Jessica Sorensen - Stolen Kisses

D o you ever wonder if your life has been a complete and utter dreamor a complete and utter nightmare, depending on what kind of life you have? Or have you ever had one of those moments when you question if youre dead and what youre seeing is the afterlife, but you dont realize it? Or do you sometimes question if youre trapped in a coma and your mind has created a delusional world when you wake up in a demon lair with rap music booming through the stony walls? No? Huh. Well, I guess its just me then.

Just in case you ever do find yourself in these sorts of situations, take my advice: youll question if anything is real.

What the hell happened? I mutter, clutching my head and blinking around at what I can only assume is a demon lair. Well, either that or Ive stumbled across a very high-tech bear cave.

I immediately shake my head. Seriously, Evalee, a high-tech bear cave? What the hell is wrong with my brain! That is the million-dollar question, isnt it?

I rack my mind for how I got here, trying to put together the pieces of how I ended up lying in a bed, in a cave, with lantern lights covering the domed ceiling, a stereo with a pretty great base system, and the largest flat screen television Ive ever seen.

Slowly, bits and pieces creep back to me

Hunter confessing our entire friendship is a lie

The secret society he, Opal, Ryleigh, and my fake parents belong to

Me being some sort of part-witch, part-demon, part-creature in question freak

Max the demon showing up, kidnapping me, and carrying me someplace where time moves faster than in Mystic Willow Bay

Me begging Max to put me down when I started to feel dizzy

Then blacking out after hanging upside down for too long.

Freakin demons. I press my fingertips to the brim of my nose and take a few measured breaths, telling myself to remain calm, that whatevers about to happen cant be any worse than finding out Ive been lied to my entire life by everyone I thought cared about me. It really cant be worse, I mutter, my heart clenching in pain. Nothing can I dont think.

Sucking in an inhale, I lift my head and sit up straight in the bed. I give my body a once-over to make sure everything is normal and that Max didnt do anything to me while I was passed out, like say curse me with a unicorn horn pox. Except for a couple of scratches, my pale skin appears free of any horns. However, my shorts do have a couple of tiny burn holes in the hem, and so does my black T-shirt and plaid shirt.

What in the freaking smoking witches happened? I slip my finger through one of the singed holes and frown. Why does it look like someone pressed cigarettes into my clothes ? Or like a dragon breathed on me? My eyes widen. Perhaps, while I was unconscious, we ran into a dragon.

Fearing other parts of my body are burnt, I push from the bed and shuffle toward a tall, oval mirror perched in the corner of the room. As the cool, jagged, rocky floor scuffs against my bare feet, I become aware that Ive lost my boots. Well, either that or Max jacked them so I cant easily run away.

Grimacing at the thought, I move in front of the mirror and examine my body. My long brown hair is a tangled mess, but fortunately appears the same length as always. And except for a black smudge across my left cheekbone, my face looks normal. Well, as normal as a face can look with weird rainbow eyes.

Blowing out a stressed breath, I comb my fingers through my messy hair then move on to my next problemfiguring out where in the bleep I am. I know from the small, glittering stream of water cascading down the walls that I have to be in a demons lair. But is this Maxs place? Why would he bring me here? Why did he take me at all? He never did give me any answers. He just told me that I could call him Max and that Id be returned back to Mystic Willow Bay in time to save my sister. That means hell eventually let me go, right?

I nearly laugh at my stupid thoughts. Ha! Just because a demon says something, doesnt make it true. In fact, usually every day is opposite day for a demon, most of them being liars.

Which would make you a liar, too.

A shaky exhale trembles from my lips as reality crushes down on my shoulders.

Im part demon. Im part of the group of species that kills for fun, curses people for no reason, and lives underground; sometimes in sewers, and sometimes in gross, nasty lairs. Although, this lair doesnt resemble any of the photos Ive seen of demon lairs. Perhaps this room is the nicer section of it.

Summoning up every drop of courage I possess, I inch toward the arched doorway across from me to get a better look at where I am. The closer I get, the louder the music becomes, blasting out any other noise and giving me no sense of whats going on.

Am I alone? Is a cluster of demons waiting for me to step out so they can feast on me?

According to Hunter, if a demon tries to drink my power, they die. I wouldnt have believed him, if I hadnt seen it with my own eyes.

That revelation makes me feel a tad bit better, but any sense of comfort goes bye-bye, see ya on the next full moon when I exit the room and step out into a smoke-filled room with chairs, tables, and a fireplace.

Oh, yeah, and about ten flippin demons, both male and female, smoking cigars, drinking whiskey, and playing a game of cards.

I instantly screech to halt and start to back away, but its too late. Ive already been spotted by every single one of them.

Um I try not to panic, yet my anxiety shoots through the roof as ten pairs of red, bloodthirsty, murderous eyes fixate on me.

And all of them look ready to kill.

O kay, maybe I jumped to conclusions when I said all of them look ready to kill. Only a couple look murderously bloodthirsty, but that could be that theyre just thirsty.

My guess is confirmed when a demon with sandy-blond hair and sporting a tux materializes in the room to refill everyones glasses.

As the demons drink their freshly poured whiskey, the bloodthirsty looks go down a notch. A few of the other demons seem utterly bored with my presence. One of them even yawns. Some appear mildly intrigued, other marginally annoyed. Another laughs at me.

The sound sends a chill up my spine. I know that mocking laugh.

I squint through the smoke and, sure enough, I make out a dark-haired, pierced, Goth prince laughing at me from the far back corner.