Neon Blue by E Frost (best book reader .TXT) 📗

I shake my head, staring at the still figure in the middle of the crowd.

C’mon, let’s go get some ice cream.

He drags me away as the crowd thickens around the fallen man.

Chapter 22

I lead him to the Ben and Jerry’s outlet in silence. I haven’t been to the store before; it’s on the other side of downtown from my office and even though I like Ben and Jerry’s, I’m not that much of a devotee that I’m willing to trek across Boston for a fix. So it takes me a little while to find the store at the far end of Park Plaza.

The store’s size and emptiness is a surprise. I peer through the window at the long counter and couple of tables squeezed into a little store-front no bigger than my parlor. There’s someone sitting at one of the tables, but after looking through the window for a moment, I realize it’s not a customer. It’s the bored-looking girlfriend of the heavily-pierced slacker behind the counter. They’re both clearly counting down the minutes until five.

“I think they’re closing,” I say to the demon.

Too bad. I want the real ice-cream experience.

Fine, fine. It’s not even quarter to five yet, so I push open the door and walk up to the counter, scanning the list of flavors posted on the back wall. They all look good, but one catches my eye.

“Butter Pecan,” I decide with a glance at the demon.

He grins. “Mint Chocolate Chunk.”

I’m for leaving once the slacker hands us our dishes, but the demon strolls over to one of the little tables and sits down. The chair creaks under his weight and the table looks like it will collapse if he leans hard on it. C’mon, savor the real ice cream experience.

What is it with you and the real ice cream experience?

He rests his leather-clad elbows on the table, which wobbles dangerously. I’m enjoyin’ this. Don’t fuck it up.

I sink into the chair across from him. Sorry.

He watches me for a moment, his eyes dark and as soft as Saul’s ever were. You okay? You were pretty spooked comin’ outta the tower.

I take a spoonful, move the cold, rich ice cream around on my tongue. Watching you go all demon . . . it’s not a nice thing to see.

You said you knew what I am. You busy foolin’ yourself thinking I’m human?

No, I mean, I know you’re a demon. It’s just not . . . it’s not obvious all the time. I’m not thinking about it constantly.

An’ you don’t like to be reminded.

I glare at him. It’s frightening.

You defended yourself pretty well last night. You know, if you’d called lightning on the dead bitch, she wouldn’t have stood a chance.

I hunch over my ice cream. I’ve never done it offensively before.

Yeah, I figured. The demon stretches his legs under the table, rubs his booted toe along the back of my calf. Lesson one in teachin’ you how to use your power. If you got it, flaunt it.

I take another mouthful of ice cream, crack a pecan between my back teeth, avoiding the temporary one. I don’t want to learn this. I was happy the way I was.

The demon gives me a grin that manages to stay just this side of wicked. Sweet meat, face it, you’re a fuckin’ target. What the dead bitch did to you was inevitable. An’ if I hadn’t been there to pull your ass outta the fire, she’da killed you. Stop bein’ a victim an’ learn how to master what you got.

I’m not a victim! I flare at him.

Better. A little healthy anger’s useful.

I shake my head. Look, I—

Give in gracefully.

I roll my eyes. Oh, you’re one to talk about giving in gracefully. You’ve never given in on anything.

Think not? He doesn’t elaborate. Just looks at me, one dark eyebrow raised, until I look away, remembering that he’s had very few choices before now.

Listen, I’m not the only thing that’s gonna find you tasty. You’re startin’ to flower, and that’s gonna attract a fuck-load of attention you don’t want. So learn what I’m tryin’ to teach you. It’s for your own good.

My own good? How could anything you have to teach me possibly be for my own good? As you’ve just reminded me, you’re a demon. And you’ve killed how many people since we’ve met? Five in three days?

He shrugs and eats more ice cream. Given who they were, some would call that community service.

I snort aloud.

There’s no satisfying some people. He grumbles into my mind. Anyway, lesson over for today. What are we doin’ next?

I thought you wanted to savor the real ice cream experience?

Been there, done that.

I shake my head ruefully. If you really want to go on a duck tour, we could do that. I think there’s a sunset cruise.

Do we get to eat the ducks?

What?!

After the tour, do we get to eat the ducks? I love duck.

I laugh a little, despite myself. No, we do not eat the ducks.

The demon frowns into his ice cream; it melts around the edges. That’s false advertising, that is. We should get at least one duck. How about some roast duck after?

What if I said I was vegetarian?

The full wicked grin finally appears. I wouldn’t believe you. You like meat too much.

I roll my eyes and refuse to rise to the bait. I’m sure we can find you some roast duck.

What about sushi? I’ve missed sushi.

Plenty of good sushi in town. There’s good sushi near where I live, too. Porter Square is known for it. And there’s a terrific place about a mile up on Mass. Ave. that has amazing sushi. If he doesn’t mind driving – or taking a brisk walk before dinner – that’s where I’ll take him. When did you get to like sushi?

When I was encircled in Japan.

I raise an eyebrow in surprise.

What? The demon asks.

It didn’t occur to me . . . you know, that you’d have been summoned in other countries.

Why? Warlocks ain’t unique to the good ole U.S. of A.

I wave