When the Demon Calls Her Name

Evie woke up to the sharp sound of glass shattering.

It wasn’t the soft tinkle of a dropped glass, it was the violent, deliberate crash of something breaking against tile.

Her pulse spiked, and she bolted upright, the weight of sleep replaced by raw adrenaline. “Lucian?” she called, throwing off her covers.

The chill of the wooden floor shocked her toes as she hurried toward the kitchen.

The smell of brewing coffee met her halfway, but it did little to soothe her.

She found him standing amidst the wreckage.

Shards of glass glittered across the floor, catching the morning light like cruel, jagged stars.

Lucian stood motionless, his crimson eyes fixed on the mess.

His expression was unreadable—a curious mix of irritation and intrigue, as though the very concept of brokenness was foreign to him.

Evie clutched the doorframe, panting. “What the hell are you doing?”

He glanced up at her, his lips curving into that infuriating half-smile. “Experimenting.”

She blinked, the words failing to compute. “Experimenting? With what? How to give me a heart attack?”

He crouched down, picking up a larger shard of glass, turning it over in his fingers like a scientist examining a specimen.

“I’ve observed how mortals form attachments to fragile objects. I wanted to understand how they respond when those objects...fail.”

Evie stared at him, her mouth agape. “You broke a glass on purpose? To test its resilience?”

“I applied pressure,” he said, his tone maddeningly calm. “It shattered.”

“Of course, it shattered!” she snapped, throwing her arms up. “It’s a glass, Lucian. That’s what they do!”

His brow furrowed slightly as if he were genuinely considering her words. “Then why rely on tools so prone to failure?”

“Because not everything is built for your... your absurd demonic strength!” She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to summon patience from a well that was already running dry. “Just clean it up.”

Lucian straightened, still holding the shard of glass. “Clean it up?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice firm. “You broke it, you fix it. There’s a broom in the corner.”

For a moment, he simply stared at her, as though the concept of cleaning was as alien as the human world itself.

Then, with a dramatic sigh, he set the shard down and walked toward the broom, his movements slow and deliberate, like a king lowering himself to scrub the floors of his castle.

“This is beneath me,” he muttered, grasping the broom as if it might bite him.

“Welcome to life on Earth,” she said, smirking.

Once the kitchen was glass-free and Lucian had endured her relentless supervision, Evie decided it was time to take him outside.

“Why must we go out?” he asked as she tugged on her jacket.

“Because you’re going stir-crazy here,” she replied, pulling her hair into a messy bun. “And clearly, you need a crash course in the human world.”

Lucian smirked. “I’ve survived Hell. I think I can manage Earth.”

She gave him a pointed look. “Tell that to the café barista you scared half to death last week.”

“She was incompetent,” he said flatly, following her out the door.

“She was a college student having a bad day.” Evie locked the door behind them. “There’s a big difference.”

---

The park was alive with movement. Joggers pounded the paths, their rhythmic steps blending with the chatter of parents pushing strollers and the excited barks of dogs chasing balls. The air smelled of damp grass and blooming flowers, with a faint hint of roasted nuts from a nearby vendor.

Lucian’s eyes roamed the scene, taking it all in with a mix of curiosity and disdain. “Mortals and their chaos,” he murmured.

“It’s not chaos,” Evie said, leading him toward an empty bench. “It’s life. You just have to look closer to see the patterns.”

Lucian didn’t reply, his gaze locking on a child chasing a red balloon.

The string slipped from the child’s fingers, and the balloon floated skyward.

The boy froze, his eyes wide with devastation.

“Strange creatures,” Lucian said, his tone almost contemplative. “So fragile, yet so persistent.”

Evie tilted her head, surprised by the softness in his voice. “You’re not wrong.”

Their walk took a turn when a frisbee landed near Lucian’s feet.

“Hey, can you toss that back?” one of the teenagers called, jogging toward them.

Lucian picked up the frisbee, his fingers tracing its edge as though it were some ancient artifact.

“Lucian,” Evie warned, seeing the glint in his eye. “Just throw it normally.”

He ignored her, his smirk widening.

With a flick of his wrist, the frisbee shot through the air like a missile, slicing across the park before vanishing into the horizon.

The teenagers stood frozen, their mouths agape.

“Holy crap!” one of them shouted. “How did you do that?”

Lucian turned, his expression serene. “Practice.”

Evie groaned, grabbing his arm. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“Why?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Because ‘practice’ is not an explanation, and I’d rather not get arrested for suspicious activities.”

As they walked away, Evie couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of it all too much to contain.

“What’s so amusing?” Lucian asked, glancing at her.

“You,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re terrible at blending in.”

“I disagree.” His voice held that familiar smugness. “They were impressed by my strength.”

“Yeah, and now they probably think you’re an alien or a government experiment.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “Mortals always search for the extraordinary in the mundane. It’s one of your more endearing traits.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. “Thanks, I guess.”

---

That evening, they sat in the living room, the warmth of the day lingering like an echo.

The world outside had quieted, leaving them in a companionable silence.

“I have to admit,” Evie said, breaking the stillness, “you’re adapting better than I expected.”

Lucian leaned back, his crimson eyes gleaming in the dim light. “I told you, little one. I’m a fast learner.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “Just... try not to destroy anything else, okay?”

“No promises,” he said, smirking.

Evie rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

For all his arrogance and quirks, Lucian was becoming... familiar.

And that, she realized, was both comforting and terrifying.