Page 107 of Demon Touched

Actually, yes, of course he would.

“Er, please don’t cancel on our account,” I say, throwing Jeremy an apologetic look. “In fact, maybe you should go. It’ll raise eyebrows if you don’t—and they might come here to check on you,” I say, then I shift, nervous about asking the next question. “Are they…?”

In that way of people who’ve lived together a long time, Evie understands what I’m asking without me needing to finish the thought.

“They know I’ve seen you and had a letter. I’m sorry, I had to tell them something. I didn’t get into any of the nephilim stuff, but I may have hinted about your scavenging. They think you’ve run off and joined some gang.”

This startles a laugh out of me. “That’s probably for the best. If they knew what I’ve actually done in the last six months, Ada might have an aneurysm.”

Evie’s eyes flick to Syrus, her face a little tense with worry, then she focuses on me again.

“Well, it was enough for Mother to swear off having anything to do with you. It’s safer that way. They had too many questions after they found out about Hathwell.”

I stiffen. “Found out what about him?”

Evie’s hand shoots to her mouth, and she looks guilty again.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Leah. I thought you’d know. But of course,” again she glances at Syrus, “you haven’t been in Pax. Um…they found Hathwell three months ago in the Sideris. They said he’d been there for a while—a terrible accident.”

Syrus and I exchange a loaded look. We were both there the day I killed Hathwell, and I certainly didn’t drown him. But if whoever disposed of the body beat it up enough first—made it look like it really had been dragged around in the river’s currents—perhaps that would hide the stab wound and starvation he endured.

Evie reads the surprise on my face and chews on her lip, something she’s picked up from me. “I’m glad you didn’t know about Hathwell,” she says. “I was worried that⁠—”

She stops herself, and I’m glad, because I think I know the direction of her thoughts, and she wouldn’t be totally wrong.

“Never mind.” She shakes her head. “I don’t want to think about it. I’m just glad you’re here now, and safe.”

Evie and Jeremy bustle around, getting ready to go, and then I see them out the door. When I close it behind them, I slump against the frame, letting go of some of the tension in my muscles.

“Your sister is a lot more polite than you,” Syrus says smugly.

“Fuck off,” I say, and he laughs, which makes me feel lighter, even if I have proven his point.

We decide waking Viz by trying to move him upstairs wouldn’t be very kind. He seems perfectly comfortable on the couch, and Syrus promises to check on him later like Martha ordered. Instead, we investigate the other sleeping options. The nursery is a tiny box room, big enough for a cot and a narrow single, which Evie will probably use on the many night feedings to come. The attic is surprisingly clean and warm, and we find some bedding and blankets in the storage boxes by the spare mattress.

Syrus and I don’t discuss who’s going to sleep where but together start pulling the blankets out and tucking them around the mattress. Maybe my brain is just fried from everything we’ve been through—breaking the bond, the Seraph Seat attack, using my magic to undo Ajax’s spell, and getting Viz fixed up in my own sister’s house—but the sudden, intense domesticity of the moment gets to me. I look up to see Syrus—the demon lord of Malice—carefully folding and tucking a sheet corner, and I start giggling.

He looks up, confused, and the bewildered look in his eyes just makes me laugh harder, until I’m collapsing on to the mattress clutching my stomach.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, but my laughter’s gotten to him already, and he’s smiling. Or maybe it just makes him happy to see me happy.

“N-nothing,” I say, catching my breath. “I’m feeling a little loopy after today, I guess.”

“I wonder why,” he says, sitting down beside me, close enough that my thigh is touching his. My eyes drift to that spot. We’ve been casually touching since we had to flee the Seraph Seat. Syrus kissed me when he thought I was going to leave him behind, and I let him. Now we’re not in crisis mode anymore, it feels like I should have thoughts about that—conflicted, tangled-up ones.

Except I really don’t want to. I want to just sit here on this mattress and feel him beside me and not think about tomorrow.

But because he’s as annoying as he is beautiful, Syrus doesn’t let me get away with that.

“What?” I ask, when I see him watching me.

“When you said we’d leave in the morning…are you planning to come with us?” he asks.

I twist uncomfortably, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m not sure.”

This is what I meant to Evie when I said I had to figure things out. Now that I know I can hide my wings, I could pass for human in Strata, but the ephilium will surely send people after me now they think I’ve been working as a demon spy. Like Syrus said, the Concords don’t protect mixed breeds like me. But I don’t belong in Infernum, either. And if I go there, I’ll always have to hide a part of myself from every person I meet.

I don’t say any of this out loud. I can’t make Syrus be my sounding board as I decide whether to choose his realm or this one—to give him what he’s been asking for but for none of the right reasons. I think he can take a wild stab at what I’m grappling with right now, anyway.