Page 41 of Demons Dig Donuts

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Indy batted his lashes. “So, murder trial? Is that what’s happening?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not… worried about that?”

“No.”

“Okay. Cool. Should I be worried about that?”

Nothing.

The floors dinged by.

The silence grew.

More floors.

Why the fuck did a demon with incredible power not simply poof them to the correct one?

Indy could be very calm under pressure, and he honestly considered it a requirement for his particular line of work. He could handle Mr. Heiss being a raging dick and not speaking to him because Indy was quick, smart, and confident that he could handle any situation no matter what they were walking into.

But the elevator suddenly pitched backward.

Indy lost his balance, his heart thudded, and his chest grew tight as his stomach flip-flopped like he was going over a big dip on a roller coaster. Mr. Heiss held his shoulder to steady him, but the sensation in Indy’s chest grew.

It was clenching, hot, and…

It hurt.

Oh no.

No, no, no.

Was this it? Was it the cancer?

A wave of piercing pain like a barrage of rusty daggers tore through him, and it was great enough to buckle his knees. He tightened his grip on Mr. Heiss’s arm, his voice rising in pitch as he snapped, “Hey! Asshole! What the fuck are we doing? Are you even going to take me to get the shit I need or are you just fucking with me? Do you have any idea how important this is? To me? Like, right fucking now?”

This might be it.

Dead in an elevator with this absolute cock tease bastard of a demon.

No, no, fucking no.

Indy’s rage morphed into fear, a twisted weight dragging down his gut like a jagged stone. The sound of his voice was a distant roar of thunder in his ears no matter how loud he yelled, and he knew he was panicking. He was panicking, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He’d been holding himself together fairly well considering he was actively dying, but now he could feel the seams of his confidence unraveling in the wake of his agony.

He was helpless.

Powerless.

His chest constricted further, his blood boiled, and the edges of his vision fuzzed over. The elevator was suddenly too small, and he looked around wildly for any way to escape. He needed to get out of here. He had to get back to Gammy. She had to save him with what they had back at the apartment. He’d summon another demon, grind up that stupid talking skull, or—

Mr. Heiss grabbed Indy’s throat.

Indy froze.

Mr. Heiss didn’t squeeze. He didn’t press down. He was merely holding Indy, his voice low as he commanded, “Breathe.”

Indy breathed.