13. Dani

“You put on her ring?”

I roll my eyes. “Rose, you told me to!”

I don't even know why I listened to her in the first place. 'Like Cinderella with the glass slipper'? More like Beauty bound to the freaking Beast! Only this fairytale doesn't involve an enchanted rose or a happy ending as far as I can tell, just a hot-headed demon with a bad temper and a magic ring.

“Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually do it! I mean, who does that?” The blonde leans forward, grabbing my hand between hers and turning it from side to side, seemingly oblivious to my glare. “So now it's stuck, huh?”

I nod.

“Like, stuck stuck?”

Again, I nod.

“Well, that sucks. You think she'll be pissed if she finds out?”

You have no idea. I shrug, watching as the overhead light from the break room glistens off the silver band. “Probably. I mean, wouldn't you be?”

True to my word, I hadn't mentioned to Rose how Ashe had mysteriously shown up in my apartment shortly after she left, or that the redhead was actually a demon and I was now soulbound to her. I still wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but for most of the morning I vowed not to think about it.

That was easier said than done, though. I had hoped that work would take my mind off of the entire situation but as hard as I tried I couldn't get thoughts of last night out of my head. After what felt like the hundredth time of catching myself thinking about Ashe and then hastily looking around for any signs of silver smoke in the café, I eventually realized that thoughts of her alone weren't enough to 'summon' her. Still, I wasn't about to push the envelope by saying her name out loud or hoping to see her again. I'm not Aladdin and I sure as hell don't want to find out which kind of genie Ashe was.

None of it was doing anything to help deflate the ball of anxiety bouncing around in the pit of my stomach, though.

“Have you tried using butter?” Rose asks, breaking through my thoughts like a wrecking ball. “Or bolt cutters?”

My nostrils flare as I let out an exasperated sigh. Leave it to Rose to crack jokes at my expense. “I've tried everything, even the damn string trick. Nothing works.”

“Well, you haven't tried everything.” Rose purses her lips, doing her best to conjure a look of serious contemplation; it does little to hide the laughter twinkling behind her blue eyes. She pinches my ring finger between her thumb and forefinger and wiggles the digit. “How attached are you to this finger?”

I quickly withdraw my hand, half expecting her to whip out a butcher's knife from the pocket of her apron. “I'm not cutting it off, you savage!”

“Then I guess it stays stuck.” The blonde shrugs as a playful smirk returns to her lips. “Kind of hard to catch a fish when you're wearing the bait, though.”

Oh great, more fishing jokes.

An exaggerated grunt is the best reply I can muster before David pokes his head around the corner. “Ladies, break's over! We have customers!”

“Like anyone's even up this early on a Saturday.”

David quirks a brow and stares at her as if she just told him that two plus two equals five. “It's noon, Rosalie.”

She cranes her neck to peek inside the café and snorts. “And yet they still aren't knocking down the door for a cup of coffee, are they?”

“Then you won't mind grinding the beans since we're so dead.”

I bite back a laugh as Rose's face scrunches into a scowl. Grinding coffee beans was her least favorite task and David often delegated it as a means of torture for when the blonde was feeling unmotivated. Which, honestly, seemed to be most days.

“It sounds like someone's already been grinding your beans,” Rose mutters, and this time I can't stop a chuckle from escaping.

How David even put up with Rose's behavior on days like this was beyond me, but she's worked here longer than I have and their banter was almost always entertaining. And, despite her objections and lackadaisical work ethic, she was actually a really good barista.

“And you.” David's narrowed gaze shifts in my direction. “Restock the condiment bar after you finish making these orders.”

Dammit! How did I end up in the line of fire?

A groan rattles in my throat. If grinding beans was Rose's bane at work, then refilling the various toppings at the condiment bar was definitely mine. No matter how steady my hand was, I always somehow managed to get cinnamon and sugar everywhere.

“Why am I being punished? I didn't even say anything!”

“You aren't doing anything, either.” David adjusts his glasses as his eyes flick between us. “I'm not paying you girls to sit around and gossip all day and our customers aren't paying us to wait.”

“Have you considered switching to decaf?” Rose huffs. “You could really use a de-stressor.”

“Remind me why I keep scheduling you two to work together?”

“Because we're the only baristas you have that are worth a damn?”

“Now, Rosalie.”

Rose rolls her eyes as David disappears into the kitchen. “It's not like we're that busy,” she grumbles as she pushes herself to her feet.

“Maybe,” I shrug, following her lead. “But he seems pretty upset. We should probably get back to work.” David was pretty lenient compared to some of the other bosses I've had, but I wasn't too keen on pushing his buttons. Some people can only be pushed so far before they decide to push back.

Rose, on the other hand, seemed to get a thrill out of pushing people's buttons. She's always been so self-assertive but sometimes I was afraid that one day she would push the wrong ones.

The blonde grumbles again as she grabs a bag of beans from the shelf and makes her way to the grinder, leaving me alone to prepare the coffee. This was going to be a long day.

***

As the foot traffic in the café started to dwindle, a sign that the day was drawing to a close, the knot in my stomach slowly rolled its way up to my chest. It was an ugly feeling, an uncertainty that prickled my skin and tugged at the back of my mind like a nagging reminder of the inevitable. I'm going to have to see her again.

I don't know if I'm prepared for that, or for whatever it is she wants to discuss. But I still had so many questions and I needed answers. Hell, after how she acted last night I think I deserve answers! Demons exist, they actually exist, and I was somehow bound to one! How could something like this—like her—go unnoticed for so long? Were there others out there like her? Why can't she hurt me? And if there's a way to unbind us from whatever this ring is that doesn't involve my untimely death, then I'd very much like to know about that, too.

I lock the front door just as our last customer of the night leaves.

“So,” Rose says as she wipes down the counter. “Guess where he's taking me tonight.”

I stare at her for a moment, focusing on the way her hands glide over the surface as I struggle to control the barrage of panicked thoughts tumbling around in my brain. Distraction, yes. Distraction is good, and Rose is great at distractions.

But where's who taking—oh. Oh! “Your date?”

“Did you forget already?”

Yes. “No.” I'm a terrible liar.

Rose narrows her eyes, unconvinced. “I literally told you about this yesterday. How could you forget?”

Because a lot has happened since then? It's not every day that you find yourself bonded to a demon. And it's only been one day. Jesus, was this how it was going to be every day for the rest of my life? Constantly worrying that I'll summon her, expose her secret, get myself killed?

“Sorry, Rose,” I sigh. “I didn't really get much sleep last night.” Not to mention this lingering sense of dread that I can't seem to shake.

Ashe already said that she can't hurt me and, despite every possible indication screaming at me like a three-ring fire alarm that she was more than capable of doing some serious damage if she wanted to, I genuinely believe that she won't. So why do I feel like something bad is going to happen?

“More dreams?”

More like a living nightmare.

I only nod as my chest tightens even more. I really wish I could tell my best friend about Ashe, confide in her and unload this burden. Keeping this a secret is definitely not helping with my anxiety.

“Do you need me to stay with you tonight?” Concern is laced in her voice as her bright blue eyes search my own and I suddenly feel like I'm under a microscope. Can she see the panic that's slowly taking hold of my mind? Would it really be so bad if she knew? “I can postpone my date if you'd like.”

That would actually make me feel so much better.

Instead, I shake my head. I can't ask her to do that for me, and I doubt Ashe's promise to not hurt me extends to Rose. I won't let her endanger herself for my apparent crime. There's no telling what Ashe would say—or what she would do.

“No, it's fine.” I give her my best smile, in need of another distraction. “Where's your mystery man taking you?”

Rose returns my smile, although the worry is still present in her face. “Maestro's Steakhouse. You know, that fancy place downtown?”

I hum as I put away the last of the mugs and silverware from the day. “That's an expensive first date for someone who doesn't have any expectations.”

The blonde merely shrugs as we grab our things, set the alarm and exit through the back. David had left a few hours earlier and, even though his wife would be in soon to balance the books and check inventory, he was often paranoid about security.

“The last guy I dated was vegan. I need meat in my life, Dani, juicy red meat. Besides, it was his idea. What kind of date would I be if I said no?”

I roll my eyes at her candor even as a laugh rumbles in my throat. “Please tell me you at least have your—”

As if reading my mind, Rose opens her purse and pulls out a purple rectangular object. “My stun gun?” She flips the switch and gives the trigger a little squeeze. I nearly jump out of my skin at the loud buzzing sound as a small arc of electricity snaps between the electrodes. “Yep,” she giggles. “I have it.”

“Cute.” I hate it when she does that.

“Relax, Dani girl, I'll be fine.” She unlocks her car and puts her purse in the back seat, then turns to offer me a grin. “Do you need me to give you a lift?”

“Nah, I think I'll walk. It's a nice night and I could use some fresh air.” And I didn't want her to be there if Ashe actually did show up. I wasn't exactly prepared on how I would explain that to her just yet.

“Alright, hun. I'll text you when I get home later.”

“You better.” I pull her in for a hug and nearly gasp at how cold her skin feels against mine. It's like hugging an ice sculpture, despite the humidity that clung to the air around us, and as a pair of blood-red eyes and gleaming fangs flash in my mind, invading my thoughts and standing my hairs on end, my chest constricts and I hold her closer.

“Please text me, no matter what time it is.” My words sound rushed, like a whisper against the wind, and my lungs burn as I fight to regain the breath that was squeezed from my body. Why the hell do I feel like this? “Promise?”

Her head bobs against my shoulder and, reluctantly, I let her go. Once more there was a hint of concern swimming in her eyes. “Are you sure you don't need me to stay with you? You aren't having another episode or anything, are you?”

It's been a long time since I've had a panic attack, but this wasn't the same. I couldn't explain it even if I tried, but it felt different somehow. Maybe it was just my nerves.

I take a slow, steadying breath as I swallow down a lump and shove these thoughts to the darker recesses of my brain. I'll have to unpack whatever the hell that was later on. But I wasn't about to ruin Rose's first date in weeks, even if I still didn't like the guy's vibe. It wouldn't be right of me to deflect my own fears onto her romantic endeavors.

It takes me another moment before I feel composed enough to speak without my voice quaking and I offer her what I hope is a convincing smile. “I just need some sleep. Enjoy your date, hun.”

***

My anxiety hasn't eased up at all by the time my apartment complex comes into view. If anything, the ball in my stomach seems to have expanded tenfold during my walk home, growing with each uneasy step until I was standing right outside my building with what felt like a bowling ball in my gut.

I did tell Ashe that I got out of work at eight o'clock. It was a quarter to nine now and I haven't seen so much as a wisp of fiery red hair. Was she just supposed to show up in my apartment again? Am I supposed to summon her? Maybe she forgot—or last night really was just some strange, surreal dream and I'm freaking out over nothing.

It wouldn't be the first time that my mind's run wild.

I reach out to open the door when a hand wraps around my wrist and jerks me around the corner with such force I wouldn't be surprised if my shoulder was popped out of socket. “What the—!”

“You said eight,” a familiar voice snaps as the pressure on my arm is released. “What the hell took you so long?” She does not sound happy. Was she waiting out here this whole time?

I carefully rotate my wrist, ensuring that nothing was sprained or broken, before turning to meet her burning glare. “You can't just yank people like that, Ashe!” I hiss, determined to maintain my composure despite the thumping in my chest and the heat flushing my cheeks. She's standing so close.

The redhead huffs and raises a hand to her face, and it's only then that I notice the cigarette pinched between her fingers. She smokes? Oh, that's a nasty habit.

“I thought—” She pauses to take a drag and slowly exhales, pivoting her head so the smoke doesn't invade my space. That was thoughtful, at least. “Nevermind, it doesn't matter.” She flicks the butt away and motions to the sleek black motorcycle parked behind her. “We don't have much time.”

My eyes widen as I glance between her and her bike, and it suddenly occurs to me that the image I had built up in my mind over the last six months of what I pictured her to be like outside the small café doesn't hold a candle to the person I'm quickly getting to know.

She drives a motorcycle. She has tattoos. She's a hot-blooded, redheaded, half-demon lesbian who's now hitched to me by some strange magic. She's simultaneously my mother's worst nightmare and the poster girl of my wildest fantasies.

“That's so hot.”

Crap! I really need to stop thinking out loud!

And I really need to quit having these kinds of thoughts about Ashe, who is a demon. A demon who mistakenly saved my life and may or may not have me killed to get her ring back. I can't keep pushing these facts aside, burying them beneath goosebumps and butterflies and whatever this weird gut feeling is. I may have known of her over these last six months, observing her from behind the safety of a counter and daydreaming about what a day in her life could be like, but I didn't truly know her. Would I even like the person she really is?

“Get on.”

I blink at the motorcycle helmet in her outstretched hand. “Why?”

Before I can protest, Ashe slips the helmet on to my head and swings a leg over the bike. “You can't stay here tonight,” she replies as she turns on the engine.

I flip up the visor. “What the hell does that mean?” Am I in some kind of danger now? “Where are we—”

“Just shut up and get on.” She doesn't look at me.

“No,” I say, crossing my arms. “Not until you tell me where we're going.” Soulbound or not, I wasn't about to climb onto the back of Ashe's bike and be whisked away to God knows where. I wasn't crazy.

With what sounds like an agitated grunt, the redhead finally snaps her head up. Her hazel eyes bore into mine as she says with lethal calm, “I won't ask again.”

I knew in my gut that she meant it. She doesn't like repeating herself.

I glance back at the building, my stomach in knots as a small voice in the back of my mind assures me that she's right. You don't want to stay here.

My intuition hasn't ever steered me wrong before—when I actually listen to it, that is.

Hesitantly, I sling my leg over the back and wrap my arms around her waist. Her muscles tense at my touch and my heart flips into overdrive. Dear God, what am I doing? Am I crazy? This goes against every rational thought screaming at me to listen from the saner parts of my brain!

Her vanilla perfume tickles my nose and the leather of her jacket is cool against my heated skin, and suddenly we're back on that dance floor. I'm safe with her. It doesn't make a lick of sense, but I feel it in my bones.

One night out wouldn't hurt. Right?

With a resigned sigh I lower the visor. “If I go with you,” I mumble into her back, “will you answer my questions?”

Ashe revs the engine, offering me a curt nod before taking off. As the bike roars into the night like a chariot charging into battle, I can't help but wonder what exactly it is I've gotten myself into.

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A/N: Boy, this discovery writing is taking interesting turns. I'll admit, the ending of this chapter surprised even me! Who knew Dani was so trusting? Perhaps there's more to her intuition than even she knows? :)

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