The Devil You Know by Richard Levesque Read Free Book Online

just come up, and the house was
quiet, all the other revelers still sleeping off the night’s debauch. He had
caroused as much as anyone else, more even, but his body did not crave sleep
the way others did. Instead, it had the strange, empty feeling the humans
called hunger.
    Quickly,
he rolled over, the body’s legs tangled in the sheets. The woman in the bed
beside him did not stir. Lucky for her, he thought. Like a petulant child, he
was likely to snap at anyone who got in his way. He admired her body only for a
moment, not wanting to think about how much he had enjoyed it last night. Sex
now would only keep him from satisfying his body’s other appetites, and if she
woke up, he knew how cloyingly she would latch onto him, begging him not to go
if only for a few minutes. The thought alone made his anger rise, and he
imagined himself sprouting claws and raking them across her flesh.
    Another
thought followed quickly—Julian would be mad. Unless it could absolutely
not be helped, he had insisted that they not kill anyone, especially not here
in the house. The image of Julian angry cowed Ezgeroth immediately, and he
forced himself from the bed before his urges could overtake him.
    Naked,
he took a deep breath in the hallway outside the room and walked toward the
stairs, taking in the scents of liquor, sweat, tobacco smoke, and sex as he
went. His hearing was far more acute than any human’s, and he could hear
sleepers in the rooms around him as he passed by. He smiled to think of all the
debauchery that had happened the night before. How many new souls in peril? he wondered. How many regrets? How many broken promises and hazy recollections? It
was all too wonderful to consider, and he smiled widely as he went down the
stairs.
    The
rest of the house seemed as quiet as the upstairs. A few lights had been left
burning, but Ezgeroth didn’t need them to see, his pupils wide and round like a
cat’s as he took in the spent liquor bottles and spilled food on the floor. A
few people slept on divans and overstuffed chairs, oblivious to him.
    The
lights were off in the kitchen, and he left them that way. Opening the
refrigerator, he found stacks of food left over from the night before. Some
members of the wait staff must have made an attempt to preserve it before the
party had degenerated completely. Ezgeroth reached inside indiscriminately,
pulling out chicken legs and pieces of ham, small sandwiches and meatballs in
sauce. The more he ate, the more he wanted, his appetite fueled by the food he
was tasting; he suddenly wanted to gorge himself, wash it all down with
whatever wine he could find, and then race back upstairs to the woman in his
bed.
    He
was so focused on his gluttonous orgy that he did not notice the approaching
footsteps until the lights in the kitchen suddenly switched on, and he jumped
and spun around. He saw the woman in the same instant that she let out a little
scream, doubtless shocked to find a naked man in the kitchen, a drumstick in
his hand and unidentifiable food smeared around his mouth. She was one of
Julian’s housekeepers, dressed in a black maid’s uniform with a white hat and
apron. He had probably seen her around the house before, but had not noticed
her; or rather, he had forced himself not to notice her, as Julian had
forbidden them from molesting the staff. But now she was here, alone, in a
house filled with such deep sleepers that none were likely to interrupt. He was
instantly hard.
    She
had averted her eyes the moment she saw him, and now turned quickly to go.
“Wait,” Ezgeroth said quietly. “Don’t go. Not yet.” She was young and pretty,
slight of build and short with brown skin, curly black hair, and big brown
eyes. As commanded, she stopped herself from turning away and looked back at
him—a bit shyly at first, looking only at his face, but then letting her
eyes drift lower again to the rest of his body.
    “That’s
it,” Ezgeroth said, dropping the chicken leg and wiping his