Page 13 of Hot Girls Date Demons

Ancient.

Terrifying.

The boys flee.

The train car falls silent.

And then the pain returns.

Harder.

Crueler.

I collapse.

This is it.

After three centuries, this is how I die.

On a commuter train.

Pathetic.

But then, there’s softness.

A touch against my wrist.

Warm fingers.

Gentle.

I force my eyes open.

And I see an absolute angel.

Pale skin.

Impossibly long, dark hair streaked with gold.

Beautiful brown eyes filled with concern.

And curves that make something primal inside me sit up and take notice.

She's speaking, but I can't hear the words.

Because all I can concentrate on is her scent.

Beneath the antiseptic smell of soap—and yes, I quickly clock her attire.

She’s wearing scrubs, so maybe my Angel is a nurse or doctor.

But there’s also something warm and sweet—something tempting.

Like vanilla orchids and sun-ripe berries.

I take another breath, long and deep, and my whole world stops because beneath everything, she smells like—oh fuck—she smells like mine.

My heart thuds inside my chest.