Free outer demon wars 01 - comic book demon by emily cyr Page B

clearly due to the fact that he was taking his shirt off. Wait what? What was this, an aggressive strip-o-gram? Shit just kept getting weirder. 
    He threw his shirt off to the side, and oh dear mother of chicken noodle soup, his body was sculpted. Each time he shifted or moved, his muscles rippled. He had dark lines covering his whole chest and down his body. They were symbols that swooped and dipped. They looked as though someone hadn’t just tattooed them on, but as if they were painted. The markings were intriguing, but they were completely foreign to me. 
    I should probably roll my tongue back into my mouth. Belatedly, I realized that Gregus was also removing his shirt. His tattoos were all red, and they too covered his whole torso. But, his, were glowing. No. I rubbed my eyes with my hands and narrowed my gaze to Gregus’s tattoos. Yup, they were glowing. I bet his tattoo artist would be so proud. 
     Like the strike of a match, he burst into flames. The heat from his engulfed body was so intense that I fell back coughing. Even my eyes tried to water, but the moisture simply evaporated too quickly to do any good. I scrambled backward to the wall near the exit of the counter. There were papers flying all around above me like a mini tornado. I heard the two men yelling and the sounds of fighting above the crackling of fire and whooshing gusts of air. I had no way to know who was winning or losing, but I knew one of the losers had to be the store. I pulled my knees to my chest, trying like hell to be a smaller target. 
    Carl would die if any of his comics got destroyed. Fuck Carl and fuck this store. I needed to get out. Self-mother-fucking-preservation, Annabelle! I crawled, leaving the safety of my hidey-hole, when my knee hit the fire extinguisher. I picked it up and pulled the safety pin. I took a deep breath trying to center myself. I jumped up waving the nozzle around as if the damn thing were a tommy gun. 
    I squeezed the lever and began covering everything with white foam. My eyes were clamped shut. I really did not want to see anything. Someone was screaming. Oh, it’s me . I dropped the canister and bolted. Before I could make it to the door, strong, warm arms circled my waist. 
    “Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!” I was acting like a crazy person. I couldn’t help it. This was all just too much. I was thrashing, throwing punches, and slapping anything I could. My elbow connected with hard bone, and I paused in my near deadly assault to cradle my bleeding arm. 
    “Shhh, dara . Shhh prada , Dara .” he whispered in my ear. 
    The word dara , sounded so familiar. It was on the edge of my memory, but I couldn’t quite remember. It was the guardian, as he was called, whose strong arms encircled me. I couldn’t help but relax into him. He was so warm pressed so snuggly against me, and it lit nearly every nerve on fire. 
    I will not arch my body into his. Don’t you do it, Annabelle. He was pressed against my back, so I had an uninterrupted view of the store. Or rather the disaster that would cause Carl to suffer a coronary. The place was a wreck. Nearly every single rack was tipped over, and there were no less than ten small fires. Gregus’ headless body laid in the middle of the store. I couldn’t hold in the scream. 
    The cage of a man holding me turned me in his arms and pressed my head into the crook of his neck. He placed a large hand on the back of my head and just held me. My scream turned into sobs. I was an ugly crier. The guardian held me, crooning in my ear in that same strange language. I could feel the warm puffs of air along my neck and had to stifle a shudder. I melted. I hadn’t meant to melt, damn him, but I did, and he felt it. He grabbed my face with his big hands and lifted me to him. 
    His eyes were so green. They reminded me of a field of clover. However, I had a sneaking suspicion that this man was from much further away than the Emerald Isle. There was worry in his gaze,