Page 24

23

Relaxed

Gwen

F or the first time in who knew how long, Gwen slept past six in the morning.

She woke up at seven with a tenderness between her legs she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Gwen didn’t complain, though, as she pushed her bedding aside and made a beeline for the toilet.

Her bra, cutoffs, and shirt were still piled in a corner from last night’s shower.

Gwen hadn’t dared check the front pocket of her jeans for the eyeball.

The spider colony was still at work, and if Gwen didn’t know better, she would say the little monsters had doubled the size of their home.

She eyed them as she washed her hands, watching them skitter back and forth as busy as bees.

“Y’all are a lot, aren’t you?”

They didn’t answer her, but Gwen could see a few of them still at her voice.

Probably scared of me, supernatural spiders or not .

Gwen waved to them as she exited, headed toward her coffee maker.

As her first cup brewed, Gwen found herself eyeing her kitchen table.

She had fully sanitized it once she had collected herself.

Which had taken much longer than she would have liked.

Now that her head was a little clearer, Gwen instantly began to think about how letting her demonic, lying wannabe-boss finger bang her probably wasn’t the wisest idea.

But fuck, did it feel nice, Gwen thought as she took her first sip of coffee.

More than nice, if Gwen was honest with herself, though she didn’t want to admit it.

She distracted herself from dwelling on it as she glanced at her coffee with mild confusion.

Gwen had put the normal amount of creamer in it, so why did it taste so …

tasteless? She ran her tongue along the roof of her mouth.

No, she could taste the coffee and the sugar, but it was so faint compared to how it usually tasted.

Is this another weird warlock thing?

Ambrosius had said human food would only get her so far.

Was this what he’d meant?

Maybe it was her stubbornness, but Gwen drank the cup anyway as she contemplated what to do.

Her entire situation had changed—once again—in the last twenty-four hours.

Death, demons, and sex all in one night would probably make an ordinary person freak the fuck out.

But much like the death of her neighbor, Gwen felt oddly okay with it.

She knew she shouldn’t be.

She should feel the weight of her neighbor’s death heavily on her shoulders, but it just wasn’t there.

It was difficult not to wonder if this was how hunters felt when they killed deer.

The deer provided food for families, the same way fish or cows did.

And honestly, was this any different?

Humanity was at the top of the food chain, as far as Gwen had been concerned several days ago, and now they obviously weren’t.

Ambrosius had said she wasn’t human anymore, and she needed to eat from them in order to live.

Last night had been an unfortunate accident, but Ambrosius had offered her a way around that.

She would just have to learn how to do exactly what she did last night, but more discreetly.

However Gwen did it, she would have to figure it out soon.

Her day was already filled with a dentist appointment at noon, and then an evening closing shift.

She’d have roughly an hour between the two for lunch.

Shit, my hair!

Gwen had completely forgotten to box dye it the night before.

She picked up the box, turning it over to read the instructions.

Halfway through, Gwen suddenly stopped with a realization.

She liked her pink hair—no, loved it.

And the more she saw it, the happier it made her.

Why bother dying it back to its ordinary shade?

Her boss would probably complain, granted Mary would do it as politely and as passive aggressively as possible.

She’d likely reference something from the employee handbook.

I think I still have that thing…

Gwen found it twenty minutes later, stuffed beneath her laundry detergent above the washer.

It was more a printout stapled together than anything resembling a book.

She flipped to the section regarding the dress code and read it carefully.

Then she read it again, and a third time just to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.

But to her surprise, there was no mention of dyed hair, only tattoos and piercings.

That almost made her want to go get some.

If Mary had an issue with her hair, Gwen would figure it out later.

She stuffed the employee handbook in her purse and frowned when she looked at the kitchen table again.

Gwen bit her lip, squirming at the memory it invoked.

She really didn’t want to get rid of her kitchen table because of a one time mistake.

A very pleasurable, but very bad, not good mistake.

That isn’t happening again, Gwen swore to herself.

Having sex with someone who was essentially her boss—Gwen flinched at even calling him that—was not a habit she wanted to get into.

Even if Gwen brushed aside that one-sided dynamic from the equation, having sex with a literal demon wasn’t on that list either.

And while she had never entertained the idea of fucking someone she hated before, Gwen knew that was another layer to the mess they had made together.

The last thing she wanted to do was talk about it, but Gwen knew she needed to clear the air with him.

Whenever he popped back up—something Gwen highly suspected would happen soon, whether she liked it or not—she would talk to him.

Straight to the point, no nonsense.

Besides, whatever that was is just a distraction, Gwen thought.

You gotta figure out what you want to do with that doll.

Ambrosius had told her to be good and finish the doll.

Gwen wasn’t entirely certain why, now that she thought about it.

He had said he needed a warlock—a monster to work for him.

After last night, Gwen had no doubt that she was a monster now—or maybe she had always been one.

It would explain why she could never manage relationships with people for very long.

Focus, Gwen, she thought as she pulled her work uniform out of the dryer.

The terms of their deal were mysterious to Gwen.

She was fairly certain there was more there than what Ambrosius had said, more than the corporate jargon in the scroll.

If his goal had been to simply make her a warlock, well, he had succeeded in that.

So why did he want her to finish the doll?

Was it something like a final signature on a contract that Gwen needed to sign?

Would it bind her to him for the rest of her life?

Thoughts swirled in her head as Gwen got dressed for work.

Her hand instinctively reached for the heavy cardigan, but Gwen paused.

It was supposed to be in the high eighties, and while Gwen was going to be inside, the bus had so-so AC.

Fuck it, Gwen thought.

Gwen shrugged on the ugly company polo, leaving the front unbuttoned.

Instead of the usual pants, she swapped them for a pair of canvas shorts, tucking her shirt in.

She checked her appearance with her phone.

Oh, good, I look like a summer camp counselor at best, and the start of a pinup story at worst. Gwen shook her head.

“Fuck it, they’re just tits. People can get over them,” Gwen said as she collected the rest of her things and exited her apartment.

When she locked the door, she spared a glance down the hall.

The neighbor across from her had two packages waiting, and would finally be able to open them.

Good for them.

Dr. Crawford had been Gwen’s dentist off and on for the last five years now.

His practice was clean—though not overly fancy.

It was part of what made him so affordable, considering her day job didn’t offer dental.

Ordinarily, Gwen would be disassociating as the dental assistant tied the pink bib around her neck, but Gwen was busy with something else.

The moment she had come into close contact with humans, Gwen had noticed those same strange sensations.

It took her a moment on the bus ride to realize she was feeling the sensation of lust from a man across the aisle from her.

The taste of acidic tomatoes and allspice had exploded on her tongue, and she felt her stomach turn.

Gwen had turned her head toward the man and stared until that flavor shifted to shame and he averted his gaze.

It was strange to feel emotions that weren’t her own.

If they didn’t taste like food, she imagined she would have a harder time realizing they weren’t hers.

The man on the bus hadn’t been the first to direct lust her way, but Gwen was surprised to find that it tasted different with another human.

Peanut buttercups, Gwen realized even as the dental hygienist scraped against her teeth.

If emotions were just as different and varied in flavor as humans were, that meant not every person would be suitable to eat.

Or at the very least, not taste good.

Gwen had practically gagged at the flavor of fresh tomatoes.

And how complicated would this become when Gwen had a craving?

What if she ate someone’s happiness and it tasted like candy and she could never have it again?

What if I want—

Gwen didn’t finish the thought as the smell of fresh caramel apples hit her nose.

“Hey, how are you doing today?”

Gwen blinked.

The dental hygienist that had been cleaning her teeth had gotten up, patting her on the shoulder.

Had Gwen really been that out of it?

She recognized the dental assistant perched to the side in front of a computer—she had been the one to fetch her from the waiting room.

But when had this new stranger shown up ?

Standing tall above her prone body was a white man, light skin, green eyes, and a friendly smile.

He had dark blond hair that was swept away from his face in a stylish manner.

Despite the dental garb, Gwen was pretty sure this man could have been a model.

“I—where’s Dr. Crawford?” Gwen blurted.

The man pulled one of the rolling chairs over with his foot, sitting next to Gwen’s hip.

“Dr. Crawford is on vacation. Took the family to Silverwood,” the man explained.

“I’m Dr. Monday and I’ll be checking your teeth today.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say Dr. Monday? ” Gwen asked incredulously.

Fuck politeness, I guess.

The man laughed, and for a moment, Gwen was reminded of her first meeting with Ambrosius.

She shook the feeling away.

“Yeah, I did,” he grinned.

“I know, makes me sound like some kind of villain from a superhero movie.”

“A little bit,” she chuckled.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about any villainy here,” Dr. Monday said, lifting a mask onto his face.

“The only enemy here is periodontitis. Now, I’m going to lean you back and get a look at your mouth, okay?”

Gwen nodded, and before she knew it, Dr. Monday was poking around her mouth.

He was a lot gentler than Dr. Crawford.

She wouldn’t think it was possible, as Dr. Crawford had always been very considerate whenever Gwen had come in with dental issues before.

“Hmm…”

Hmm? ‘Hmm’ what?

!

“Did you know that the gap between your front teeth is because you have a large frenum?” Dr. Monday asked.

What the fuck is that ?

At her wide-eyed stare, the dentist removed the mirrored instrument from her mouth.

“It’s a band of connective tissue. It essentially ties your lips to your gums. If you run your tongue along the roof of your mouth, you should feel that little line down the center.”

“Oh, is that what that is?” Gwen asked.

Dr. Monday nodded.

“Ordinarily, we’d offer you braces or some alternative to close that up,” he explained.

“Yeah, Dr. Crawford asked me about that,” Gwen replied.

“I thought about it but…”

“You don’t want it,” he concluded.

“No…” Gwen said slowly, as if realizing it for the first time.

“I don’t want it. I like my gap. I’ve always liked it but, well, y’know; people .”

He laughed, “Oh, I know people, and they can be a lot, but I’m glad to hear that. I don’t think braces or any alternatives are the way to go. If you’re happy with it, I’m happy with it. But I think we should get you a night guard. That gap will get wider as you get older, and the night guard will help with that. I also noticed some significant grinding on your right side. Have you been experiencing any sort of stress? Maybe work?”

“Yes,” she answered honestly.

“Quite a bit.”

“Well, hopefully the night guard will help,” Dr. Monday said.

“Otherwise, everything looks good. Just try and find a way to relax, okay?”

Gwen nodded.

She hated that her first thought was of Ambrosius.