Page 145 of Sorrow & Strangers

“So listen . . .” she begins. “I think you should come to the gym with me.”

I recoil. She wants to take me around other people?

Devour. Feed. Consume.

“No,” I say, turning away from her, not wanting her to see the demon behind my eyes. “It’s not safe.”

“It is,” she insists. “It will just be us.”

She gently rests her hand on my arm, and my eyes dart to the ugly, jagged stitches that are peeking out from the top of the bandage, marring her skin with my anger. My fault. If I had control . . . I wouldn’t have hurt her. In the past, fighting was the only thing that helped me think clearly. But I couldn’t travel to Hell anymore. Ironic, since angels are supposedly banned from it, unless they are one of Aunt Azrael’s messengers, her angels of death. Demons are supposed to be welcome. I am supposed to be welcome, but if I step foot in Hell now, I’ll never be able to leave.

Trapped. Again. Just like back then.

“No one?” I ask. “On the Al—” The name gets strangled in my throat, and I cough. “Swear?” I choke out instead. Guess I can no longer invoke her name as a demon. I don’t even know what demons use in its place. Though I can imagine Uncle Lu demanding they use his name. Sorry, Uncle Lu, not going to happen with me. Too weird.

“On Con?” she asks, cupping my cheek. My chest aches at how much she reminds me of Mom. I doubt she even realizes how often she mimics her, how often Connor used to mimic her. She’s left little marks on all of us, enough for me to feel her even if I can’t sit with her like this anymore. She would never again be the one to cup my cheek, not anymore.

“Do you swear it on Con?” I ask, my voice heavy with grief.

“I swear on Con that it’ll be safe,” she assures me.

Unease shoots through me. This might be a terrible idea, but I would be lying if I said that leaving the house and working out properly doesn’t appeal to me.

“If you don’t feel safe at any point, we’ll leave,” she promises, and I know she means it.

Her pale eyes glint with fierceness, and I feel the demon go on alert, watching her carefully.

I nod, silently agreeing.

“Great! We will go early tomorrow morning. I’ll go make us some protein shakes,” she says, smiling brightly.

“Beware,” the demon warns as we watch her walk away.

I blink. Beware? Beware of Summer?

She is exceptionally bright and has a natural affinity for runes that outclasses not only other students, but even the professors. Even the fae professors. In the beginning, I thought she just really liked school and learning, but then I noticed the way her eyes glowed when she learned, when she was feeding her power with more knowledge.

There has always been a presence around Summer, something that I’ve always wondered about. She seemed to open up to Connor, but I still feel like we’ve only seen the surface of her, and my instincts tell me that Summer is dangerous. Even as an angel, I was wary of her. She sees too much and says too little, and now that I have Fallen, I can see her power more clearly. The darkness she harbors is more apparent, and even though the demon may crave it, he still eyes her with caution.

I think at our core, we are too alike. The difference is, I wear my bruises and scars on the outside as much as possible. Summer carries them on her soul. Knowledge may feed her power, but her pain and trauma nurture the darkness.

She is an ocean, perfectly peaceful when the weather is fair, but the moment the sky darkens with a storm, she turns deadly. She can easily wipe clean the entire island of Avalon if she feels like it. We are all just lucky she has yet to feel like it. If the realms only knew what they had been spared when her grief at losing Connor turned inward, they would kneel at her feet. Because if she ever set her will toward destruction . . .

No one would survive.

True to her word, Summer wakes me up early the next morning for the gym. I keep my doubts to myself about going, especially considering she looked so happy when I agreed to go, but my stomach twists at the thought of leaving the house. There might be other people on the way to the gym. Would I launch myself at them? Would I tear into their flesh with my fangs and try to devour their souls in a single gulp? Up until now, I’ve prevailed over the demon’s desires, but my instincts are new and often overpowering.

Summer sprinkles a little more brimstone in my shake before screwing the lid onto the tumbler and handing it to me. She looks better. Her eyes aren’t as empty, and some of the weight she lost is back, but there is a new hardness to her. It is a sharp, brittle edge, like jagged glass, with the potential to bleed both herself and her foes.

“Ready?” she asks, her hair swinging in a high ponytail.

I nod silently, and despite the twisting in my stomach, I try to hide my discomfort behind a chug of the protein shake.

The first step out of the house feels like Falling again, as if the ground beneath me will vanish, and I’ll be sent tumbling down to the next realm. Summer senses my unease as we start across campus and reaches out to slip her arm into mine. She holds tight, probably worried I’ll bolt back to the house. Her fear isn’t wholly unfounded because, as trapped as I felt inside the house, I miss the security and familiarity of home. Or maybe she can sense the battle I am fighting against the demon. He is hungry, alert, and prowling, searching for a nearby victim to devour.

Hungry. Starved. Need to feed.

A sharp breath escapes me when we arrive at the gym to find it empty as promised. Summer taps my arm reassuringly before letting go of me, but she stays at my side as I relax a little. After all the changes in the last few months, I welcome the familiarity. At least this place has stayed the same.