Read Demon's Delight for Free Online Page A

cold.”
    â€œIt’s eighty degrees outside. And make a rhyme to fix your hurts.”
    â€œWhat rhymes with pain?”
    â€œWhat doesn’t? Chain, brain, drain, mane, main, champagne, bloodstain, complain, disdain, explain, ingrain, migraine—”
    â€œThat’s it!” he shouted, startling her.
    â€œThe man on the bed
    With a migraine
    Fix his head
    And take away his pain.”
    Rhea covered her eyes. She probably should have covered her ears. “That’s really horrible. You’re an awful poet.”
    â€œHey, it got the job done, didn’t it, sunshine?”
    â€œQuit calling me that.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œWe’re fated to kill each other, not give each other nicknames like Sunshine and Stupidhead.”
    He sprang out of the bed, fully healed, and examined his filthy, shredded clothes in the mirror. “I am absolutely billing you for the clothes I must now go buy at Neiman’s.”
    â€œYou will not. And did you hear what I said?”
    â€œSure. How come you can always come up with a bunch of words that rhyme?”
    She studied the pattern of the quilt, rather than look directly at him. She’d been feeling weird, staring at his broad shoulders. Almost…tingly? “It was my minor in college. I still, you know, write them. Poems.” She wouldn’t say it. No, she wouldn’t. Okay, maybe she would. “You should get yourself a rhyming dictionary.” Good work! You’ve just put a powerful weapon into the hands of your greatest enemy.
    â€œYeah, well, I don’t have a lot of leisure time to hang out in bookstores and—” He spun around so quickly she nearly jumped out the window. “What? You’re a poet?”
    â€œApparently, I’m a warrior for the honor of the Goodman clan,” she said dryly.
    â€œYeah, tell me about it. I got the whole song and dance by the time I was sixteen. How long have you known?”
    â€œSince last Monday,” she admitted.
    â€œOh, shit! Why did your folks wait so long?”
    â€œTradition.”
    He had turned back and now scowled at his reflection. “I’m really beginning to hate that word.” Then, quick as thought, he spun back. “Wait just one minute. You were going to be a poet, weren’t you? But then you had to do…” He gestured to his (broad) chest. “This.”
    â€œWell…” She looked away.
    â€œAnd you’ve only known this since last week ?” He marched to the door and yanked it open. “Where’s your dad?”
    â€œUh…target practice, I think.”
    â€œBecause I’m off to kick his ass.”
    â€œBetter not,” she said, hiding a grin. It wasn’t a laughing matter, not really. “He taught me everything I know, not everything he knows.”
    â€œI can take him,” Chris said confidently.
    She snatched up the water glass from the bedside table and flung it toward him, missing his nose (on purpose) by half an inch. The glass exploded against the wall, and he ducked (about two seconds too late).
    â€œWhat the hell ?”
    â€œI could have thrown that at your left eye. But I didn’t. It’s why we always vanquish you, Mere. You can’t do magic fast enough to save yourself from our reflexes. All you can do is—”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œGet your licks in.”
    â€œVery nice. I’m out of here. You think I’ve got nothing better to do than hang out with a girl who wants to ice me?”
    â€œWoman,” she corrected.
    â€œPlease. I’ve got almost a decade on you.”
    â€œAre you leaving, or do I have to talk to you some more?”
    â€œI am leaving. Right now. I’m sure there’s a demon to vanquish or a damsel in distress to rescue.”
    â€œDemon?”
    â€œWhat do you think I do,” he snapped, “when I’m not here trying to talk you out of murdering me?”
    â€œMake evil