No Way To Talk To A Lady

“Nothing will ever harm you when I am near,” Alethea said, her voice mild and her breath moist with the promise of spring laced with the potential of a budding romance.

“That is not true,” Calvin said. “This is all a trick to lure me into dropping my defenses.”

“You do not trust me?” the she-demon who wore the face of a human seemed genuinely injured by the remark. “Do you see me as the weak-minded do, as some sort of heathen monster?”

“I meant no offense, miss, believe me,” Calvin answered, backing away as slow as humanly possible for he was taught as a young lad that immortal beings take no notice of unhurried movements. “It is simply against my religious beliefs to engage in amorous congress with The Beast.”

“And there we have it,” Alethea said as her gaze slid off his innocent, blanched face. “The sad truth and the final nail in your coffin. Before I send you from this wretched thing you call existence, know one thing: I would have protected you with my life til my undying day had you only accepted me as I am. Now, however, I will feast on your flesh and bake my bread with your bones.”

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