Demon Marked

still liked him. Why didn’t that go away? “It also bothers me that my fangs apparently give me a lisp, and I don’t know how to make them appear so that I can practice.”
    Nicholas didn’t respond, and she couldn’t read his expression again—which meant that he was thinking something that she could use against him. But she saw the moment when his thoughts turned to something that he didn’t mind her knowing: That cold little smile formed again and his gaze dropped to his hands, still holding her shoulders. Icy satisfaction bled though the shield over his emotions.
    “What is it?” she asked. No doubt more about how evil demons were, rinse and repeat.
    “I was remembering what Rosalia once told me: Fill a room with hundreds of demons and Guardians who can each fly and throw city buses around, then add one human . . . and that one weak person would be the most powerful being in the room.”
    That was far more interesting than evil and lies. “Because of the Rules?”
    “Yes. A demon has little physical power against a human. But a human can do anything to a demon.”
    Suddenly, though he’d loosened his grip until it would take little effort to step away from him, Nicholas’s hold on her seemed like a threat. Was that what he wanted her to feel?
    “You want me vulnerable?”
    “I don’t know if vulnerable is possible for a demon. I just wanted the upper hand—and I almost forgot that I’ve always had it.” He let go of her shoulders and stepped back. His gaze swept from her head to her toes. “So do what you like, demon. Try to lure me into bed, try to make me laugh. It won’t matter in the end. The only power you can ever have over a human is an emotional one, and I’ll never care for you.”
    Oh. Well, she already knew that.
    It was strange, though. He’d let her go, but she did feel suddenly vulnerable, experiencing the brief impulse to cover her naked chest, to back away from him. And she didn’t know whether the sharp stab of disappointment came because he’d stopped touching her or because of his declaration that he’d never care for her . . . but she felt that, too.
    Then those emotions passed, and she could only be vaguely dissatisfied that she had, once again, somehow messed up this whole demon thing. He’d just admitted to worrying that he’d lost the upper hand, and she hadn’t even realized it or taken advantage of the situation.
    Really, she needed to step up her game. The plots he imagined her forming were much better than those she came up with herself.
    Except for the last plot he’d imagined. That was just dumb.
    She watched him return to the table, distracted for a second by the fit of his trousers over his ass and the broadness of his shoulders. Only a slight dampness at his collar ruined the tailored perfection of it all—and she’d have loved to run her hands through his wet hair, messing up the neatly combed strands, then dragging him down to the floor to strip away every bit of clothing.
    “You really thought I invited you to have sex so that you’d begin to care about me?”
    He sat, looked at her over the top of his newspaper. “Didn’t you?”
    “I have amnesia, not a rampant case of the stupids. I’d have to be an idiot to think that any man mistakes sex for affection.”
    His short exhalation sounded like the precursor to a laugh, and she felt his grin down to her toes.
    “So you would,” he said. “What is your plot, then?”
    “To tell you about all of the dried semen in this room. I’m hoping that it makes you feel skeevy enough to take another shower, and gives me another chance to see you naked.”
    He didn’t seem that concerned. Slowly, he folded his paper, studying her all the while.
    Finally, he asked, “Why do you want to see me naked?”
    “Because you don’t want me to see you naked. I want to know why.” Though if she was completely honest, there was more to it. “I also think that I’d like looking at your ass, and I want to see whether you lied about your not-monstrous genitals. For all I know, the truth is that you really only have one leg, but you prop yourself up with a dragon-sized penis.”
    Nicholas closed his eyes. He seemed to choke out his reply. “I don’t.”
    “So you say, but it’s difficult to trust humans who aren’t bound by a demonic bargain to tell the truth.”
    He gave a short laugh and opened his eyes. “So noted.”
    She couldn’t detect a hint of coldness in his amusement. Good enough for