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“Come, Glaine. The duke will want to hear about this.”
The green-eyed demon gives Lilith one last curious look before nodding. “Yes. I guess you’re right.” He turns to the clan leader. “Apollyon. I trust you to let us know if we’re needed again.”
“Of course.”
Lilith sidles over to her mate, taking his claw-tipped hand in one of her daintier ones. “As always, a pleasure, Glaine.”
Surprisingly, the soldier’s expression softens. “Regardless of the circumstances, it was good seeing you again, Lilith.” Turning back to Sammael, he jerks his head. “Prepare another portal. It’ll be faster.”
Once the portal winks out, taking the soldier and the mage with it, the square goes quiet. Every single one of them is watching Loki and me as though expecting his eyes to go from purple to white, and for him to go on a rampage.
But he won’t. I know my mate. The shadows are strong, but he’s stronger.
With me by his side, he’ll never go rogue again.
* * *
“On that note,”announces Shannon, “we’re gonna be heading out, too. But, first, does anyone got a pen?”
The demons gathered nearby all look confusedly at each other. Probably because ‘pen’ doesn’t have a direct translation in Sombran, so while I understand what she’s looking for, no one else does.
Except for Lilith.
“Would an ash stick work for you? I use it for lessons.”
“Maybe. What do you got? Can I see?”
Reaching into the black dress she’s wearing, she pulls out something that looks more like a used matchstick to me. A wooden base with a black tip, ashy like a struck match made up of embers, it’s about the size of Lilith’s pointer finger.
In Shannon’s grip, it looks pretty much like a pencil.
She grins at Lilith. “Perfect. Thanks.” With a grabby motion, she gestures at the book I’m still holding.
What? “I thought you said for me to hang onto this?”
“I did. I do. But I just want to see the inner cover of the book real quick. Okay?”
If she says so. With a shug, I pass it over.
“Mal, babe? Come here.”
“As you wish,” rumbles her besotted mate.
I’m glad they’re so happy together. Occasionally I would think of Shannon and how she had the book before me. I would wonder if she found her true love, and if she did, would he have been a Sombra demon. I knew the answer from the moment the two were walking around the village square, but with everything else that’s happened, I haven’t had the chance to ask her about her experience with the book.
I don’t have to. She’s fiercely protective of a demon two heads taller than her, and everything Mal glances down at her, you almost expect little red hearts to replace his golden eyes.
Shannon motions for him to stand in front of her. “Give me your back, ‘kay? I need something hard to write on.”
He does. Hefting the book up, she flips open the front cover.
I know what it says. I’ve read theGrimoire du Sombrafront to back so many times that I can probably recite a couple of the epic Sombra poems detailed in there. There are two names written inside. I never really paid much attention to it. When I ran Turn the Page, most used books came in with the names of their previous owners scrawled on the inner cover.
Looking back, I probably should’ve paid more attention to that. I might be the only human woman who lives in Nuit, but Shannon proves I’m not the only human mate.
I wonder how many of us there are?
Even better question: what is Shannon doing?
