Page 144 of Sorrow & Strangers

“Nothing,” she says, blinking up at me, trying to adjust from the dreamscape to reality.

I spread my hands, cupping her ass. “You said my name, moaned it, actually.”

Her cheeks flush a little, and she clears her throat. “No I didn’t,” she says, pushing against my chest, trying to get me to put her down.

Nice try, brat.

Shifting my hold on her, I free one hand and wave it, igniting a rune on my skin. It’s just a minor spell that projects images, including sound, in the air beside us. She watches with wide eyes as the last few minutes are replayed. The moment she hears my name leave her own lips, she starts to struggle in my hold. I let her slide down my body until her feet are back on the ground.

She steps back, intent on putting distance between us. “Shit, I need to get home,” she says, looking around as if searching for a way out.

“I can take you,” I say, opening the portal again.

She shakes her head, taking another step back. “I’m good.”

I chuckle as she nearly throws herself through the portal. “You’re free of our oath for today. We trained while you slept,” I call, deliberately taunting her.

She breaks into a run, and I laugh for real.

Chapter Sixty-Four

Rafe

Iam sitting on the floor of our living room, every muscle in my body screaming as I try to finish my workout. Screeching agony makes my back spasm, interrupting my efforts. I gasp a string of curses, feeling the still-healing wounds tear open.

It was an achievement to make it downstairs without Alice and Summer hovering over me, clucking like hens around a broken chick. I know it’s because they care and are worried about me, but it can be a little overwhelming. It’s improved a bit since I have been able to move around by myself, though I still catch both of them watching me from the corner of their eyes.

Rolling onto my side, I struggle through the worst of the pain, my breathing ragged and short. The front door swings open, and I curse. I don’t have to look to know it’s Summer. The demon sensed her as she approached the house.

Exploit the darkness. Malevolence lurks. Feed it, let it consume.

My hands curl into a fist, and I dig my claws into my palms, forcing the voice back into the box I keep it in. She still has stitches in her arm from the demon’s attention. I have to get strong so I can keep him under control. I can’t hurt her or Alice. Honestly, I don’t want to hurt anyone. Even if I’m a demon now, I won’t be a monster.

“Rafe,” Summer calls, panic lacing her voice at seeing me on the floor. I grind my teeth, resentment churning in my stomach at being so weak.

“Could be strong. Demons belong in Hell,” the demon whispers.

No. I don’t know when the demon started whispering to me, but once I healed enough to walk around, I started to hear its voice in my head. Its silky voice whispers instructions, commands, and demands horrors from me that I refuse to provide. Just another way I was changed from the Fall. It doesn’t matter. It can whisper all it wants. I’ve heard my own voice in my head for years, demanding far worse things of me.

Just die. No one would miss you.

“It’s fine,” I lie badly.

She ignores me, just as I knew she would. She rushes to my side, helping me into a sitting position. Blood and sweat drip down my back, and I can’t stop my shudder of pain.

“Can you draw a rune on it?” I pant, my vision flashing white.

Summer nods and lunges to her feet. She sprints upstairs to my room, coming back with the obsidian dagger. She gathers some of the blood dripping down my back on the edge of the blade.

Fuck, being a demon is a pain in the ass. For anyone else, the runes could be drawn with the caster’s blood, and Summer could use any runic language. But not for me, not demons. She has to use my blood, and only Infernal runes have any impact. It’s a language I cannot even begin to make sense of. If it weren’t for Summer and the doom master, I would be completely fucked with healing.

Summer concentrates, silently drawing the rune on my back. The pain lessens immediately, and I blink back tears of relief. As messed up as Summer is, her rune work is flawless. Maybe it’s the realms attempting to even the scales for her. Great power equals great trauma. You can’t have one without the other. I would know.

“Thanks,” I whisper, my voice strained. “I miss when it was easier to do a sit-up.”

Summer sits back on her heels next to me, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. I tense slightly, preparing myself for the lecture I am sure is coming. I know I deserve it. Alice and Summer have been warning me for days that I am pushing too hard, but I hate being so weak. It makes me feel defenseless and stranded . . . not stranded. Trapped.

Just the thought makes my throat tighten. Sweat beads on my brow, and it’s not from the pathetic excuse of a sit-up I’d attempted.