Song for the Dead (Ada Palomino 2)

Holy shit.

Demon.

Right?

I narrow my eyes at him. “Do I know you?”

“You’re going to,” he says, a malicious glint running through his overly dilated eyes. “You’re here all alone. I’ve been watching you.”

“Uh huh.”

“Think you need a man to show you the ropes.”

“The ropes of what, exactly?”

He moves closer to me, the movement making me realize I can’t escape easily. “Nowhere to go, sugar. You’re trapped with me.”

He grins at me and while his teeth aren’t shark’s teeth, they are sharp and misshapen.

“Are you a demon?” I ask him.

He jerks his head back and frowns. “Demon?”

“I take that as a no,” I say. Then I wind up and clock him right in the face, my fist connecting with his jaw, and that extra boost of energy from me is just the chef’s kiss. He goes stumbling back a few feet until he’s on the ground.

He cries out in pathetic pain, holding his jaw. Some people around us gasp or laugh and then go back to dancing.

I turn around and see Max standing right behind me, brows raised, looking impressed.

“You were just going to stand there?” I say to him.

“I knew you could handle yourself,” he says, adding a smile.

I cross my arms. “Not the jealous type, then.”

He shrugs with one shoulder. “If you had been into him, it would be a different story.” He nods toward the exit. “Honestly, I think we should leave. The chances of finding them here isn’t great, and the chances of you punching some other dick in the face is.”

I nod and follow him out of the concert, grabbing the back of his shirt as he leads me out of the crowd and the music and the drugs and back onto the dirt road leading back to the car.

The further away we get from it, the more the music fades, the more it seems like a crazy idea in the first place.

“Sorry I dragged you to a rave,” I tell him.

“Would you believe me if I said I had fun?” he asks.

I bite my lip. “Oh yeah? Which part?”

He stares at my mouth for a moment, long enough for me to know which part.

“So, what do we do about the demons?” I ask him as we walk. “They’re in the crowd there, probably high on E.”

“We just have to let them go. There’s gonna be a lot of that.”

“So they really didn’t bother with us.”

“Guess not.”

I pause, sucking on my lip. “Are you going to have to kiss me every time they’re near?”

A beat passes. “I think it’s a good idea, don’t you?”

I’m so glad it’s dark right now so he can’t see the absolutely stupid grin I have on my face.

Fourteen

“Like keys and dreams and old tattoos, with one quick twist,

love turns to scar.”

– Hideaway

Fortunately, we don’t come across any more demons on the way to the Airbnb in Yucca Valley.

Unfortunately, that means Max has had no excuse to kiss me. I’m starting to think that this whole thing is one big joke to him, that whatever demon lady said about his feelings for me aren’t what I think they are. Or hope they are. Just has me on a wild-goose chase, looking at Max in a new light, trying to figure him out, figure us out.

I mean, yeah, I know he’s fond of me. He likes me as a person. I asked him that, as one does. Even if he just thinks of me as his friend’s little sister, maybe that’s enough to complicate things. Maybe he’s not supposed to have any attachments to people at all.

But the thing is, we’re bound together, so that pushes our relationship to the next level. As casual as things between us seem to be, it’s also not. I’m always aware, even if just in the back of my brain, that there’s a lot riding on the two of us being together. It’s a life-or-death situation here, and I’m the one in control.

Which has put a lot of pressure on me, even if it doesn’t feel like it at times. I’m in charge of his life and that’s…a lot. It’s a lot to handle and come to terms with. Maybe that’s what’s twisting my own feelings for Max, making them more than they should be. Maybe I have a misplaced sense of duty to him. Maybe I’m as dependent on him as he is on me.

Or maybe it’s just fucking nice to be needed for once.

Honestly, there’s only one way to settle this.

I need to sleep with him.

Literally need to have sex with him.

If he can fuck as good as he kisses, then that’s all I need to know where I stand and where he stands too.

Don’t you think that will complicate things? the voice in my head pipes up.

But it’s already fucking complicated, no matter what I do.