Beautiful Nightmare

by Katee Robert

Demons don’t technically need to breathe . . . I don’t think? But I do breathe, and it seems important and no one has ever told me that I shouldn’t do it, so not breathing fills me with panic.

Normal demons don’t go through three freaking trainers before they land on one who takes pity on them and basically holds their hand through what should be as natural as breathing. Except, as evidenced by my constantly forgetting to do it, I’m not that great at breathing either.

Even Ralph doubts me. How could he not? Every single time I’ve tried to do this, even with his guidance, I’ve messed it up. I’m a terrible demon, and an even more terrible sleep paralysis demon. Sometimes I can’t even paralyze my humans. But I am proud of my form, even if it’s wildly different from Ralph’s.

My human—except he’s not mine, a demon should never be possessive of a human, not when they all belong to the gods, not to us. The only beings who get to be possessive are guardian angels, and no demon takes them seriously.

Fear is the damned point. Of course he should fear me.

Every muscle in his body looks carved from stone as he strains against my magic. I lick my lips. Wait, no. That’s not what I’m here for. Gods, my head is all turned around.

If I’ve always found fear to be a bit sour? Well, I might be a miserable disaster, but I’m smart enough to keep that to myself.

Stop it, Gemma. Stop thinking about stuff that doesn’t matter.

there’s no good reason I shouldn’t be able to feed myself in the job I was assigned.

No matter how strangely he’s looking at me, surely the worry about not being able to breathe will accomplish that surge of fear .

Anyone except, apparently, me. Because nowhere in the sleep paralysis demon manual was there a section containing “What to Do If Your Human Gets a Boner.”

He grunts, a surge of pure emotion pouring forth so quickly I have to rush to swallow it down. I’m already grimacing, expecting fear, but it’s . . . spicy? And a little sweet? Oh no. No, no, no, no.

He just orgasmed. When he was supposed to be scared. Because I really am that terrible at my job.

It’s not possible to die from mortification. I know, because I would perish on the spot.

demons love bureaucracy—and

I want to taste it again. I want to devour it in great, greedy gulps. The problem is that I’m supposed to scare him, and even if I wanted to turn him on, I don’t know how I did it in the 13first place. Surely I can’t re-create the experience? I definitely shouldn’t want to re-create the experience.

There’s heat in their green depths, the kind of heat that signifies exactly what happened last time. He’s not scared of me. He’s turned on.

“I asked you a question.” I dig frustrated hands into my long mane of purple hair. “You’re supposed to be terrified. A monster is in your room, holding you frozen, and threatening to suffocate you. Normal people would be terrified.”

I’ll scare you next time.” I start to turn away, but his soft voice stops me short. “Probably not.” “What do you mean probably not?”

I’m an embarrassment of a demon. I’ve been told as much my entire life.

I make the other demons uncomfortable and they avoid me. They look right through me.

And, forgive me if this is creepy, but you’re naked in my room, and the other night you were sitting on my chest while naked in my room. I had what I feel is a pretty normal reaction.”

“Okay,” he says easily. “Scare me.” If it were that easy, I would have done it by now.

I blink. Maybe I’m not the incompetent one here. Oh, I am incompetent—I can’t pretend otherwise—but this man clearly has no survival instinct.

I feel bad for scaring him. I feel guilty for lying to Ralph. Worst of all, I can’t get the appreciation in Caleb’s expression out of my mind. It’s the first time in my life someone has looked at me like I’m not a complete embarrassment.

A perverse part of me wants him to stare, wants to drink in the feeling of being seen.

Sorry, I’m wandering. I do that, which makes some people uncomfortable. I promise I’m not trying to make anyone uncomfortable. Especially you.

I understand if this has to be 21strictly a working relationship that gives me nightmares. Honestly, they’d be preferable to the recurring one I have about being dragged through the woods, and everyone I know standing by and watching silently

Demons are profoundly practical when it comes to failure.

surely Caleb must be gorgeous by any standards. I certainly can’t stop looking at him.

I shouldn’t be happy I can’t taste a single sour note coming from him.

His lips curve. He’s fully relaxed, not scared at all. It should represent a great failure on my part, but my chest goes strangely, pleasantly warm.

“You don’t like my fear?” He sounds almost hurt. “I don’t like any fear. It’s so sour and sticks in my throat.” Confessing that feels like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. It won’t make any difference, not when this is my last shot to continue to be part of demon society. If I fail here, I fail everything.

“Then we just need to figure out what emotion I can feed you.” His face flames and his lust surges, strong enough to make me warm, but he’s still very carefully not looking at me. “What are our options?” I’m embarrassed, he’s embarrassed, but curiosity overrides my desire to throw myself under the bed and hide for all eternity. “You already know lust is one.”

“Gemma.” He finally looks at me. He’s still blushing furiously, but he manages to hold my gaze. “I am absolutely on board with feeding you lust if that’s what you want. You’re beautiful and interesting, and the only side effect I noticed was being a little tired the next day. Whether that’s because you fed on my lust or because I stayed up the rest of the night, doing . . .” Against all logic, his blush deepens. “Anyway, I’m good with it if you are.”

I take a deep breath, inhaling Caleb’s building lust. He’s filled with it over the possibility of me. It’s staggering on several levels, all of which I’ll spend entirely too much time obsessing over once I’m home and alone. “Okay.”

“Gemma, wait.” He grabs my wrist again, still holding me almost gingerly. Not like I’m a monster he’s afraid will bite, but as if I’m made of glass and he worries about shattering me. It’s strange. I don’t know if I like it.

Everything about Caleb seems designed to bring my inadequacies to the forefront. I know better. It’s not him that’s the problem; it’s me. It’s always been me.

“I tried to blend in, but it’s so exhausting carving off bits of yourself so people around you will be more comfortable.”

Caleb’s curiosity truly is a delight. He’s smart too.

Does he realize how absolutely charming he is? Probably not, based on how awkward he’s suddenly become. I belatedly recognize that suggesting I sit on his chest probably had connotations I don’t fully understand, so I try for a compromise.

He keeps stroking my cheek, his lust growing in slow waves that make me dizzy.

He’s so warm and his heart is beating a frantic rhythm, as if it’s trying to get to me through his rib 31cage.

His kindness is a balm against a wound I hadn’t fully processed possessing. I don’t have to worry about acting normal with him. I can just be . . . me.

The combination of physical and emotional leaves me loose in a way I’ve never experienced, and I want more.

I don’t break the rules. I fail to follow them, but that failure has always made me sick to my stomach with the knowledge that I’ll never be good enough. This is intentional in a way I’ve never even considered attempting before meeting him. There will be a penance to pay, and I don’t care because it feels too good to stop.

“Gemma, baby, I need you not to say stuff like that while you’re dripping on my face. I want to make you come a few more times first. I’m not going to last long. Fuck, I almost came just from tasting you. I want you too desperately.”

“Oh, Caleb.” I whimper. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to get enough of you.” “Then don’t.” He tugs me back a bare inch and exhales harshly against my throbbing core.

his emotions. I didn’t know a demon could be drunk on emotions, but the faint light in the room spins merrily, and my skin practically crackles with the energy now filling me. For the first time since I was a child, I’m not hungry, not even a little.

His lust remains a delicious undercurrent, but soft satisfaction takes over. It’s not an emotion that can sustain me, but it creates a lovely sensation, like being wrapped in a heavy blanket during the cold season.