile returning as she bounced away toward the doors, leaving me standing speechless in her wake.

I touched my cheek where her lips had been, feeling the lingering connection between us. In that brief contact, I'd sensed something impossible. Something I missed during the overwhelming experience at the eastern quadrant—her energy signature wasn't merely compatible with mine; it was complementary, as if designed specifically to balance the chaos of my demonic nature.

Whatever Charlotte Evers was, she was far more than the human graduate student she appeared to be. And my growing feelings for her were far more dangerous than she could possibly understand.

***

I glared at the midnight darkness outside my apartment window, willing the shadows to reveal their secrets. Three sleepless nights spent monitoring the eastern quadrant from a distance had yielded disturbing patterns but no clear answers. The corruption in the ley lines was spreading, creating subtle disharmonies that intensified supernatural tensions throughout Midnight Creek.

More concerning was Hell's unusual silence. Vorthazul should have demanded progress reports on my investigation of Charlotte Evers. Instead, nothing—no communication, no demonic visitations. Such restraint was uncharacteristic and deeply suspicious.

Charlotte . Even thinking her name sent a pulse through my energy field. Since our expedition, since she'd glimpsed my true nature and responded with acceptance rather than fear, I'd been fighting a losing battle against my growing attachment to her.

My phone buzzed with a message. I expected one of the other professors or the dean with some tiresome update. Instead, I found Charlotte's name on the screen:

Found something in today's readings. Energy signature doesn't match natural patterns. Can we meet? Important. - CE

I should discourage further contact. The wisest course would be to create distance, protect her through separation rather than continued interaction.

Instead, I typed: My office. 30 minutes.

Her response came immediately: On my way. Bringing coffee and those chocolate croissants you pretend not to like.

I smiled despite myself. Her uncanny ability to notice details about me—preferences I thought I'd kept hidden—was both disconcerting and strangely warming.

When she arrived exactly twenty-seven minutes later, her cheeks were flushed from hurrying across campus, blonde curls escaping their confinement as usual. She carried the promised coffee and pastries, along with a messenger bag bulging with research materials.

Tonight, she wore a pale blue dress that ended mid-thigh, the color matching her eyes and highlighting the creamy skin of her legs. I found my gaze following the line of her thigh as she moved around my office.

"You won't believe what I found," she announced without preamble, setting everything down on my desk. "The energy signatures in the eastern quadrant—they're not random corruption. They're a message."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite my caution. "A message? From whom to whom?"

"That's the fascinating part." She pulled out sheaves of printouts, spreading them across my desk with characteristic enthusiasm. "When I converted the energy pattern disruptions into visual wavelengths, this appeared."

She pointed to a series of geometric patterns that seemed vaguely familiar, though I couldn't immediately place them. "These symbols aren't in any conventional magical taxonomy, but they appear in boundary mythology—stories about entities that maintain separation between supernatural realms."

"Boundary entities?" I asked, a cold suspicion forming. "Like dimensional guardians?"

"Exactly!" She beamed at me, clearly delighted I'd made the connection. "According to obscure texts in the restricted section, they once maintained balance between realms, preventing any single supernatural power from dominating across dimensions."

Including Hell, I thought but didn't say. If boundary entities were involved, the situation was even more complex than I'd feared.

She leaned over the desk, tracing the patterns with her finger, completely absorbed in the discovery. The position caused her dress to pull tight across her hips, outlining the gentle curve that my hands itched to follow. A strand of golden hair fell forward, brushing against the graceful column of her neck, drawing my attention to the pulse point visible beneath her delicate skin. My enhanced senses could detect its quickened rhythm, matching my own increasing pulse.

"These symbols," Charlotte said, "they're not creating corruption—they're a warning about it. Almost like... a call for help."

"Or a test," I murmured, pieces falling into place.

"A test?" She looked up, curiosity bright in her eyes.

"Some ancient entities test potential allies before revealing themselves," I explained carefully. "Creating controlled challenges to evaluate capabilities and intentions."

Charlotte considered this, absently tucking an errant curl behind her ear. "So they might be watching us try to solve the problem they created? That's... morally questionable."

"Dimensional entities operate according to different ethical frameworks," I said, more familiar with such beings than I could admit. "They prioritize long-term balance over immediate harmony."

"That's still manipulative," she insisted, her inherent sense of fairness asserting itself. "Playing with people's lives to see who measures up."

I found myself smiling at her indignation. "Your moral compass remains admirably consistent, even when confronting potentially cosmic forces."

"Someone has to hold supernatural entities accountable," she replied with a small grin. "Might as well be me."

Her confidence, her essential brightness even when facing overwhelming mysteries, continued to astonish me. In all my life, I'd rarely encountered anyone who approached the supernatural world with such a perfect balance of academic curiosity and moral certainty.

"The question remains," I said, returning to the research, "why now? Boundary entities have been notably absent from supernatural affairs for centuries. Why resurface with cryptic messages in Midnight Creek's ley lines?"

Charlotte's expression turned thoughtful. "Maybe because something is genuinely threatening the boundaries between realms. The blood magic ritual last month nearly opened a portal between dimensions. What if that was just the beginning of something bigger?"

The possibility had occurred to me as well. Hell had long coveted greater influence in the human realm, seeking ways to extend their power beyond traditional constraints. If boundary entities were stirring, it suggested the threat was significant enough to warrant intervention from forces that typically remained neutral.

"Your connection to the ley lines could be important," I said, studying her carefully. "You perceive patterns most trained sensitives miss. That suggests an unusual affinity with exactly the energies these boundary entities manipulate."

"You think I'm somehow connected to them?" she asked, surprisingly calm about the possibility.

"I think there's more to your abilities than either of us currently understands," I answered honestly. "And possibly more to your heritage as well."

She absorbed this without the shock or denial most would display. "That would explain a lot, actually. Why I can sense magical patterns intuitively, and why our energies connect the way they do."

The casual mention of our energy connection sent a jolt through me. We hadn't discussed that phenomenon since the night in the eastern quadrant, though I'd felt it every time we were near each other—a harmonic resonance that grew stronger rather than diminishing with repeated exposure.

"About that connection," I began, then hesitated, uncharacteristically uncertain of my words.

Charlotte's expression softened. "It's okay. You don't have to explain what you are. I've done my research since that night."

Ice formed in my veins. "What research?"

"Supernatural entities whose energy signatures disrupt normal magnetic fields. Beings who can alter their appearance at will. Ancient presences who understand magical theory across centuries of development. And I did get a glimpse of your true form the other night." She ticked the points off on her fingers. "Not many options fit all criteria."

"And your conclusion?" I asked carefully, bracing for her response.

She met my gaze directly, fearless as always. "You're a demon. Or at least, you have demonic heritage. But you're not evil." She stated this last part with absolute certainty, as if classifying a botanical specimen.

I stared at her, momentarily speechless. In all my long existence, I had never been so efficiently and accurately assessed—nor had my demonic nature been so casually accepted.

"That doesn't concern you?" I finally managed.

"Should it?" She tilted her head, genuine curiosity in her expression. "You've had countless opportunities to harm me or others at the college. Instead, you've worked to protect the ley lines and helped stop the blood ritual."

"Appearances can be deceiving," I warned, needing her to understand the seriousness of what she'd uncovered. "Demons are manipulative by nature."

"So are most of my professors," she countered with a smile. "At least you're interesting about it."

A laugh escaped me—perhaps the first truly unguarded response I'd had in centuries. "Your ability to normalize the supernatural is remarkable."

"I grew up in Midnight Creek," she reminded me. "My best friend is a witch mated to a werewolf. I talk to books and they answer. 'Normal' is relative."

She reached across the desk, hesitating just before touching my hand. "May I?"

The request—so simple, so respectful of boundaries I wasn't accustomed to having acknowledged—undid me. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

Her fingers touched the back of my hand, and the now-familiar energy connection flared between us—stronger than before, a harmony of power that sent warmth spreading through my entire being. But this time, there was new awareness in her eyes as she observed the reaction, a scientist cataloging a fascinating phenomenon.

"Our energies shouldn't be compatible," she noted. "Demons and humans typically create discord, not harmony."

"Which suggests you're not entirely human," I completed her thought.

"Or you're not entirely demonic," she countered. "At least, not anymore."

The insight struck uncomfortably close to truth. My questioning of Hell's methods and my preference for knowledge over destruction had always marked me as different from my brethren.

"These boundary symbols," I said, redirecting the conversation to safer territory as I tried to catch my breath from all her revelations. "If they're indeed a message or a test, we need to understand what response is expected."

Charlotte allowed the change of subject, though her small smile suggested she recognized the evasion. "I think we need to go back to the eastern quadrant. Not just to observe, but to interact with the energy patterns directly."

"Too dangerous," I said immediately.

"Because of the boundary entities or because of Hell?" she asked shrewdly.

I stared at her. "What do you know about Hell's interest in Midnight Creek?"

"Just what I've pieced together," she admitted. "The blood ritual had infernal elements and the ley line corruption benefits chaotic forces rather than balanced ones. Also, you're clearly working for someone you'd rather not be working for."

Her perception was as unnerving as ever. "Hell has... expectations regarding my investigation of the ley line anomalies. And of you."

"Me?" Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "What would Hell want with a graduate student?"

"Your connection to the ley lines makes you valuable," I said carefully. "And potentially threatening to certain agendas."

Understanding dawned in her eyes. "They sent you to investigate me, didn't they? That's why you agreed to supervise my independent study."

I couldn't lie to her, not when she'd seen through so much already. "Initially, yes. My boss ordered me to determine what you are and whether you pose a threat to Hell's interests."

"And your conclusion?" She watched me, surprisingly calm about discovering she'd been under supernatural investigation.

"That you deserve protection, not exploitation," I said. "Whatever your connection to the ley lines or boundary entities might be, Hell has no right to it. Or to you."

Charlotte's expression softened, something warm and dangerous flickering in her eyes. "That's probably not what your boss wanted to hear."

"No," I agreed, the weight of my quiet rebellion suddenly heavy between us. "It won’t be."

"So what happens now?" she asked. "If Hell wants information about me that you're not providing?"

"Eventually, they'll send someone else," I admitted. "Which is why understanding your connection to these boundary symbols is increasingly urgent. Knowledge is protection in the supernatural world."

Charlotte nodded, serious for once. "Then we go back to the east side of campus. Together. Tonight."

I should have refused. Should have insisted on safer methods, on more research before direct engagement. Instead, I found myself agreeing, already calculating what protective measures I could implement.

"After midnight," I stipulated. "When the campus is deserted."

"I'll bring better snacks this time," she promised, her irrepressible optimism returning. "Supernatural investigation requires proper fuel."

As she gathered her research materials, her hand brushed mine again, our energies harmonizing briefly in that impossible, beautiful way. She looked up at me, something unspoken passing between us.

"Whatever happens," she said quietly, "I'm glad it's happening with you. Demon and all."

The simple statement hit me with unexpected force. Few had ever chosen my company willingly, much less expressed gratitude for it. Most who knew my true nature reacted with fear or attempted manipulation. None had ever looked at me with the genuine warmth I saw in Charlotte's eyes.

"Be careful what you wish for, Miss Evers," I warned softly. "Demons make dangerous companions."

“Call me Charlotte,” she insisted.

And for once, I couldn’t argue. “Only if you call me Oscar.”

She smiled and reached over to squeeze my hand. “Oscar.”

“Dangerous,” I muttered, but I didn’t move. I didn’t want to admit how much I needed this, needed her.

“So are these boundary entities, apparently,” she said. "Yet here we are, right in the middle of their cosmic test. Sometimes the dangerous path is also the right one."

After she left, I stood motionless for a long time, her words echoing in my mind. The dangerous path. I had been walking it since the moment I chose to protect Charlotte rather than report on her. Every step had taken me further from Hell's redemption, closer to something I hadn't dared name or acknowledge.