A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 1)

That didn’t mean I would take it easy on him, though. For all intents and purposes, he was a guard. By rights, the prisoners were supposed to be at odds with their guards. For me, that meant lots of snarky put-downs. I hoped he was ready for it.

“You have the key, dipshit,” I called.

“I do?” His voice trailed away. “Oh. I see. It’s in the door. Wait…are you a prisoner? Why are you locked in?”

I raised my eyebrows and readied for a bandy of words, but…blank. His utter cluelessness made my mind go blank. He didn’t seem any more enlightened about the situation than I was.

“Are you dangerous?” he called. “Should I be worried? The master didn’t mention that I should be worried.”

Again, I wasn’t sure what to say.

“No?” I finally managed.

“You don’t sound sure. Look, I’m not good at fighting. That’s why I’m still alive. I’m a butler, for goddess’s sake! I look after people—kinda. I’m not much good at it. That’s also why I’m still alive, I think. There is safety in mediocrity. So if you’re all ragey, I’m just going to have to ask you to simmer down for a while. I’m not the bad guy here.”

A grin was pulling at my lips. Was this guy for real?

“I won’t hurt you,” I called.

“Are you sure? Now that I think of it, the master had a fresh wound. Did you give him that?”

“Yes, but he grabbed my throat. What was I supposed to do? And honestly, I don’t even remember doing it.”

“You don’t remember doing it?” Now his voice was rising. “What kind of a nutcase stabs a person and doesn’t remember doing it?”

“The kind who thinks they are going to die?”

A pause. Then, “Yes, okay. That makes sense, I guess. Fine, I’m coming in. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t stab or hurt me in any way. I was having a very nice time a moment ago and don’t want to ruin the buzz.”

I shuffled away from the door and resumed my stance against the far window. There I waited. Nothing happened.

“Are you coming?” I yelled.

“I was waiting for a confirmation!”

Metal tinkled, the key working within the lock. The oval knob turned slowly. Just as slowly, the door opened a crack, and a fuzzy purple head topped with two stuffed horns peered in. His eyes darted around until his gaze came to rest on me. He looked me up and down for a moment, settling on my empty hands. The door continued to open until the fuzzy purple monster stepped in.

I tried to hide more giggles and failed. I’d gone from real life and nightmares to a nightmare life lacking any sort of reality.

“Hello…” He stepped in a little farther, his hands up. “I’m not sober. Just so we’re clear.”

“I wish I weren’t sober. It’s nearly the same thing.”

He nodded and sidestepped to the little nightstand by the bed. Light flared from a match that he put to a candle in a silver holder. Only then did I really take in the room.

A huge four-poster bed with a canopy pushed against the wall, the curtains collected to the posters with tasseled ropes. Intricately carved wooden nightstands bracketed the bed, and a large double-door wardrobe across the room bore the same design. The overstuffed chair in the corner, nestled between the floor-to-ceiling windows covering the east and south side walls, looked worn in and incredibly comfortable for reading. It was clear the little table at its side was for holding books.

A beige rug spanned most of the floor, but the design was lost to the dim light. The walls were mostly bare except for one oil painting depicting a misshapen goat and a sliver of a moon. It was either a modern take on art or done by an amateur.

Hadriel picked up the candleholder, the candle half burned from previous use with dried wax dripping down the sides.

“So. Here we are.” He hiccupped and patted his chest then felt around a little. He dropped his head to look down. “Ah fuck.”

“What?” I asked, unable to help myself.

“I forgot I wore this tonight. Do you think the master noticed?”

“How…” I contained a laugh. “How could you possibly forget you wore that?”

He staggered back a couple of paces and braced his fingers on the nightstand. “Once that demon magic kicks in, you stop caring what you look like. All you want is to…”

He narrowed his eyes at me.

I put up my hands. “I’m not judging. I know the effect it has.”

He sagged. “Yeah. It’s a good time. A real good time. But then you wake up, and you just feel dirty, know what I mean? I’m wearing a furry demon costume, hoping to bang any wet hole I come across. I don’t even care who it belongs to or what body part it is, I just want to stick my dick in it. What am I, eighteen?”