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"That is not making me feel better!"

"It was more curious than hungry."

"You never thought to mention this?"

"It seemed unnecessary."

"Unnecessary?"

"I persuaded it to hunt elsewhere."

"You persuaded a mountain lion?"

"I growled."

"..."

"..."

"It was quite convincing."

I stared at more dark tendrils of smoke that might be him. For a long moment, neither of us spoke. My chest felt strangely tight. All this time...

That's when it hit me. "You've been protecting me."

The dark tendrils retreated.

"I was fulfilling the terms of the binding."

"But..."

I shook my head slowly. "For an entire year."

"It gave me something to do."

Those six quiet words hit me harder than anything else he'd said all evening. Not I had to. Not It was my duty. Just... it gave me something to do.

And suddenly, the image of a terrifying infernal demon standing invisible in my tiny house... wasn't nearly as funny as it had been five minutes ago. It was lonely. The words settled somewhere deep inside my chest. For an entire year... I'd thought I was alone.

When work had gone sideways. When I came home too exhausted to cook and ate cereal for dinner. When I'd sat on my porch after another resident passed away, wondering if I'd made any difference at all. I'd believed there was no one. No one who saw. No one who cared.

And all that time... an ancient demon had been there. Watching. Protecting. Waiting. Not because he had to. Because... it had given him purpose.

I looked at the slight swirl of dark fog. Nothing about him made sense anymore. From what I'd seen earlier, he looked like every nightmare humanity had ever painted onto cathedral walls—aside from his extreme handsomeness—but he had horns and wings. He should've terrified me. But he didn't, not really. Actually, all I could think about was the mountain lion and the rattlesnakes.

A laugh bubbled up despite myself.

"What?"

"You relocated rattlesnakes."

"It was effective."

"You know..." I studied the swirling dark particles that seemed to be getting thicker, for another moment. "I don't think you're what I expected."

His voice turned a few shades darker. "You have no idea what I am."

The quiet certainty in his voice erased my smile. "So tell me."