Page 12

Demons

Aubrey

Our room is more than adequate, but being locked in this soon-to-be rocketing metal box is not the method of travel I would have preferred. Rennie looks just as unthrilled as he fusses with our things, but we both acknowledge that this journey would not have been possible in the air.

Well, with us in the air—and our delectable bunny hates planes, so…

Taking the train was less cramped than other land vehicles, but my dragon does not enjoy being caged.

There’s a reason species like Renard’s and mine gravitate toward homes with towers and turrets and balconies.

We like to escape into the sky when indoors becomes too stifling.

The cats have no such worries; they’re fine with lounging about on any structure that will support their weight.

I’m not saying that they do not relish the hunt, but for them, it’s more functional than nourishing.

“I don’t enjoy being trapped in a tin can for long stretches, either, Flames.”

My long-time mate knows my moods better than anyone, and I smile at him as I shift in the armchair. “It’s not just the dragon’s natural instincts, you know. If either of us is required to shift in defense…”

“It’ll take the fucking roof off of this thing.

” The gargoyle arranges the toiletries we’ll want later on, then turns to me with a rueful expression.

“Especially you. But this was the best option for getting to our destination without flying quickly. You were there when we discussed all the routes.”

“Yes, yes,” I say, waving my hand dismissively.

“I know, but something about this has unsettled me. Besides you checking for bloodsuckers constantly and our woman vibrating with anxiety over all the new experiences coming at her, Felix is in general mode. Fitz is bouncing off the walls. And I know that’s all fairly normal at this point, but something is bothering my dragon. ”

Bothering him enough to make my grumpiness extra prickly.

“ Oui, mon amour ,” Renard agrees. He sits on the end of the bed, his handsome face full of fondness.

“I would never tell you to ignore your inner beast. He’s seldom wrong, despite his lack of grace in communicating his thoughts.

We were planning on being vigilant anyway, and I believe Felix’s choice of accommodations was wise. ”

“It’s moderately secure. We are isolated enough for it to feel a bit safer than we would be amongst a larger crowd of other preds.

” I rub my hand on my jaw, considering what the next move should be.

“But in order to gather information from the general populace, we will need to visit the dining car.”

A light knock on the door interrupts my thoughts and smoke rings escape my nose. Rennie laughs, rising to head to the door. “You forgot we ordered refreshments.”

He’s right, but the darkness of my dragon fills my gaze as I watch him slide the door open to accept the sealed bottle and glasses.

Once the tip is slipped to the valet and he gushes his thanks, my gargoyle pads back with a smirk that is infuriating.

I give him a pointed look as he examines the seal.

“You’re paying more attention to that than you did when you opened the door. ”

“Of course I am. I could smell his intense cologne through it. This bottle, however, is sealed with wax and I would like to make certain it will not poison us or our family if we imbibe.”

Poison has been an issue in the past, and it could have killed our mate if she wasn’t oddly immune.

“You don’t have magic or a chemistry set, so I’m curious how you plan to figure out if something’s wrong.” My dry statement simply makes him grin more as he heads to his carry-on, pulling a small vial from it and wiggling it back and forth. “What the hell is that?”

“This is how I will figure it out. Watch closely, Flames.” He takes a tissue from the box on the dresser, putting it over the top of the now opened scotch and dumps a tiny bit of the alcohol on it.

With much more flair than is necessary, he opens the vial and puts a few drops of the liquid on top, then re-caps it.

“Our delectable Dolly made friends with the right ladies at Apex, and we were smart to allow them to follow. Argyle gave me quite a few of these to use to test our comestibles on the trip. Do not ask me how they work—that, I fear, is not my forte.”

I blink, then snort. “The nurses are all species who are resistant to poisons. I imagine this is some sort of concoction they crafted with…” I stop, my brow furrowing. “Well, I’m not a biochemist, either, but something in that realm.”

“Whatever it is, Argyle said it would not be one hundred percent effective, but could rule out the most common and dangerous things.” Rennie watches the tissue, focusing until the wet patch changes colors.

“And this passed so far. She also instructed me to smell things, looking for a variety of scents that might suggest toxins.”

Chuckling, I watch him hover his nose over the open bottle. “Everyone knows that cyanide smells like almonds, my love.”

“Yes, but other things as well.” He puts the bottle down and holds up a finger. “Arsenic smells like garlic, while things that are acrid smell a bit like pears. It’s not fool-proof, of course, but she passed on enough examples that I can at least try.”

Now that he seems satisfied, my unusually cautious mate pours a draught into two glasses.

His lips curl up as he brings me one, and I let him drop onto my lap.

My hand runs over his eternally mussed hair as we sit and sip together.

Finally, I say, “I didn’t know you consulted them.

You’re not… You don’t usually… This is very thorough of you. ”

“I cannot get the picture of the cats prone and our mate terrified out of my head.” Renard looks up for a moment, then sighs heavily.

“We all must take precautions because losing even one would shatter her delicate heart into pieces, mon amour . I will not allow that to happen to someone I love again.”

That’s when I realize this trip is about more than seeing his relatives or even snooping for clues—it’s the key to healing our gargoyle’s broken heart.

We stayed curled up for a little longer before we took the bottle next door.

As much as we tease my morose mate, he hasn’t been taking to the roof as much this past semester, but he also hasn’t been working out his various issues by talking them through.

I didn’t realize he was traumatized as badly by the attack on the stadium as he was, and he needed quiet time to just babble his way through the dark thoughts.

Stroking his hair and listening was the best thing I could do for Renard, and feeling the subconscious tension drain from his frame was extremely satisfying.

He was hiding this fear extremely well—covering it with boneless poses and witty quips—and I missed it.

“Welcome to Khan land, Winged Worryworts!”

I arch my brow at Fitz, and Rennie just chuckles. “Let us in, you psycho. We brought the scotch. Any idea why the eager bear left it, but not snack size’s soda with us?”

He grins crazily. “I told him if he didn’t quit looking at my mate, I’d use the corkscrew over there to uncork his eyeballs, then feed them to her while I fucked her senseless.”

“For fuck’s sake, Fitz,” Felix says tiredly from inside of the room. “ Let them in and stop terrorizing the populace .”

Renard shrugs as the tiger moves to allow him to pass. “It was fairly elegant, Raj, though I agree that alienating the staff is not a good plan.”

“She doesn’t eat eyeballs,” I grumble as I follow my mate in and immediately regret the choice. “The Abel thing was an exception. Even when we hunt?—”

“Now, now, boys,” Dolly calls as she hops up from where she was sprawled on the bed. “No chow talk in places we can’t verify are clean.”

I blink, then roll my eyes to the corners of the ceiling where she’s not-so-subtly darting her gaze. “Right. Well, it’s accurate, anyway.”

The rainbow-haired bunny comes over to kiss us both on our cheeks, looking excited again now that I shut up. “I know you brought the drinks, but I’d really like to explore. You know, just see things, since this is one of the longer legs of the rail trip.”

“Of course we can wander around, Angel,” Chess says as he joins our tightly packed group in the small living area of the cabin. “We’ll avoid the human cars, I think, out of caution. But we should be able to peek at the others, right, Felix?”

Ou r self-proclaimed Queen won’t take ‘no’ for an answer , but it’s funny that Chess thinks the Raj is the one who decides.

“Princess, if we do that, you have to let us?—”

Dolly arches a brow at him, her smirk dark as she tilts her head. “I’m sorry, Sir , but I’m pretty certain the only things I have to do are breathe and die.”

Coughing to hide my laughter, I look at the ground as the tiger sputters.

Unfortunately for him, her recent submission in the bedroom does not equal such outside of that realm.

Her compliance so far today has been out of nervous energy and now that we’re here, she’s finding her groove again.

I love that Dolly is so adaptable and resilient, but I also adore her sass and spunk that doesn’t let anyone step on her neck after her past.

“The die part worries me,” Felix growls softly. “Too many assholes are trying to speed that part up and I’m almost getting paranoid about every damn being we don’t know and trust being within fifty feet of you.”

Renard clears his throat, raising his hand.

“I get that, actually. I’ve been very… quiet about how distressed I’ve been after the attack at the Games.

My little mental breakdown in our compartment earlier brought it to the surface and…

Je comprends ta peur ? 1 , Felix. I can't think of our mates and our family being in danger while we are helpless.”

“Oh, Rennie!” she says as she rushes over to wrap her arms around him and squeeze the gargoyle as tightly as she can. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, running his palm over her head. “I did not know, either. Not really. It was a buried reaction, I think, and because I have been doing the broody belfry thing less, I missed it.”

Fitz grins, rubbing his hands together. “So you’re all on board with some creative enucleation, then? That’s fantastic because I think you’ll relish it once you get over the weird squishing part?—”

Felix pinches the bridge of his nose and Chess joins me in laughing, while Rennie makes a disgusted face.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t make our woman flinch in the slightest; no, she just turns to give him a stern look.

He grins like a serial killer and Dolly puts her hands on her hips in indignation.

“Fitzy!” I grin as our mate bounces back to the tiger to actually wag her finger at him. “No removing eyeballs for kicks. It’s just rude.”

There’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear—much less in complete seriousness.