Page 71 of Demon Food

He blinked hard at the knife for a long time. Then he shook his head like he was trying to shake it clear. “You know, it’s always been difficult to believe they really existed. But I guess this is proof, huh?”

“Oh, they definitely existed,” I said as he sat upon the bed, gently placing the knife onto the nightstand. “Nearly drove us into extinction.”

He dipped a washcloth into the basin of water and wrung it out.

“They were brutal. As brutal as us. Fierce and mesmerizing fighters.”

He was squinting at my wound, his lips pulling downward into a frown. “And yet, they still lost the war.”

“Well, yes, but not because they couldn’t fight.”

He gently dabbed the washcloth against my side, trying to wipe it clean with the easiest of strokes, his frown only deepening at whatever he saw. “Then why?”

“Because of you, of course.”

“Me?”

“Well, not you. Humans. They lost because of the humans.”

The look he was giving me… It was like he had no idea to what I was referring, but that’d be impossible. It was the most prominent theory out there. Everyone knew what really happened with the angels.

Then it hit me.

The reason he looked lost was because he probably was. All the books on the Great War were banned from humans, just like all the philosophers had been strictly limited to printing their theories in Vultaen only.

I wet my lips. “What do you know of the Great War, Feloré?”

“What do I know about it?” His gaze searched the walls. Then he shrugged, returning to my side. “Just that the vultae won because they’re stronger. And that all the angels and a massive number of people got killed.”

And there it was. Gods, it almost saddened me to tell him. “What if I told you that humans did not fight in the war?”

His eyes narrowed. “Yes, they did. They fought alongside the angels.”

“Humans didn’t fight,” I said, shaking my head, “because the angels wouldn’t let them.”

“Wouldn’t let them?” His head jolted back an inch. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You should’ve fought by their sides. Together, you had the numbers and the heart to beat us, but they wouldn’t allow it. Refused to let harm come to you. They wanted every last one of you coddled and protected. It was their one fatal flaw.”

He blinked. “That cannot be true.”

“Oh, it is,” I said, nodding. “Not only that, but they locked you in camps and cages where you couldn’t leave if you wanted to. They did it all in the name of love. They did it all to keep you safe.

But what they actually did was hand us an already imprisoned population of humans. Not much has changed.”

He didn’t budge. He just stared blankly at me like he was staring right through me.

“Are you okay, my love?”

He suddenly inhaled deeply, as if awakening from a daze. “Yes. Yes, it just reminded me of someone, is all.”

“Who?”

“Hmm? Oh, no one,” he said, dipping the cloth back into the water, pinkening it with my blood. “No one important.”

I narrowed my eyes. A part of me wanted to pry, wedge a finger inside the crack in his shell until it shattered to pieces, but I had to be patient. One didn’t win the secrets of a fox by force. That took cunning.

I nuzzled against the pillow, sucking in a drag of smoke. “You are quite the doctor, hmm?”