“I have to eat,” I say. “And I really want a milkshake. And Cheerios, for some reason. Oh, maybe that’s my first weird craving. Though it’s not really weird.” I shrug. “We can continue our talk about Lucifer and demons as we eat. And if you don’t get your butts in gear and come with me, I won’t be ashamed to pull the pregnancy card. You don’t want my blood sugar dropping, do you?”
I’m fairly certain I’ve had perfect blood sugar my whole life, surprising since I drink a shit ton of sweet wine and have a bad habit of skipping meals when I’m busy fighting demons.
“You do need to eat,” Julian slowly agrees. “And I don’t think the demons who may or may not have followed will attack in a crowded venue. They’ve spent the last few centuries hiding in one of the less favorable circles of Hell.”
“There are worse circles than others?” I take a step toward the Range Rover. “The more ya know.”
I get in the passenger seat. Lucas speeds around to the other side, and Julian climbs in the back next to Eliza. “Seatbelts,” I say when I realize I’m the only one who pulled mine over my body. “Stop showing off your immortality.”
I say it as a joke, but my word are rather sobering. Because out of the four of us in the car, I’m the only one who can’t heal. Who still ages. I’m the only one with a legitimate expiration date.
But I’m also the only one who could be the devil’s worst nightmare.Chapter 9“Oh my god,” I moan, tipping my head back and closing my eyes. “So fucking good.”
“Do you and your fries need to get a fucking room?”
I open my eyes to see Eliza staring at me with one eyebrow raised.
“As a matter of fact, I’d like that,” I snap and pick up another French fry, dipping it in my vanilla milkshake. I stop right before I put the fry in my mouth and pick up the salt shaker, covering my milkshake-covered fry in salt.
“I don’t eat, but even I know that’s just wrong.” Eliza slowly shakes her head. “And disgusting.”
“It’s so good,” I say, stuffing the fry in my mouth.
“I think it’s safe to say this is your first weird craving,” Lucas says, unable to keep the smile off his face. He’s so excited to be a father, to enjoy every single part of pregnancy—from the outside looking in, that is.
“Imagine every time you drank any blood, you either threw it back up or felt like you were right on the verge of puking,” I tell Eliza as I put more salt on my fries. “And on top of that, you couldn’t drink the type of blood you drink when you’re stressed.” I dip another salty fry in my milkshake.
“And then you could finally eat again.”
“I’m not following this analogy,” Eliza says.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter.” My eyes light up when the waitress brings over the chicken tenders I wanted once I saw someone else get them two tables over. I’m going to come out of this pregnancy a hundred pounds heavier…if I come out of it at all.
“Thank you,” I tell the waitress, who nervously eyes Lucas, Julian, and Eliza. Lucas, with his insane good looks and overall intimidating air, is an obvious vampire. Eliza is so perfectly pretty you might mistake her for a fairy princess, though it’s safe to say most nons don’t believe in fairies.
Julian, though…I have no idea what you’d classify him as.
He breathes, chest rising and falling. He has color in his cheeks and looks alive, much more so than Eliza or Lucas. Yet he’s sitting here with us, no food or drink in front of him, and has this aloofness that is honestly just confusing.
“And that’s all for this table?” the waitress asks, trying to figure out exactly who she’s serving.
“I think I’m good, thank you,” I say.
“For now,” Eliza huffs under her breath.
“Okay.” The waitress smiles, eyes lingering on Julian, and then walks away.
“She’s praying you don’t get eaten tonight,” Julian says, able to hear the waitress's prayers.
“She’s not wrong about you getting eaten tonight,” Lucas says. “Again.”
I just shake my head and pick up a chicken tender, tearing it in half so it’ll cool faster and I can eat it.
“And he thinks you’re in a weird sex-cult with three vampires and is worried about your soul and thinks you’ve damned yourself to Hell,” Julian goes on. “The understanding of what sends someone to Heaven or Hell has become lost on so many humans.”
“Tell that to some of these holy rollers,” I grumble, getting too impatient to wait for my chicken tender to cool. I dip it in barbecue sauce and take a bite. It’s hot but tastes so good. “If I knew pregnancy would make food this much more enjoyable, I would have cursed you myself like the day after we met.”