Page 1 of Demon On Deck

Chapter 1

Setting Sail

KALLIE

“Prepare to toss the lines!” A crewman yells down to the crew on the dock.

I watch from the upper deck railing as they scramble about, ensuring our embarkation is flawless. As soon as the last of the crew boards, the gangway is retracted to fold seamlessly into the ship’s hull.

Moments later, there’s a slight forward motion as the ship begins to pull away from the dock.

No getting out of this now.

Not that there ever really was any getting out of this crazy cruise. Nope, my crazy ass sister, in all her good intentions, purchased tickets that were one hundred percent non-refundable. The only exception seemed to be if there was an unexpected death, and even then, a death certificate would have to be provided.

Who would fake a damn death? People really do fucking suck.

Like Matt, my low-life ex. He sucks a bag of moldy dicks.

Since the only way I was getting out of this cruise was death, I find myself standing at the rail, sulking. I love that Mel wanted me to celebrate the end of two years’ worth of legal mumbo-jumbo bullshit. This divorce has drained me in so many ways. My emotions are now locked down tighter than Fort Knox. My creativity has been shot to shit. And my finances… What I should be doing is busting my ass at the shop instead of standing on the top deck of a cruise ship with everything I could dream of and more on it.

But I would never do that to Mel. She spared no expense on this, and I won’t waste her hard-earned money. And she knew that when she surprised me with the ticket.

Crafty bitch.

No matter how much I protested, right up until the moment I boarded the ship, she refused to swap with me and come on the cruise in my place.

“You earned this.” She kept repeating on a loop.

Now, here I stand watching the shoreline rapidly disappear, lost in my own thoughts. I do not have time for this. With a small flower shop to run, and a mountain of debt—thank you dickhead—I should be home. Going on a two-week cruise is not conducive to escaping my current financial state.

Instead of basking in the tropical sunshine, I should be booking bridal fairs, renting a booth at the local farmers market, and stopping by city hall to see how I can become their official vendor for city functions.

Two years of trying to crawl out from under the financial mess Matt left me with. Leaving me when I caught him with one of his employees was horrific. Asking for my engagement ring back was a low blow. But seeing him share her pregnancy announcement on social media, after he’d always told me he didn’t want kids, was devastating; depression crept in quickly.

“Cocktail, ma’am?” a friendly voice says from my side, pulling me out of my dark thoughts. A uniformed man stands next to me, a pleasant smile on his face, a tray of champagne in his hands.

I return his smile and snag a flute. “Thank you so much.”

“My pleasure, ma’am,” he says, moving on. I sip my bubbly, watching as the land becomes a thin line on the horizon. Once my drink is finished, I head inside, taking in the sights and sounds of people aboard this imposed ten-day vacation. Humans and monsters alike stroll through the main thoroughfare of the ship. Happy families pointing at lavish decor, couples taking selfies, even a demon with glorious wings dressed in a three-piece suit, mill about, soaking in the setting.

I should be doing the same, taking in the sights, but I can’t seem to gather any of that energy for myself.

Not wanting to drag down the vibe with my own issues, I decide to head up to my room and call Mel. I promised to check in with her so she can live vicariously through me. Really, I think she just wants to make sure I’m not hiding in my room the entire time.

“Hey, sister! How’s the cruise?” My sister says excitedly.

“We set sail a little while ago. I watched them prepare and cast off and even had a glass of champagne,” I say with enthusiasm I definitely don’t feel.

“Kallie,” my sister says in that tone of voice that can only be achieved by an aggravated sibling. She can see right through my faux enthusiasm.

I roll my eyes. Thankfully, she’s not there to see it. “What?” I say innocently.

“Kallie.”

“Mellodie.”

“You are supposed to be enjoying your cruise,” she deadpans as I walk to the balcony of my room and peer at the vast ocean view.