He tried to imagine the look on his parents’ faces if they knew everything they’d been taught in their precious church was a lie. They’d probably scream “Blasphemy!”, spittle flying from theirlips, their eyes red and bulging with rage as they flung their Bibles around.
It was supposed to be a funny image, but it made Saint’s heartbeat trip with instinctive fear, which he didn’t understand. It wasn’t like his parents had ever been physically abusive.
“Wait, you said humans whose souls areownedby a demon?” Saint said. “So, like ...” He frowned in confusion, unsure how to phrase his question.
“Human souls are immortal. And when people make deals with demons, sometimes they sell them their souls.” Knight sounded odd again, but in a ... sexier way. Saint refused to look at him. “I’ve heard of humans even giving up their souls in exchange for nothing at all.”
Saint couldn’t help but glance at him this time, eyes wide with shock. Who would willingly sell their soul to a demon for no apparent reason? Andwhy?
Knight’s lip quirked. Like he’d heard the silent question, he said, “I think it’s romantic.”
“Of course you do.”
Knight’s grin widened. “It’s akin to a demon giving someone their True Name.” His eyes darkened like he was imagining it.
Saint had to look away again, hating himself for his endless curiosity. “True Name?”
“All demons are born with one. Just like selling your soul to a demon will give them unimaginable power and some sort of ownership over you, a demon giving a human—or another demon, it doesn’t have to be a human—their True Name affords the recipient some ownership and control over them.”
“So ...” Saint glanced at him quickly. “If you gave me your True Name, I could ... control you?”
“You could bind me to you. Make me do your bidding for the rest of your natural life and beyond.”
Saint felt a rush of mixed emotions. The way Knight said it, his voice all husky and low, made it sound like it was the height of seduction. But owning someone like that—controlling their will? No, thank you.
“Is it the same with owning a soul, then? You get to control the human, too?”
Knight chuckled softly. “Unfortunately not. Owning a human soul gives demons incredible power and the fact that no other demon can do anything to the human, like feed on them, and that’s about it.”
Saint shivered again. If human souls were immortal, did that mean demons could essentially feed on them for eternity? Nowthatsounded more like the Hell he knew. Perhaps with all the iterations of their holy scriptures, the truth had gotten mixed up along the way.
They made it to the primary school before Saint could give in and ask more questions.
“Remember not to disturb or distract me,” he whispered under his breath once he was inside the guardhouse. “Go—I don’t know, hover above the gatehouse like a gargoyle or whatever.”
“You got it.” Knight gave him a mock salute.
Saint’s lips twitched but he forced himself not to smile. He hated that despite his wariness and lingering disbelief that Knight was real and here and he’d made a deal with him, that he felt so comfortable in his presence already, like they’d known each other for ages.
Because you have.
Saint shoved the thought aside and took a deep breath, this time, determined to draw a line.
The morning rush seemed to go by without anyone noticing Knight’s presence. He’d dutifully taken a position up on the roof of the guardhouse as Saint had suggested, even though Saint hadn’t really meant that literally.
The afternoon was blistering. At some point, Saint wondered how Knight was faring. Was he bored? Did he feel the heat? If Hell was the same as earth, did that mean it had a similar climate? Did they have countries and such? He hated that he was so curious.
Saint uselessly used his palm to fan his face because it was just so hot. Fuck Nigerian summers, honestly. Then, like Knight could somehow feel his frustration—or see him through the freaking ceiling—during his and Samuel’s lunch break, Saint suddenly felt like his entire body had been plunged in an amazingly cool pool.
Samuel made a noise of relief. “Oof. Feel that breeze? God don hear my prayers.”
“Abi, o?” Saint replied, forcing a laugh. They weren’t really allowed to speak in pidgin, but did so anyway when they were alone. They were more co-workers than friends, but there was something about speaking pidgin that gave their interactions an air of easy camaraderie.
Saint thought of how considerate it was that Knight had made sure Samuel was cool, too. He couldn’t check to be sure ithadbeen Knight, because he didn’t want to look odd to Samuel.
Eventually, parents began to arrive just before the last bell rang, and then the kids all began rushing out of the school.
Samuel focused on opening and closing the gates for the few cars allowed inside, while Saint focused on making sure the children were reunited with the right caretakers, and there were no other problems.
