Page 50 of Zodiac Demons

“Is that what you’re taking from this?” That only made him shake his head and scowl. “How do you justify being who you are? The way you hurt people without any regard for their feelings, so long as the end result works out for you, the way you go through life, casually committing violent crimes as a way to blow off steam, and the way you legitimately don’t give a fuck who gets caught in the crossfire? How?”

“Because I’m a monster.” I lifted my chin and drew a slow breath through my nostrils. I did care. But a lion didn’t have the luxury of concerning himself with the opinions of the sheep when his survival depended on their deaths.

“Monsters who live in human society aren’t above basic decency. And I don’t think you are either.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t eat at you? Keep you up at night? Every time she’s beneath you in bed, you don’t think about the ways you’ve betrayed her? How do you not hate yourself, knowing what you’ve done?”

I frowned. I was being indignant, but it wasn’t like he was wrong. I just… didn’t have any way to justify my actions anymore, so I said the only thing I could say in my own defense.

“A wolf isn’t programmed to feel guilt when it eats a rabbit, so why would I, a fucking vampire, feel guilt for taking anything I want and need from those I was born to prey upon?” I was being willfully obtuse, because those were the hard questions I didn’t like asking myself, and at this point, I had to just own them. “We’re both demons. We always have been. We always will be. I’m not ashamed that I embrace the dark sides of myself that you’re so afraid of.” This conversation was fucking stupid. He was so high and mighty, when he wasn’t any less fucked up than I was. “You’ve been spending so much time hiding in plain sight among humans, you’re starting to sound like you’ve forgotten you fucking aren’t one.”

“This has nothing to do with human morality—”

“Doesn’t it though? What’s really on your mind right now? Because I don’t think this is the topic that’s got you on the brink of death.” I interrupted him. I wasn’t interested in a lecture. I got enough of those from my father.

“Nothing. Just go. Enjoy your birthday month.” He turned his head away with defeat.

“Or you could talk to me for once—”

“Go.” He repeated. “I have a lot to think about.”

Exasperated, I headed toward the door, not sure what else to say to him anyway. Somehow, of the million times he’d rejected or berated me throughout our lives, this felt worse. I thought by coming here and confiding my own fears with him, maybe we were starting to become more open with each other, but apparently that was a one sided affair. This relationship would never work, no matter how many years I kept trying to force it.

It was such a confusing feeling to want to punish him for treating me so badly in the past, yet also have this ridiculous, lingering hope that we had started to build some sort of bridge between us.

But that was just a dream.

Which was fine. I had Lila, I would have Ceto, and he could figure his shit out on his own.

Chapter 23

I’d thought we were all finally in a good place after the night at the resort, but we were moving into August and suddenly Marcus was being weirdly distant, to the point he wouldn’t even tell me when his birthday was, when it was theoretically sometime within the next couple weeks. I could have been today for all I knew.

I frowned at that, then shook my head and carried on with refolding clothes on the activewear display that had been messed up during open hours at Threads of the Magi. With my Mom back home and the summer rush in full swing, I fortunately was back at work with Ceto, staying distracted by the constant barrage of customers, while he tried to keep up with demand and production in the back room. Though now that my shift was through and it was closing time, he was strangely on edge.

Had I fucked up somehow? Was communication a dead art? Had it ever been alive at all in Graves? One could only wonder.

“Are we putting out some of the fall collection tops yet?” I asked as I smoothed out a sports bra on the display table. I’d offered to help with closing for once, despite his insistence that I go home, but I really wanted a chance to talk to him one-on-one without the constant interruption of customers.

Ceto, who’d been transfixed on the cash register, startled with his entire body before he composed himself and answered. “One more week, then we’ll start with the full coverage athleisure and light sweaters.” He was counting out the day’s money and going through his normal ritual. “You really don’t need to stay for closing. You should get back to the dorm while there’s still a little daylight out.” He insisted again. Though it wasn’t like it was anywhere near a full moon, so I didn’t know why it would matter if I was out after dark. I suppose there were a lot of different monsters that haunted Graves, but it had always seemed like a safe enough city to me. Nicer than the one I came from, anyway. Maybe he really didn’t like having me here after all.

“You seem really stressed, and I feel like that’s my fault, so I was kind of hoping we could clear the air first?” To go from a girl with no men to juggling multiple men—none of which who liked each other, I gathered—was like taking on the role of the village therapist. I had three mate marks with permanent implications, so a straightforward relationship was out of the question, and we were going to talk about it, dammit.

Ceto exhaled roughly, adjusted his glasses, then resumed counting the money. He didn’t say anything until he had fully finished his task, leaving me in awkward silence for something like seven minutes and forty-two seconds for anyone who was counting. Which I was not. The tick of the clock was just very pronounced.

“This is all a lot,” he finally said without the need for additional nudging. “Look, Lila, let me just explain and get this over with. I’m—” The sound of the back door of the shop opening interrupted him. His whole body went rigid, and he blanched so hard his dark complexion was nearly as pale as my deepest tan. “You should go, and we should talk about this later,” he insisted again in a rushed and hushed tone. “Now would be a good time. Like right now.”

I cocked my head to the side in confusion, then glanced at the door to the backroom. “Is someone else here?” I asked with a scrunch of my nose?

“Now, Lila.” He rounded the counter, and grabbed the knob to the back door, only to have it pulled from his hand when someone else tugged it open from the other side. Ceto stumbled, then caught himself and took a step back.

And in walked a man who was several inches taller than him, similar in complexion, but extremely different in his build. He was the same shade of browns and blacks, with shorter hair and eyes of an odd shade of green, nothing like Ceto’s glassy platinum. Otherwise, they had similar cheek bones, and a quality to their facial features that made them look related.

“Baby brother, I’m so glad I was able to catch you before you locked yourself away for the night.” The larger man rustled Ceto’s hair with something vaguely resembling affection. He looked at Ceto, then he looked at me. I wasn’t sure how to react, other than by acknowledging the intense shot of stress that was radiating through our bond in a way that felt barely restrained and borderline suffocating. “Oh, you have a guest?” His lips upticked, and the sense of tension increased. “She’s cute.”

“She was just leaving.” Ceto spoke quietly, and I took the hint to not ask.

“Right, I have to get back to the dorms. Curfew and all.” My laugh was so forced and nervous, it was painful to listen to. “Sorry for intruding.” I half bowed and started toward the door.

“Wait, you could at least introduce me first. Pops told me you hired some help, but no one seems to have met the mystery girl, and I was hoping if I stopped in unannounced, I might actually get the chance.” He placed a hand on Ceto’s shoulder and nudged him out of the way. I met the man’s eyes out of social habit, and I felt that full arrest of my body on a level more unyielding than Ceto’s paralysis gaze, even under the height of the moon. Any chance of skittering off was long gone, as he approached me with his captive glance.