Night was approaching on the cabin. After enjoying a square of coffee cake, Atticus had retreated upstairs to his desk. I picked through the small bookshelf, finding nonfiction covering local birds and trees and how-to guides, as well as an assortment of fantasy novels and graphic novels.

One of them was signed.

I stared at the author's signature. It was generic; not signed to anyone in particular but it also had a doodle of the artist's depiction of themself. Why was this here? Where were we really?

Glancing up, I could see Atticus at his desk, presumably writing.

Putting the book back, I moved to the end table. Pulling the drawer open, I found batteries, tape, scissors, and some electrical cords. Moving to the closet outside the bathroom, I discovered towels, sheets, and toilet paper. I moved to the backdoor and paused looking out at the shed across the small clearing through the dimness of twilight.

"What're you looking for?"

I jumped at Atticus' voice before turning to face him. "Just getting my bearings on what's here."

His piercing blue gaze held mine, doing his own searching. "You seem to be getting comfortable."

I shrugged. "Should I be acting more like a guest?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I guess I'm just not used to sharing space with another person anymore." He moved back to the living room and I trailed him.

Stopping at the drink tray, he poured two and I scowled. "I'm not making a habit of that," I said with absolution.

Atticus brushed past me to water down the second glass before rejoining me. "Think of it as an initiation," he said, depositing the lighter-tinted drink in my hand. "To your first day," he said, holding his glass out towards me.

Reluctantly, I clinked my glass to his and let a sip pass through my lips as he finished his own in one smooth gulp. Moving to rid myself of the remaining liquid, long fingers stopped me, wrapping around my wrist. "Waste not," he said softly, bringing my glass to his lips. He took a long sip, holding my wrist with the same reverence in which he held my gaze and I felt warmth blossom within me.

Slowly, his fingers retracted, grazing my skin in their departure. I almost dropped the heavy glassware despite the dent he had made in its contents.

"Finish it," Atticus encouraged me.

I brought the remaining liquor up to my lips to take another sip. While I did, a cheeky smile flashed as he used a fingertip to tilt the bottom of my glass up. The last of the tinged fluid poured into my mouth.

Sputtering, I swallowed much more than I intended while dribbling down my shirt. Now I was covered in flour, blood, and booze. Glaring daggers, I thrust the empty glass into waiting hands and strode over to the pile of clothes on the kitchen counter. Rifling through the materials, I found a pair of light gray sweatpants that would surely be too long, two more dark-colored t-shirts, and a pair of black socks. Grabbing the lot, I retreated to the bathroom.

Upon emerging, a voice greeted me. "So I'll just add those to your tab, shall I?" I could hear the smile in his voice as he sat away from me, facing the bay window.

My whole body collectively sighed. "I'm not paying for clothes with my body," I said gently. Falling into the loveseat gracelessly, I realized just how tired this body was becoming. At least I had realized the recliner was slightly more comfortable. Except...

My gaze drifted to the window where I saw a reflection of twin yellow eyes. "No," I said standing. I rushed to the door, faintly aware of the movement behind me.

Reaching for a Bean boot, I whipped the door open and hurled the footwear in the direction of the offending feline. "Go away!" I yelled before grasping hands grabbed my arm to fling me inside, slamming the door shut behind me.

Atticus pushed me up against the door, gripping my upper arms. His eyes were glowing a blood red that immediately captivated my sight in a hypnotic manner. Unable to divert my gaze, I fell into the abyss that was a demon's gaze.

It was like descending into darkness. Light began to recede from the edges of my vision as I stood bare; feeling naked and exposed. There was no fighting or lying in this state; only an awareness of the helplessness. My eyes welled with tears as I felt his influence push onto me.

"You will leave that cat alone," he demanded.

"I will leave the cat alone," I repeated automatically.

Unsteady breath ghosted over me as the moment drew out. I stood motionless, powerless to react, trying to anticipate what he might command.

The grip on my arms loosened slightly and I thought for a moment that he would release me from this humiliating state. Instead, he ran his touch down my arms to where my limp hands dangled at my side.

"You won't feel pain when I feed from you," he said in a quiet yet authoritative voice.

"I won't feel pain when you feed from me," I repeated back. If I could have sounded surprised, I certainly would have.

Crimson eyes faded into a fierce blue as Atticus let his demonic gaze drop. I shivered as I regained control of my body, fidgeting in place, my fingers twitching against those of the entity before me. I struggled to contain my ragged breath. "I didn't know you could do that," I said, my voice sounding meeker than I liked.

"It's... been a while," he said, not meeting my eyes. "I think I forgot I could." He started to retreat before turning back to me, "Ash, I need you to understand," His eyes finally met mine, tired and worn. "I don't want the cat to leave."

I held his gaze. My head was spinning and my heart was hurting. "I understand," I said, not wanting to. Escapism went against my beliefs but I needed to understand his perspective to properly help him.

Finally disengaging, Atticus moved to the bathroom without another word.

Leaning my back against the door, I side eyed the window. What was I supposed to do now? That black and white terror was going to haunt my dreams and I couldn't shoo it away- let alone anything else. The commands I was given were absolute. Just as my will had power, so did a demon's.

I had been weak. I had let my guard down and had let rage consume me. Tapping into that was child's play for a creature of sin. Atticus had tethered onto my wrath, allowing him to control me.

Yet he truly did seem surprised in doing so. I think he must have wanted so strongly to convince me that he unknowingly pushed his influence on me.

What really wasn't sitting well with me was the fact that he now knew he could take advantage of me if I slipped up again. He may not have known or remembered he had that ability before, but he certainly knew now.

And yet- the commands he had given were the furthest from what I would have predicted. Instead of having me give up any of the things I was denying him, or sending me away, or even just messing with me, he chose to prioritize my comfort.

I felt my neck. It was healing well but would remain tender until the morning.

The bathroom door opened, interrupting my thoughts.

Atticus looked up, seemingly startled to see me right where he had left me. I took a step forward to try and dispel the tension. He shook his head slightly before moving to tend the fire. "Sleep upstairs with me. I'll be good," he spoke over his shoulder.

I looked to the recliner then to the window. No eyes reflected back at me in the darkness of the night. Stars speckled what was visible beyond the treetops as nocturnal critters emerged into a world of shadow and out there somewhere, a black cat was probably pissed at me. "Okay," I shrugged to his back before heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth and my hair.

Catching my reflection, I noticed the dullness in my eyes. A good night's sleep would hopefully fix that. Needing rest was bittersweet. Beings of our ilk meant that we could push our bodies much further, but going without rest, especially after tapping into the energies we had access to, could cause some major faults in the flesh we inhabited. Vital systems could become damaged and just because we couldn't die didn't mean we couldn't suffer.

No one is immune to suffering.

Feeling weary of the night ahead, I tried to tell myself that Atticus would simply be too tired to play games.

I paused upon exiting the bathroom, taking in the glow of the fire. It was all that illuminated the cabin as the electric lights had been extinguished. I moved cautiously, letting my eyes adjust. Making my way to the stairs, I ascended causing multiple creaks to erupt from the worn wood planks.

The second floor was even darker as the muted firelight undulated in intensity. The skylight above doing little to assist.

"You're about as stealthy as a cow."

A solid form met my back as one hand covered my mouth, the other wrapping around my waist. Mouth close to my ear, Atticus whispered to me in a thick voice, "I know I said I'd be good," he paused, seemingly trying to inhale me. "But I definitely won't object if you decide to make the first move." He released me then and moved to the bed as if nothing had happened.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog that was temptation, only to watch as the lithe figure before me began to strip in the dark.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Atticus' silhouetted form turned to regard me, t-shirt disposed of. "Yeah, I'm not going to sleep fully clothed just to make you comfortable. You can decide whether my bare flesh is more offensive than the reaper cat. You're a big girl."

I could hear that damn smile in his voice again. But he did have a point. Huffing, I moved to the far side of the bed.

Long limbs moved to shed the dark jeans that my counterpart donned before sliding under the sheets. I hesitated. Still dressed in sweats and a cotton shirt, I bit my tongue as I started to second guess my decision to indulge in the amenities offered.

"Are you just going to stand there all night?" Atticus propped his head up with his arm, features fully bathed in shadow. "Come to bed," he said in a soothing voice.

"This is a bad idea," I said, retreating from the plush surface calling my aching body.

The dark figure before me sat up. "Don't be like that. No offense Ash, but you need a decent night's sleep. Do you really think you are going to get that downstairs?"

I groaned, knowing he was right. But would I really get the rest I needed sleeping next to this untrustworthy creature either? "What if we trade off using the bed?" I asked.

"Hell no," he said immediately. Flopping back down, Atticus rested an arm over his eyes. "Do what you want. Just don't keep me up with your incessant staring."

Closing my eyes, I steeled my resolve. I stole an unoccupied pillow and curled into myself on the floor. Laying there in the dark, hard wood beneath me, I reminded myself that this was temporary. The chill of the evening air, the discomfort in my joints, the uncertainty of tomorrow; even the onslaught of physical sensations that scared me most, they were all temporary. I had survived the day- and so had he. But together we could do more than survive. I just had to convince the demon sleeping adjacent to me of that.

I was swimming in crimson. Even with my eyes closed, I knew it was the exact shade of stagnant blood. Not so fresh to be free-flowing but also not nearly dried. I knew this as I swam- but I didn't know where I was swimming to. There was no concept of up or down. No light to guide me- just the endless fluid encompassing me.

Suddenly, after being far overdue, I felt my lungs burning. I needed a breath but there was none to be had in this sanguine ocean. Heart pounding, fingers clawing, panic began to rise.

Where was the surface? Where was salvation?

Something brushed against my shoulder causing me to scream out. Thick, sweet fluid rushed into my mouth, spilling in to fill every crevasse as I flailed, my tears seeping out to mix with the rouge that would become my tomb.

"Ash!" My name sounded sternly in my ear as Atticus called to me. He was hovering over me, clad in his boxer briefs as he roughly held my face in his warm hands. The lack of light hid his features, but the urgency was apparent in his voice. "What the hell was that?"

I blinked slowly up at him. It had been a long time since I had experienced a dream and I was having a hard time recovering. My body began to shake and I struggled to form a response. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" I asked, my voice sounding far away.

"Yeah, you woke me from inside my dream. What were you doing there?" Strong hands lifted me to rest against his kneeling body, enveloping me in toned limbs. When I didn't respond he continued, "I guess I shouldn't be surprised considering you're here at all."

I attempted to shrug but I think it seemed more like I was trying to adjust against him. Without warning, Atticus lifted me with him to set me down on the mattress. Too tired to fight, I let him settle in next to me and drifted off into a pleasantly, dreamless sleep.