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Crichton lifts his hands to Cosmos. “I did not intend to cause your bride any harm, and I have not done her any, sir,” he says. “Your quarrel is not with me, but with the burden a husband must bear. The fear of loss of the one he loves.”

I thought for sure he was going to use his flaming head trick, but instead Crichton uses eloquence on Cosmos. It’s super effective. Cosmos lowers the sword and extends an arm toward me. I go to him. Crichton has made me feel sorry for Cosmos, and that takes some work, especially when he’s standing there, sword drawn, wild expression on his face.

He looks at me as I approach him and sees that my little journey through the broken car window was not without consequence. My hands have been cut in several places from the glass shards, and my knees didn’t escape damage either.

“You’re bleeding,” Cosmos growls at me. “Why did you do something that stupid?”

“Why did I do something that stupid?” I shout at him as my temper flares. “I’m not the fucking moron who smashed glass everywhere for no reason. What did you think was going to happen? We were going to live in the car forever, me and Crichton, me toasting marshmallows on his demon head? We were going to get out. You were, as usual, an asshole.”

Bryn looks thoroughly impressed. “This young lady is going to save me a lot in the way of breath if she keeps going that way.”

Thor is smirking too.

I never expected to find allies here. I’m not surprised that these people find Cosmos nearly as impossible as I do. His recklessness is absolutely tedious.

He picks me up and carries me off inside. I don’t think he liked having an audience. Anita is lurking by the front door as we go in. She gives me a little wave as I am carried over his shoulder. I give her a little wave back. A half hour ago I didn’t want anything to do with these people, and now I am taking a lot of comfort from their combined presence.

He takes me to his room. The room I’m supposed to be sharing with him. With the bed we are supposed to also share as husband and wife. It certainly is large enough for more than two people, a massive four-poster construction. A fire burns in the grate of a ginormous fireplace. That should make the place feel luxurious and cozy, but all it really does is remind me of Crichton’s head bursting into flame mid-drive.

My husband — if demons are real, I suppose that must be real too, carries me through to the ensuite bathroom. It is well furnished, but old. Direview has a slight air of ruin about it. It may be old and grand and Gothic, but it is not fully inhabited. How could it be? It is so large, and as far as I can tell, there are only three people living here, along with three demons.

Cosmos sets me down on the rim of a clawfoot tub and begins to look through the cabinet for medical supplies. He is not in a good mood, but it almost feels like his bad mood has nothing to do with me.

“You were, as usual, completely disobedient. Don’t try to run from me, Elise. I will not tolerate you putting yourself in danger.”

“But you will stuff me in a trunk and shatter glass all over a car I am in.”

He sighs and almost seems to deflate. “I’m not good at being careful. I’m sorry.”

Cosmos

I have never had to be careful before. I am not sure I know how to be careful. It is so frustrating. All I want to do is protect Elise, but at every turn she makes it difficult for me to do that. And she is irritatingly adept at the art of argument, which means I feel on the back foot.

“You have to stop running away. I know this seems crazy, but I do not waste my time kidnapping and marrying random women just to drag them back here to this shit hole.”

“I know.”

I’m in the process of inspecting her hand for any remnants of broken glass — fortunately, the car windows have the kind of glass that turns into glass pebbles that still cut but don’t gash the way most glass would.

“Wait. What? You know?”

“I can tell you don’t like it here," she says. “The first thing that happened to you that I saw was Bryn putting you in a headlock. And they don’t seem to mind listening to me tear strips off you.”

“I’m sort of the black sheep,” I admit. “Most of the Brotherhood are priests…”

“Brotherhood?”

“Did I not explain that part to you?”

She’s shaking her head.

“I thought I had. But it has been a very long day. The Brotherhood is what we call our organization of demon hunters. A lot of us are priests. I’m not. I’m just a psychopath with a knife, as far as they’re concerned.”

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