The shopping went smoothly. Drew even bought Artem a sweater he took a shine to, never mind the fact it would be pointless once he got back home. If he got back home. Back outside, Artem rubbed the knit hem between his fingers much the way he had with the dog’s ear. That had been for comfort, this was because he now had something that was his and his alone and that felt nice. While Drew searched for his keys, Artem checked out their surroundings. The early morning sunshine had vanished behind a blanket of gray clouds and he suspected it meant more snow. Oddly enough, he was fond of the stuff, kicking at a nearby snow pile.
He felt a tug, snapping his head around, almost instantly picking out a soul that beckoned to him. The man’s aura was dirtied, sullen, and came with the stench of one who would find he had a one-way ticket to an unhappy afterlife. Almost in a daze, Artem headed in the man’s direction, the demon buried in his core wanting a taste of home, a touch of the sin that ran rampant down below. As he drew closer, he picked up on the man’s intentions, on why he seemed to be shifting his weight from foot to foot while watching a lady load her car.
He was a red handed thief, literally, his nasty aura glowing the brightest around his hands. It glowed quite vividly in another spot as well, one suggesting far more sinister things than robbery.
Slipping into his demon skin, the knit cap perched on his head scratchy against his horns, Artem sidled up to the guy. He stood just behind the man, the voice over his shoulder, whispering in his ear. “You want her purse, right? All the nice things you’ll find inside, like her wallet with her address and her house keys, because those are the things you really want.”
The man nodded his head.
Artem could feel Drew’s eyes on him. “You want to venture to her house and…” He touched the man’s arm, walking his fingers up from wrist to shoulder. “Touch her, you want to hear her screams.” Artem watched the lady in the parking lot, waiting for the right moment. “You like it when they fight. It excites you.”
Drew had started in his direction.
As had a rather large SUV.
“Do it,” whispered Artem, putting as much power into the phrase as he could muster. “Do it now. Steak her purse.”
In a trance, the crook stumbled forward, completely unaware of the vehicle bearing down on him. The driver honked his horn and slammed on his breaks at about the exact same time Drew reached Artem’s side. A woman screamed as the crook was hit, knocked off his feet into the slush.
Artem smiled with satisfaction. “Serves him right,” he muttered.
Drew grabbed him and practically dragged him back to the sedan. It wasn’t until they were both inside that Artem gave a whoop of joy. “Did you see that? Ha! Just tapped into the ole demon energy inside and wham! I’ve still got it.” He laughed, giddy, wishing Cyril could have seen him. It might have garnered him some favor. “Talk about a rush.”
“Artem.”
There was an edge to Drew’s voice that brought him up short, dampening his happiness. “What? Did I do something wrong? I thought…”