Through a Crimson Veil by Patti O'Shea

asked. Her tone of voice was making it difficult for him to hang on to his cool.
    “No one you need to worry about.”
    She continued pushing him: “Kiverians have been known to indwell. I’d hate to have to fight a stream of possessed ex-lovers.”
    He was standing in front of her before he realized he’d moved, and his hands were on the back of the couch, on either side of her head. Conor never allowed himself to use his demon powers when he wasn’t out slaying, yet he’d just broken his own rule. Mika blinked, but that was the only sign his unnatural speed had unnerved her. He leaned in closer, eyes no doubt blazing like two bonfires, and growled an answer. “One other person. One. My former mentor. You don’t have to worry about him. Not only does Ben now live hundreds of miles away, he’s too old and frail for any demon to possess.” Everyone knew if a human died before indwelling was complete, the demon died too.
    With a satisfied smile, Mika sat forward and rubbed her nose against his. Conor jerked away as if she’d jolted him with a million volts of electricity.
    “Why do you keep doing this?” he asked quietly. He expected some flippant answer along the lines of Because I can , but that wasn’t what he got. She sat back on the couch.
    “You’re too tight. You need to let loose and live.”
    “I can’t ‘let loose.’ I’m half Kiverian—you know that. I have to keep the evil leashed.”
    She shook her head. “Kiverians aren’t evil. They’re…dark. There’s a difference.” She looked at him intently.
    He didn’t agree, but he wasn’t going to argue with her.
    Mika’s mouth twitched into a frown and she said, “There’s a Japanese proverb: ‘The bamboo that bends is stronger than the oak that resists.’ You’re resisting what you are, and some day you’ll snap. It’s inevitable. But if you accept your demon self, integrate it into who you are, you’ll be the stronger for it.” She continued to stare at him.
    Conor shifted uncomfortably. Did she expect him to believe she was offering this advice because she cared for him? More likely she wanted his demon side out for some reason of her own. He changed the subject.
    “Your mother is Japanese?” At first, he didn’t thinkshe’d go along, but he could almost see her give a mental shrug.
    “My dad. But he prefers to be called American. He’s the fifth generation of his family to be born in this country.”
    “Your mother is the demon?” Conor asked. When Mika nodded, he felt shock course through him. This put a whole different spin on things. He’d assumed her mother had been raped the way his own had. “Did she trick him or force him in some manner in order to conceive you?”
    Mika looked confused. “How would I know? But I doubt it. I don’t remember any tension between them.” She suddenly scowled. “Why would you even ask that kind of question?”
    He kept his face blank, but it didn’t make any difference; he saw the truth dawn on her. Though he thought he’d been oblique enough, somehow he’d tipped her off and given her another weapon to use against him. Conor braced, waiting for her to wield it. She surprised him.
    “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. Then, after a short pause, she started a monologue about the wood floors in his house. Their eyes met and her lips twisted—not in humor, but in understanding. For the first time, Conor realized he could really like Mika.
    And that made her far more dangerous than he’d first believed.

Chapter Three
    The sound of a door closing jerked him from a light doze, and Conor’s whole body tensed. Then he remembered Mika. He didn’t relax until he heard the water come on in the bathroom. With a soft curse, he pushed into a sitting position and leaned back against the couch. It was daytime. He didn’t remember the floor being this hard, but his body ached from sleeping on it. Or from trying to sleep.
    It wasn’t only the discomfort that had kept him awake, either.