Chapter Five

∞Chapter Five∞

 

Megan blinked. The sun was glaring in her eyes, making her squint to try to make out anything in the room around her.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but things seemed off somehow. She could have sworn she had closed the curtains when she got dressed for bed the night before. And surely she should have been up long before the sun got so bright, right? Looking at the clock, she realized she had overslept by an hour. How did that happen?

Stifling a yawn, Megan realized she could smell something wafting in from the rest of the apartment beyond her bedroom door. Quickly sniffing the air, she determined it didn’t smell like smoke. On the contrary, the smells were making her mouth water. There was the distinct smell of her coffee brewing, and mmm - bacon, and something else she wouldn’t identify.

But who was in the house?

After draping her robe around her shoulders, Megan grabbed her cell, hitting 9-1-1 and was ready to hit send at a moment’s notice.

Easing the bedroom door open, she paused and listened. Coming from the kitchen she could hear a sizzling sound coming off the frying pan and a low humming. The tone was definitely male. But who?

Son of a b***h! Megan thought as she peered around the corner and saw Jeremiah putzing around her kitchen.

With her hands on her hips, Megan stormed into the kitchen. The moment she saw Jeremiah’s wide-eyes surprise, it was hard to keep the angry glare on her face. She just wanted to laugh at the man’s confusion and attempt to make her breakfast. He may be, who knows how old, but at the moment, he reminded her of a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Morning beautiful,” Jeremiah murmured into Megan’s ear as he pushed a mug of warm coffee into her hand.

A few strands of her hair danced around his nose, teasing. Breathing her in, he let out a sigh of contentment.

Suddenly jerking back, Jeremiah stared at Megan in wide-eyed horror.

The look made her blood run cold, wondering what had suddenly changed his mood.

“What?” she croaked, taking a sip of the coffee, hoping to warm herself back up.

Jeremiah just shook his head.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. “You know,” he started, staring off into space, leaving Megan wondering what it was he was thinking of, “you really should stay away from me.” His eyes looked weary and earnest.

But it wasn’t nothing, and they both knew it. Only Megan wasn’t sure what it meant.

“I know,” she said with a laugh. “But you’re the one who keeps showing up at my doorstep!”

Confusion and pain clouded Jeremiah’s eyes for a few moments of unguarded vulnerability. Whatever it was, Megan suddenly wished that she could make it go away.

She didn’t like when he was melancholy. Jeremiah was supposed to be danger, and sex appeal �" at large and in charge.

After a few moments though, he seemed to shrug off whatever dark cloud was hanging over him.

Trying to lighten the mood further, Megan stepped deeper into the kitchen and popped a piece of bacon into her mouth with a smile on her face. She chewed dutifully.

Actually it was pretty good!

Grinning, Jeremiah sauntered over to Megan. The look in his eyes had Megan thinking she looked like prey to him. But she wasn’t scared; instead she grinned back as though accepting some unspoken challenge.

Curling his arm around Megan’s waist, he pulled her closer. The small gasp that escaped her lips made him let out a low growl. Swiftly he bent his head and licked the corner of her mouth.

“Mmm, tasty,” he replied, as he suddenly let her go and walked to the counter, plopping a few pieced of bread into the toaster.

Tasty? What was tasty? Her?

Damn.

Turning to put the eggs on, Jeremiah caught sight of Megan’s scowl. He wondered if she was scowling because he touched her, or if it was because he let go Suppressing a laugh that was more at himself than the vixen next to him, he continued to make her breakfast.

Finally, Megan turned and walked with her coffee to the chair at the counter. There was a glass of orange juice and a bowl of fruit there awaiting her arrival. With a sigh, she sat down and started to pick at the fruit.

She hadn’t taken him for the domesticated type, and she smiled. No one had ever made her breakfast like this before, except maybe her mom. Wistfully, she wished that the first time a guy was going all out and making her breakfast that it wasn’t some sort of deal-making-for-the-devil-type-demon doing it

“Why are you doing this?” Megan asked suddenly, surprising even herself.

“You eat breakfast, don’t you?” Jeremiah asked, perplexed. “Last I checked, people did that.”

Megan swallowed hard. People did that. He was only furthering Megan’s confusion. Jeremiah wasn’t a person, he was a demon. Not just a demon, but the one who made a deal with her for her soul. Last she checked, breakfast wasn’t a part of their terms, and she told him so.

With eyes flashing red and then quickly turning as dark as night, Jeremiah glared at Megan from across the kitchen.

He wondered why she had to be so... so… just so!

Megan just wondered what sort of game he was playing. He already had her soul, what more could he want?

Running a hand through his hair, Jeremiah wondered why he ever thought this was a good idea. She was human, and he clearly wasn’t. What did he expect?

Did he really think he could show up a few times, be charming, and she’d swoon at his feet while professing her undying love?

Snorting, he quickly put the breakfast he made her on a plate and shoved it on the counter.

Megan stared with her mouth open, as he walked away.

Was he leaving?

Damn.

“Wait!” Mega called, but it was too late, no one was there.

Double damn.

Sitting there, Megan stared at her plate. She was so confused and torn. She wished she could talk to Anya about this.

Not knowing what else to do, Megan began picking at the breakfast laid out before her. As she chewed a piece of perfectly crunchy bacon, a tear rolled down her cheek.

***

A few hours later, Megan was curled under a blanket on the couch, throwing herself a pity part. She had shed a few tears at breakfast and then scolded herself.

She was so confused. Megan felt like she couldn’t even identify the emotions she was feeling. There was such a mix of anger, confusion, revulsion, and something much more primal fighting to the surface.

Trying to tell herself it was just lust �" which she continued to chastise herself for �" lusting after a demon �" she decided to shower and do her best to continue about her day as normal.

But the day wasn’t normal. The man-demon- had made her breakfast. He continually popped up and injected himself into her life �" she refused to say heart.

The reaction he had on her made her furious! He was supposed to cure Anya and get the hell out of her life! Instead, Anya was still sick and Jeremiah was still hanging around.

So now, she was sitting on the couch feeling sorry for herself. She didn’t understand why the first person who made her feel like this was a soulless demon.

Maybe it was part of his deal-making charm, or whatever; something they used to lure people to them and make their deals

The notion made her furious. But now the rage was a good thing. At that moment it was all focused where it should be, at Jeremiah Cason.

Seething, Megan flew back the blanket and turned off the television. Dressed in her light gray sweats and white t-shirt, she stomped towards the door, pausing only to grab the keys and put her shoes on.

Once in her car, she sped through the city streets and made her way to the hospital.

Who the hell did he think he was?

OK, so maybe he was a demon who made deals for the devil, goddess, or whatever. He still didn’t have the right to jerk her around!

Ignoring the looks she was getting, she continued to march through the corridors until she reached an area that required keycard access.

Brining her anger under control, Megan schooled her features and tried to act like she belonged so that no one would stop her from following through the doors. Thankfully, everyone seemed too preoccupied to be worried about her.

It didn’t take long for Megan to find herself at the door Jeremiah had led her to the other day. Standing there, she let out a few quick breaths before she raised her hand to knock.

Before she knew what was happening, the door opened with her fist landing on a very solid chest.

Shocked, she looked up into Jeremiah’s equally shocked face.

“What are you doing here?” He asked quietly.

Suddenly, Megan was having trouble remembering why she was there. She knew she was supposed o be mad, yet she only felt a yearning need for the man in front of her.

All she could do was stare at him like a dumbstruck teenager. She had no idea what she was doing �" only that it was wrong.

Why was it wrong again?

Then it dawned on her.

“You,” she said, pushing her finger into his chest, leading him back into the office.

His eyes went wide as he stepped back, allowing her room to ender and shut the door.

“You cure her, right now,” Megan demanded.

A faint smile crossed Jeremiah’s lips as he regarded her.

Sliding over to his desk, he leaned against it in a way that he was half sitting on the corner closest to the door.

“Go to dinner with me,” was his only reply, as he braced himself for her reaction.

This could go one of two ways, and he hoped his idea didn’t backfire.

Backfire? his subconscious said, snickering. Dude, backfiring s a best case scenario.

Logically, Jeremiah knew this was true. Nothing good could come out of this. He already had his deal. He should move on while still could, just like Rufus told him to.

But therein lies the problem.

Jeremiah didn’t want to move on. He didn’t know how it could possibly work. A conventional relationship was beyond the scope of reality; their deal guaranteed that.

After seven years would he be able to let her go?

Hell no!

He couldn’t let her go after days.

But, she still hadn’t answered his present question. Maybe it was a good thing; she could be considering his request.

Then suddenly he felt his heart crumble as she started laughing uncontrollably. There were tears streaming down her face and Jeremiah had to fight the urge to lick them off her soft flesh - or strangle him for leaving him so undone and being this callous. But in a way, he supposed, he deserved it.

In that moment, Jeremiah was certain if he could, that he’d also have tears flowing from his eyes. The only difference would be that his tears would be ones of despair.

Something must have been given away on his face because as soon as she looked up at him, she became abruptly silent.

That was almost worse than her laughter. He liked the sound of her laugh and wished he could spend the rest of eternity making that sweet music escape from her lips. Instead, he got the deafening pity silence, now.

“Why?” she asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Why not?” he retorted with a shrug. “I need to know more about Anya and you need to eat.”

It was such matter-of-fact logic that Megan didn’t know how to argue.

“Fine,” she snapped, although inside she felt like doing a victory cheer.

“We can go now if you’d like,” Jeremiah said, looking pleased with himself. “Where would you like to go?”

“Um…,” Megan started, blanking. “There’s a new place downtown, on Center Street �"“

“Carmazzio’s?” Jeremiah asked, lighting up.

Warily, Megan nodded. Jeremiah’s enthusiasm could be infectious and she worried he would knock down all her defenses �" again.

Grinning, Jeremiah held out his arm in a gentlemanly fashion for Megan to take. Shaking her head, Megan moved to the door in an attempt to avoid his charm. But Jeremiah refused to budge.

Rolling her eyes, Megan begrudgingly took his arm and let him lead the way.

“Stop grinning!” she demanded as they left the office.

Jeremiah’s only response was a smirk. The entire walk to his car in the parking garage, he looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.

IT was infuriating.

But also confusing. Megan wasn’t sure why he looked so smug.

Because you’re a fool who he has eating out of the palm of his hand, dumbass!

With a sigh, Megan looked away, trusting Jeremiah would steer her around any obstacles.

The stop was unexpected and Megan nearly tripped over her own two feet as she tried to continue forward but was met with resistance.

Scowling, Megan glared at him, until she saw the silver Porsche convertible they were standing next to.

Snickering at her awe-struck expression, Jeremiah seized the moment for a chaste stolen kiss from her lips.

“Stop scowling,” he admonished. “You’re too beautiful for that.”

Blushing, Megan made herself busy by brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Are we going, or what?” she asked, fighting the urge to both smile and scowl.

Laughing, Jeremiah strode past Megan and opened her door.

A few minutes later, Megan looked down and realized she was still in her pity party outfit.

Damn.

She suddenly felt uncomfortable.

What was Carmazzio’s like? Was it a nice, fancy place?

Megan tried to remember what she had heard, but couldn’t remember.

She began to feel uneasy. Jeremiah was dressed in slacks, a dress shirt, and a tie. They were going to pull up in a Porsche. Yet she was wearing sweats and a t-shirt!

Sensing the tension, Jeremiah asked what was wrong.

Shifting uncomfortably, Megan muttered, “I feel like I’m going to be totally underdressed for this place.”

Barking out a laugh, Jeremiah replied, “Baby, trust me, you’re overdressed.” There was a glint in his eyes as they flashed red and drank in the sight of her.

Megan let out a soft silent gasp as her stomach tightened.

Don’t let him charm you! She reminded herself. It’s all just tricks.

Pointedly ignoring him, Megan continued to just stare out her window until Jeremiah pulled up to the door, and the valet immediately opened her door.

The look on the valet’s face was almost made Megan let out a laugh. Jeremiah however, let out a cough into his hand; glancing back at him, Megan thought it was a tactic to hide his own laugh.

Ma-ma’am,” the man stammered, flushing.

“Dr. Carson,” the attendant said, apologetically as he handed Jeremiah the valet ticket.

So, Jeremiah frequented Carmazzio’s? Megan found that interesting. Did he bring dates here, or the people he made deals with?

Scowling, Megan walked towards the door, which was being held open by a doorman who looked no more than sixteen or seventeen.

Jeremiah couldn’t help but grin. This woman �" this mortal �" she was so infuriating, and stubborn. He found it strangely sexy. And he didn’t like the way either of these men were looking at Megan. She was his!

Time for a little show.

Strutting up to Megan, he pulled her close and nuzzled her neck. She tried to pull away, but his vice like grip held her in place.

After a few moments of burying himself in her scent, Jeremiah began to feel quite heady. Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea after all.

But her smell, the sweetness, it was addicting. How could any man �" mortal or otherwise �" resist such temptation? The aroma of her essence mixed with the faint tendrils of chocolate and gardenias was exhilarating.

He wanted to pour himself into her while devouring her very being.

Startled, Jeremiah distanced himself slightly from Megan.

Megan frowned, though she wasn’t sure why. The distance should have been welcome, instead of making a tiny piece of her heart flake off at the slight rejection.

Maybe she smelled? Not expecting to go anywhere, she hadn’t showered that morning. Tying to be inconspicuous, she leaned her dead down and gave a little sniff.

Thinking she smelled fine, Megan shrugged.

When they entered, Megan thought she had entered a grand ballroom rather than a restaurant. The place was painted gold and silver with artwork that looked original and gold chandeliers hanging strategically over the tables scattered through the dining room.

Letting out a sigh of appreciation, Megan wondered how lucky she was to be at such a place, despite her lack of appropriate attire.

A few people were eyeing her questioningly but as soon as the hostess spotted Jeremiah they got bumped to the front of the crowd that was gathered.

“Dr. Carson, we weren’t expecting you this evening. But I’m sure we can accommodate you and your �" guest, if you just give me one moment.

The hostess was a woman around Megan’s age, although she looked much more sophisticated in her uniform and with her blond hair pulled back into a bun, though some of the sleekness had momentarily slipped when she spotted Jeremiah, as though she had done something wrong, even though he was the one who lacked the reservation.

Suddenly jittery, Megan began to tug at an imaginary thread on her t-shirt. Jeremiah grabbed her hand and briefly grazed her knuckles with his lips, causing a soft gasp to escape her lips.

The hostess looked somewhere between jealous and disgusted. The attention made Megan blush even redder, causing the man beside her to chuckle.

It was such a delectable sound. Not something you’d expect from someone like him. The sudden reminder of who, and what, he was, made her pull her hand away, and put them in the pockets of her sweats. Megan glared, but Jeremiah just stood there looking amused.

Insufferable.

Thankfully, Megan was spared having to make a biting remark by the hostess letting them know that she was ready to seat them. After assuring them the waiter would be right over, the girl hurried back to her post.

“Come here often?” Megan asked snidely.

“Yeah, when I get the chance.”

The look in his eyes reflected bemusement, but for the life of her, Megan couldn’t figure out why he seemed so damned pleased with himself.

Just as she stuck her tongue out at him, two men materialized out of nowhere. The waiter, accompanied y the chef. Megan began to wonder just how important Jeremiah was here. It was all curious indeed.

“Dr. Carson,” the chef said in a grating, overly-joyous tone. It was as though the man across from her was revered �" or perhaps feared.

Did they know about him? No, Megan shook her head. Jeremiah was too much of a control freak to put his life into so many hands.

“It was impromptu,” he replied, giving Megan a glance.

The two men glanced at Megan, then each other. To them, it seemed to explain the inappropriate attire Megan was wearing for a place of such high caliber. She wondered not for the first time that evening, why nothing was said about it.

“Ah, well, as always, Dr. Carson, it will be an honor,” the chef said as he slightly bowed and took a step back. Straightening, he turned and briskly made his way back to the kitchen.

In the blink of an eye, the menus then appeared on the table and the waiter was rattling off specials. Megan could barely keep up. Once, the waiter was silent, Jeremiah was staring at her. She felt uncomfortable but she didn’t know why. It took every ounce of strength Megan had to keep from shifting in her seat.

“Um, water with a slice of lemon now,” she finally whispered, unable to take any more of the unnerving scrutiny.

Jeremiah let out an exasperated sigh and ordered who glasses of red wine and bruscetta. IT made Megan smile and suddenly wonder if he knew that she loved it or it was just what he always ordered.

As the waited disappeared to get their drinks, Megan picked up the menu. She almost let out a gasp at the outrageous prices. She was definitely underdressed!

The wine and bruscetta alone cost what it would if Megan and Anya had a feast at the diner on campus. The sudden thought of Anya had Megan’s stomach clenching in guilt. She had originally set out to get answers, and instead she had been charmed and disarmed. No more!

“I want some answers. Right now,” she demanded, looking him square in the eye.

Her sudden composure and defiance had him taken aback momentarily. That didn’t happen often. Grinning, he raised his eyebrow and nodded.

“As you wish,” he whispered softly. Maybe this is what they both needed. Jeremiah thought if he could draw a breath he would be holding it until her inquisition was over. He didn’t know how much she would demand to know.

But honesty is all he would give her. Maybe the truth would set them free of this unnatural attraction. Sure, it would be because she was disgusted and couldn’t look at him, but at least they could move on.

Really? the voice in his asked. How is she going to move on after the deal is done?

Megan’s eyes narrowed, suspicious. This wasn’t the Jeremiah she had come to mistrust and loathe. She thought he looked resigned.

Composure was slipping. To bide some time, Megan began to peruse the menu again. She had expected some arguing or evasion. Agreeable didn’t seem to suit Jeremiah. Over the top of the menu, Megan could see Jeremiah sitting there, expectantly waiting.

Ugh.

“What?” she snapped.

Stifling a chuckle, he replied, “I’m merely anticipating your questions.”

 She couldn’t be sure, but Megan thought that his voice sounded on edge, as though he were nervous. What did he have to be nervous about?

“I’m tired of waiting, Jeremiah. I want to know why-” Megan started, but was cut off at the sound of her name.

Glancing around, she didn’t see anyone she recognized at first. Then she saw the woman who called her name, and Megan’s heart sank.

Forcing a smile, Megan greeted the woman who was making her way towards her, “Olivia. What are you doing here?”

Was Olivia following her? She didn’t think so. Then again, she dabbled in magic, so maybe Olivia didn’t have to follow Megan to know where she was going to be. It was an unnerving thought, almost as unnerving as the curious look she was getting from the man across the table from her.

Olivia rushed over and Megan was startled as she was crushed into a hug.

Moving back, Olivia took in Megan’s appearance from head to toe. Apparently even Olivia knew how to dress for this place. She was in a tea length light green dress that clung to her sleek figure. She gazed a disapproving look at Megan and spared a quick nod to the man accompanying Megan.

“I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to apologize for earlier. I’d like to talk over the weekend sometime if you have some time,” Olivia said earnestly.

She looked quite contrite, so Megan thought maybe she should let her off the hook. Smiling, Megan assured her she would find some time.

“Megan, honey, are you going to introduce me to your friend?” Jeremiah teased.

Glaring, Megan scowled, but obliged because at this point, it would be just plain rude. Before she opened her mouth though, Megan quickly wracked her brain trying to remember if she had ever mentioned Jeremiah’s name to Olivia before. She didn’t think so, so things should be safe. Megan knew that Jeremiah would never cause a scene in public, but she wasn’t sure how Olivia would react.

Apprehensive, Megan said, “Jeremiah, this is Olivia; Olivia, this is Jeremiah.”

Neither seemed to give any indication that they knew who the other was. Both smiled politely, and then Jeremiah stood, and bowed after shaking her hand, to place a kiss upon the back of her hand. At the touch of his lips, Olivia recoiled and stared at Megan in horror.

Megan paled, perhaps even turned green, as she realized that Olivia somehow knew who Jeremiah was.

Olivia hissed and moved in front of Megan. The scene was causing a few of the other patrons to give notice to the drama unfolding. Of them, Megan seemed to be the only one who saw, or at least cared.

Stepping around Olivia, Megan said, “Olivia, I will stop to see you over the weekend,” in a dismissive manner.

The tone left both Olivia and Jeremiah stunned, although Jeremiah was the only one who smiled.

Grabbing Megan’s arm, Olivia demanded, “No, you’re coming with me right now. I know what you are,” she said accusatory at Jeremiah. “And you can forget it. Consider your little deal called off.” Storming off toward the exit, Olivia tried to drag Megan with her, but she just dug her heels in.

“What the hell are you doing, Olivia. Knock it off. You’re causing a scene.”

“I could ask you the same! I’m trying to save your life. Now, come with me. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I was going to get answers. Now let go!” Megan pushed Olivia away.

A few of the wait staff were now staggered around them, ready to intervene, but no one really knew what to do. So they just stared, in fascination. Megan doubted drama like this happened on any sort of frequency in such a grand place.

Before Olivia had a chance to attempt to either continue to drag Megan or answer her, Jeremiah was next to them.

“She told you that she wanted you to let her go,” he said very quietly, with narrowed eyes.

Megan could actually see Olivia’s attempt to swallow the lump that suddenly formed in her throat, but despite her sudden fear, she continued to hold her ground �" and Megan’s arm.

“Fine. Now I’m telling you to let her go. Unless you want me to make you let her go,” Jeremiah threatened.

Olivia suddenly dropped Megan’s arm like it was a hot potato and Olivia just started at the two of them, stunned.

“Olivia, please -“

“I’m going. I’ll pray for your soul,” Olivia said tersely and turned and walked back out the way she came in.

Everyone was staring and Megan didn’t like it.

“Can we leave?” she whispered, burying her head in Jeremiah’s chest.

Amazed, Jeremiah paused for a moment before he wrapped his arms around Megan’s shoulders and held her close. Leaning his face down to nuzzle her ear, he whispered, “Of course.”

Their waiter came over to make sure everything was alright. She could hear Jeremiah talking to him, assuring him that everything was alright, but Megan’s head was so fuzzy that she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

 

Before she knew it, Jeremiah was leading her out the door, though still holding onto her protectively. Some of his caution was that he wasn’t sure if Olivia would be outside waiting for them.

But once they exited the restaurant, he couldn’t find any trace of her to suggest she was still lingering.

Suppressing the urge to scold Megan for not keeping quiet, he guided her into the passenger seat of the car and headed off in the direction of Megan’s apartment.

“Who is she?” he finally asked. By this point, he was more curious that furious.

Taking a deep breath, Megan let it out, “She’s someone I met at an occult shop. It’s where I found the book that I used to try to summon -,” Megan stopped mid-sentence. It was the book she had used to try to summon a demon, to summon Jeremiah. With a sigh, she continued, “Everything that has been happening has been so confusing. And I just wanted some answers. I thought she might have them,” she finished quietly.

“And did she? Have the answers you were looking for?” Jeremiah pressed.

“No,” Megan whispered, defeated. “I couldn’t even go into all of it. She latched on to bits and pieces and ran with it. After a while, I couldn’t even get a word in edgewise. So I left and I went to find you.”

“To get your answers?”

“Yes.”

He spared her a long glance. He knew how to handle the car on the road. His reflexes were faster than any humans. She wouldn’t get hurt.

Well, not from your driving. But she will end up getting hurt. She only has seven years left.

She looked scared and confused, but yet determined. The shadows didn’t suit her. She was made for the light. And he was going to have to take her away from it one day. He had stolen her life away.

A life he now wished she could keep so that they could spend it together.

What’s happening to me? he wondered. In all his years, he had never imagined he would, or even could, feel like this. And now because of what he was, it was tainted and impossible.

He had been stretching out the last week since their deal because he couldn’t imagine letting her go. She would have the next seven years ahead of her �" years that didn’t include him, and he couldn’t bear the thought of it. How was he going to survive without her?

One way or another, you have to find out.

The moment of truth was coming upon them. “What did you want answers to?”

Puzzled, Megan looked at him. The moonlight and the streetlamps let soft light filter through the car. It reminded her of the day they made their deal in his office. Only the light was much softer now, and so was Jeremiah.

“Everything,” she breathed. “I’m so confused. I almost don’t even know where to start! I want to know why you haven’t cured Anya yet, and why you keep hanging around me. You said you needed to know more about Anya, but in any of the time we’ve been together, we haven’t even really talked about her!”

“I know,” he admitted softly, “because it has nothing to do with Anya.”

“What has nothing to do with Anya?”

“Why I haven’t cured her; why I’ve been constantly around.”

Megan felt her throat tightening and her heart began to race.

“Then what does it have to do with?”

Here it was. The moment. Could either of them survive it?

“You. You’re the reason. Ever since we, well, since we kissed. I can’t describe it, and I can’t control it. I’ve never had this happen.”

Was this really happening? Megan couldn’t believe what she was hearing. But was she happy? Sure, it seemed like he was saying exactly how she felt. But were these feelings a good thing?

She wasn’t so sure. This was all so, so �" bizarre!

Olivia’s reaction at the restaurant helped bring Megan back to reality. This was the real world where deals weren’t made and people didn’t fall in love with demons. Hell, in the real world, demons weren’t even real!

A lone tear slid down Megan’s eye as she slowly shook her head. Turning her face so that he couldn’t see, she whispered, “No. This isn’t going to happen. This can’t happen. You need to honor our deal and get it over with.”

There was a long silence. Megan didn’t know how she was going to bear it if he didn’t say something. It was deafening. And it broke her heart. She knew he must be hurting, for she imagined the strength it had taken for him to tell her how he truly felt.

He could never know she felt the same way. It was an impossible situation. And all they were doing was getting in deeper which would just cause it to hurt more later. It was better just to end everything now. He had to get out of his life, and he hers, and get on with their own lives.

True, Megan only had a few more years, but they would be good years. She vowed to do something with her life, to make it mean something. Part of her was happy to know that when her time came to take her last breath that at least Jeremiah would be there with her.

“I’ll take you home. Give me your keys and I’ll drop your car off by morning,” he replied stiffly.

That’s it? her mind screamed at her. You tell him thanks but no thanks, and that’s all he has to say? Maybe you didn’t mean as much to him as you though, her subconscious mocked.

Megan just nodded. She was afraid if she said anything else, for fear that she would break down. That would do neither of them any good. All she wanted to do was get into her bed and cry. Maybe make some hot cocoa with marshmallows before she succumbed to her devastation.

It didn’t take long for Jeremiah to pull up to her apartment complex. She got out without a word. As she went to slam the door, he called to her.

“Megan. Please-”

She cut him off by raising her hand before he could go any further.

“Jeremiah, please. Don’t. Just make Anya better. Then I never want to see you again. Goodbye.”

With that she closed the door and walked away. Derrick, the doorman, opened the door and stared in wonder at Jeremiah’s car. He was barely coherent when he welcomed her home.

Racing to the elevator, she continually pressed the button until she heard the ding announcing the car’s arrival. Once inside she pressed the button for her floor, along with the close button. She just wanted to get home.

                He sat in the car, watching her walk, well more like run, out of his life. Had he really thought that he could be what she wanted, what she deserved?

                No. He was a monster. She deserved better than him; she deserved better than the deal which they had struck. In the end, he had no one to blame but himself. He did this to her, snatching away the rest of her life and revealing what he really was.

                Believing he was the one who deserved to rot in the pits of Hell for eternity, Jeremiah wondered if he would be able to make another deal with the goddess.

After he sensed that she was in her apartment safely, Jeremiah sped through the streets, mindless of what was going on around him. All he could think about was how he could get in touch with Maya and plead his case. Maybe she would laugh in his face, or maybe she would take pity on him and let him take his love’s place.

Finally he arrived back at his loft after a few hours of driving. All he wanted to do was to figure some way out of the mess he was in, but that would have to wait until he slept.

After tossing his keys on the small table near the door, he began to peel back the extra layers of clothing he had worn to work that day. As he tossed his tie on the kitchen table, Jeremiah tensed.

Someone was in his house.

Spinning around, ready to pounce on the uninvited intruder, he got into a crouch. Quickly he straightened back up as he saw the female leaning against one of the pillars separating the eating and living area. She had on a tea length dress that looked like it was spun of gold, matching the hair she had piled in a bun on the top of her head.

“Interesting day at work, dear?” she teased with an eyebrow raised. Her lavender eyes danced with amusement.

“I met your new little pet this morning,” she murmured softly.

Stunned, Jeremiah narrowed his eyes. “She’s not my pet.”

“Of course not,” she said, standing corrected. “So, tell me about this Megan. Rufus tells me she has you in a puddle like a school boy.”

It all made sense now. Rufus had gone and tattled on him. For a five hundred year old demon, it was a pretty childish move.

With a sigh, Jeremiah assured his mistress that the girl was nothing more than a momentary fascination, and promised that the job would be finished as soon as possible.

“Hmm,” was her simple reply as she took in his demeanor. “Well good, then. I don’t need you distracted. I depend on you too much; as we have a deal,” she said with a smile.

Forcing the lump in his throat down, Jeremiah nodded. How could he forget? Maya had not been into the business of dealing for souls until Jeremiah came along.

Three hundred and sixty two years ago, Jeremiah had been at a pub one night when one of the other patrons accused Jeremiah of carrying on with his sister. The accusation was false, and Jeremiah told the man so.

Not believing Jeremiah, the man continued to taunt and try to pick a fight with Jeremiah, but he did little more than shrug off the man’s tantrum. At one point, the man attempted to smash a glass over Jeremiah’s head, but he swatted it away and continued with his drink.

The barmaid and the rest of the gatherers at the pub were amazed at how unaffected Jeremiah was to the other man’s threats and allegations. But it meant nothing to Jeremiah, the trivial thoughts of the other man. He knew the statements to be false and that was all he needed.

After that he continued to ignore the heckling for a while longer, although he did finish up his night early. The other man had left some time ago, but Jeremiah’s mood had begun to decline after the altercation began. So after paying his tab and parting with farewells, he left the pub and started his walk home.

He had made it a few blocks before he started to feel as though he had been followed. Whenever he would look around however, there appeared to be no one about. The hour was late, so it wasn’t really a surprise that the streets should be deserted of any pedestrians, especially those whom he wouldn’t suspect to be up to no good.

A few blocks from his flat, Jeremiah got the sensation again that there was someone behind him. Yet again though, turning to look proved that no one was there. Turning back towards home, Jeremiah stopped short. There in front of him stood the man from the pub.

“Look man, I swear, I ne’er carried on with yer sister. I don’ even know who she be,” he told him, as he moved the man aside and started to make his way past.

As he stumbled by the other man, he felt a tug on his arm. The other man had grabbed Jeremiah’s arm and pulled him back toward him. Startled, he went to shout at the man to let go, but his cry went silent as the shot rang out.

The white hot pain of the bullet ripping through his flesh had Jeremiah falling to his knees. As he knelt there, the other man kicked him in the chest, causing him to crumple to the ground.

The man quickly walked away, so not to be spotted by anyone who might come to see what the commotion in the street was all about. Crawling toward his house, Jeremiah got as far as a bush on the curb.

That was where she found him a few moments later. She had heard the shot ring out from across town and as she made her way towards where the sound had come from, she could smell the distinct aroma of blood.

Following the smell, she found him curled up on the side of the road, awaiting death. She was ready to end his suffering, and had him cradled in her lap. But there was something about the man in her arms; she wasn’t sure what it was about him, but she knew he could have been destined for something great, had he been given half a chance.

As she stroked his hair, in her moment of weakness, he opened his eyes and stared at her.

An angel had come to save him! But she didn’t look much like an angel. Perhaps she was the angel of death, then. Either way was fine with Jeremiah, just so long as he wasn’t alone.

“I don’t want to die,” he whispered feebly. He knew that he didn’t have a choice, and that people must always beg. The last thing he wanted was to be cliché on his deathbed.

Smiling, she continued to stroke his hair. “And what would you do were you to not die tonight?” she asked.

“Anything. I would do anything and give anything.”

After a few moments thought, she asked him, “Would you give your soul?”

That would be something to get the attention of her mother! If she could take this soul away from the gods, it would give her great pleasure.

“Yes, yes, anything,” he said earnestly.

She wondered if he meant it.

“If I let you continue your journey on this earth, then would you be mine and help me in any way that I ask, whenever I ask?”

“I promise,” he whispered, as his breathing became uneven.

She had to do it now then, for he was fading fast.

“Deal,” she whispered and kissed him quickly on the lips to seal the agreement before she moved his head to the side and bit down.

Jeremiah shook his head, brining himself back to the present. He would never forget that night. He owed Maya everything that he had. It was because of her and their deal that he was alive today. His was the first soul she made a deal for. After that, she employed him to make deals on her behalf.

“Believe me, I remember our deal,” he replied tersely.

“Good. Though I can see why you’re drawn to her. She reminds me of you, or of the you that I met that night on the side of the road.”

“That man died over three and a half centuries ago,” he reminded her.

“Right you are. Now, you have an assignment, you have a deal, now it’s time to make good on your end of the bargain,” she said, chastising him. “It would after all, be my reputation that got tarnished if word got out that deals were being reneged on.”

“I understand,” he assured her.

“I hope you do, Jeremiah,” she said softly, sending a chill down his spine.

Although she had never used that tone with him, he had been witness to it before. The softness was really anything but; it was deadly, a threat. No one crossed Maya and lived to tell about it.

After a moment of contemplation, Maya asked him, “Do you wish to be free? To be out of my service?”

Jeremiah hesitated. It could be a trick, especially since he had just gotten the tone. There was a look on her face though that he couldn’t translate, but it made him believe it wasn’t a trick.

“That would be up to you,” he said carefully. “I am in your debt. Should you ever wish to release me, then I would go.”

 “Very well. You have 24 hours to complete your task, or I kill the girl,” she warned. “Finish this deal and you may have your freedom Jeremiah. Things have a way of working out,” she finished cryptically before she disappeared.