Demon's Plaything Read Online Free PDF Page A

‘entertainment.’ How long do these things last, anyway?”
    “A couple, three, four hours, maybe.”
    “I have to work tomorrow! I can’t sit here all night.”
    “Shay, it’s fine. Everything’s under control,” Ian said softly.
    She scoffed. “Don’t fucking try to manage me.”
    “I’m telling Nana on you, potty mouth,” he said teasingly.
    She rolled her eyes, but smiled in spite of herself.
    “Whatever,” she waved a hand at him, “just hurry up.”
    “All right. I’ll come check on you later.”
    Ian scurried away.
    Shayla sat on one of the folding chairs and waited. She fiddled with her phone, but barely had a signal, so that was out. Then she briefly considered napping, having long ago learned to steal sleep when she could, but another quick glance around the room nixed that idea. She was unwilling to risk someone, or God forbid, something like a rat—she shivered—sneaking up on her. And so she sat, literally twiddling her thumbs.
    She made it all of five minutes before she gave up. She wasn’t a prisoner, not yet anyway, so she sure as hell wasn’t going to sit in this little hole like one. And maybe she’d see a little eye candy, one specific piece in particular. The thought was ridiculous, she knew. Even if she disregarded that rage-inducing incident at the Diner, he was entirely unsuitable. At best, the man’s attendance at the fights revealed that he had extremely unseemly hobbies; at worst, it revealed that he was a part of this world, one of the people who contributed to the suffering she saw every day, the pain, sadness, and desolation that she tried to fight against in her small way. The thought curdled in her stomach and pushed away that spark of excitement she didn’t want to acknowledge. The man was trouble; it was plain to see, and she didn’t need or want him, or anyone like him, in her life.
    Still, the thought of the thrill that seeing him would bring couldn’t be squelched. And besides, she remained bored, so she stood and walked toward the noise of the crowd. Standing on the edge of the dressing area, she scanned the room, slightly, but only slightly, less surprised by the euphoria that reigned. Then, as if guided by magnetic force, her gaze found him. He stood several inches taller than his companions, but beyond his height and physical presence, and the warm, friendly smile that covered his face as he spoke, that unnameable but equally undeniable pull that drew her to him confirmed his identity.
    Her gaze lingered, the knowledge that he was trouble fading in the face of his warm appeal, and after a moment, he tilted his head in her direction, the smile on his face dropping, but not in anger or upset. No, after a flash of recognition, his gaze turned molten, an intense, exposed expression of desire clear for anyone who cared to see.
    She quirked an eyebrow and licked her suddenly dry lips. Then he flashed a wicked smile and made his way toward her. Shayla stayed rooted to her spot, anxious, annoyed, and more excited than she dared acknowledge at the prospect of speaking to him. In what felt like the blink of an eye, he stood in front of her, a smile turning his lips and his eyes still carrying their wanton invitation.
    “I was hoping to se—”
    His words were cut off by the roar of the crowd.
    ••••
    The woman, Dr. Shayla Rodgers, looked at the ring, all of those subtle traces of the interest that had shone in her eyes now gone. She was on alert, ready to jump in. Demon looked toward the ring just as another vicious blow was delivered.
    Shayla seemed poised to step toward the ring, but he stilled her with a hand to her shoulder.
    “Wait, you can’t go up there.”
    “But he’s hurt…”
    “Just wait a second, okay?” he said.
    She pursed her lips, appearing ready to rebel, but she waited. A moment later, a security guard pulled the loser out of the ring, and Shayla relaxed an increment.
    “I’m sorry. I have to go. I need to check him out.”
    In a