Page 108 of Terror at the Gates

“You just don’t want to give up warm towels,” I said.

“You won’t either once you try it,” she said. “I’ll put one in now.”

I didn’t argue, because it honestly sounded wonderful.

So did a shower.

Coco vanished to retrieve a towel. I left my room, pausingjust outside to open the door to the laundry closet. The new dryer was bright white with a large window and sat on top of our yellowed washer. It had a digital display and buttons, not dials. It was also much larger.

“Isn’t it nice?” she asked.

It was definitely a far cry from the one Coco and I had pieced together at the junkyard. I’d used my magic to coerce the owner into helping us scavenge for parts over the last few years. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked far better than making our way down to Sumer just to do laundry every week.

“It sings to you when it’s done,” she said, nudging me out of the way so she could throw my towel in.

I smiled. “Coco, are you in love with a dryer?”

“I’ve never had anything this nice, Lilith,” she said. “I mean…not that it’s mine.”

My heart squeezed at her comment. Sometimes, I forgot that Coco hadn’t grown up with the same comforts I had, and I hated myself for that.

“Itisyours,” I said, looking at her. “I won’t say anything to Zahariev.”

There was a moment of silence, and then she said, “He asked about you. I told him you were sleeping.”

I wondered if he believed her. I doubted it.

“Thanks,” I said, pausing to take a breath. Suddenly, I realized why it was easier to be out in the night, hunting Esther’s killer, whether it turned out to be the demon in Liam’s room or not, because in here, within the walls of my apartment, the reality hit too hard. Pressure built behind my eyes, and I swallowed hard. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Holler at me when you’re ready, and I’ll bring your towel,” Coco said.

“Go to bed, Coco,” I said. “It’s late.”

“It’searly,” she said. “And it’s fine. I’m awake anyway.”

She seemed decided, so I didn’t argue and made my way into the bathroom. I scrubbed every inch of my body, feeling as though I was covered in a thin layer of grit. I was careful with my burn, though it stung under the steady stream of water.

When I was finished, I cracked the door and called to Coco. She was right about the warm towel. It was heaven, especially after the shock of leaving the scalding shower and stepping into the chilly bathroom.

I kept it wrapped around me until it was cold and I was dry, using the time to bandage my burn with gauze and medical tape.

When I was finished, I changed into a long-sleeved top and shorts.

Before climbing into bed, I emptied my backpack, storing the dagger in the top drawer of my bedside table. The gems in the hilt glared back at me.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I said aloud, realizing I sounded a little irrational, but I couldn’t help it. I felt like the thing was judging me for having used it on a demon without knowing anything about its origin. Usually, that wouldn’t bother me, but this dagger was different. It had magic apparently only I could feel, and it was stalking me, having returned to me twice, once through the enforcer and then from the bottom of the canal. I couldn’t even escape it in my sleep, because it starred in my nightmares.

I missed the days when I was disturbed only by the occasional sex dream in which Zahariev usually appeared, though I should probably refrain from allowing my mind to go down that road given how he’d acted when I’d kissed him.

“If you can call that a kiss,” I muttered to myself.

It hadn’t at all been what I’d dreamed—a basic peck, abrush of the lips. I hated that he was so restrained, so withdrawn. How had he managed to put a lid on his desire? I’d felt it fully against my own.

“Why are you even thinking about this?”

“Thinking about what?” Coco asked.

I jumped and shoved the drawer closed, turning to look at her, hiding my hand behind my back. Her eyes darted to the nightstand. I recognized the suspicion darkening her gaze. I was going to have to find a different hiding spot for my blade.