Page 24 of The Demon’s Due (Bedeviled #5)

“I already ordered T-shirts,” Sach said brightly. She held up a mug. “Starter caffeine?”

Shaking my head, I beelined for the open bottle of champagne on the counter, dumping three times the accepted amount for a mimosa into a flute—and forgoing the orange juice.

“I used a beer glass for mine,” she said.

I sagged back against the counter. “Why didn’t you give me a heads-up?”

“It wouldn’t have helped,” she said flatly. “Trust me.”

I opened my mouth to argue otherwise, remembered the stunned Maccabees seeing the dead vamp whose condition they’d been briefed on, and chugged more champagne.

“I told Darsh we’d need more bottles,” Silas said.

I choked on the booze.

He seemed to cave in on himself, his normally imposing frame withered like a deflated balloon.

The shirt usually strained by his massive shoulders now hung loose, hollows had formed in his cheeks, and his dark copper hair was threaded with gray.

Even his freckles had faded, as if the Luce was draining his very essence.

Silas shot me a ghost of a smile that made my heart twist; another larger-than-life part of him reduced to a shadow.

Ezra hovered behind him like a nervous mother hen.

Darsh trotted into the room, saw how Ezra was behaving, and snorted. “Told you,” he said to Olivier. “Etransfer me the ten bucks. I don’t take cash.”

“Pendejo,” Ezra said without any heat.

Smirking, Darsh handed out our marching orders of what to carry into the dining room.

Silas was given a heavy platter of misshapen waffles, which Ezra immediately tried to take from him.

“Don’t make me stab you.” Silas shakily hefted the dish, holding it above Ezra’s head.

Was it wrong of me to hope that the Prime would jump for it like a child going for candy?

I picked up the large bowl of freshly whipped cream. “Has anyone heard from Nasir?”

“No word yet,” Sachie said, pouring coffee into a carafe.

Sitting around the large round table in the eating-designated room with its royal purple walls, we threw on a playlist of ’90s greatest hits and did our damnedest to make this feel like just another Sunday.

Olivier entertained us with a bizarre case involving smuggled surfboards full of contraband dog medication, and Ezra and Darsh debated the best blood bars in Monaco versus Lisbon, going so far as to throw rock paper scissors over it.

All of it was an amusing avoidance of why our brunch felt like a wake.

Sach shared choice screenshots from the Ezracurricular fan boards and a couple of gossip site items about how Ezra had dumped his rumored ballet dancer girlfriend, Irene, for a mystery woman.

They were accompanied by a photo of when Ezra hugged me on the Pont des Arts surrounded by love locks and looking very sweet. If you didn’t know what those locks hid, that was. Though my face wasn’t visible, it would only be a matter of time before someone leaked my name.

Like it or not, Ezra and I had gone public. Well, I had a world to save; let people post their comments. I honestly had no fucks to spare for the haters. As for the others? People longed for an escape right now and I didn’t mind being part of that—provided it didn’t directly impinge on me.

“If their speculation takes their minds off all the other shit going down in the world,” I said, squeezing Ezra’s hand, “then have at it.”

My boyfriend relaxed long enough to give me a small smile, then his attention was back on the other two vampires.

Silas and Darsh barely even tried the Golden Blood, preferring to fire back small unmarked blood packs. Apparently, Maccabee healers were working around the clock to provide vampire operatives with these magically boosted shots.

Silas swallowed with a grimace. “Tastes like a rattler rolled in a tumbleweed and died in my mouth, but it keeps our strength up.”

“Yeah, you and the Rock could be twins,” Sachie teased, stress-eating her fifth spicy ginger cookie. Her leg bounced so rapidly under the table that she rippled her coffee like a Jurassic Park re-creation.

Olivier pushed the plate of cut fruit in front of her before she could polish off an even half dozen cookies. She glared at him, then stabbed a kiwi slice.

“You’re better-looking than the Rock, babe,” Darsh said, smacking his boyfriend’s cheek.

Silas blushed. He was so pale that his blush was like the barest twinge of pink on a white petal.

It was the first moment since I’d returned that they were the fabulous couple they should be, except it felt discordant given their other interactions. Was it real or just a product of mutual imminent death?

My fork scraped against the ceramic with a harsh screech.

“All I want to do is lie down and sleep.” Silas poked the empty blood pack, his hand trembling slightly. “I’m not sure how much good this is doing. It’s like fighting the pull of an hourglass.”

“Hey!” Darsh elbowed him. “I’m the pessimistic one. Your role is sunny-eyed optimist who I tease mercilessly.”

“Guess my naiveté only goes so far.”

“It’s not naiveté,” Darsh said viciously. He grabbed his phone and silenced the playlist. “This sad white boy music is getting on my last nerve.”

“Did you hear about the Gryphon Gang?” Sach asked me, referring to the Vancouver branch of a US-based vamp mob.

“What about them?”

“Gone,” Darsh said. “The Luce got some of them and the others pulled up stakes and moved into a Seaside clinic.”

“I heard it was the one in LA,” Silas said.

“What’s happening at our Seaside?”

“Hard to say.” Darsh absently tore open his fifth boosted blood pack. Nothing said “we’re screwed” quite like vampires mainlining boosted blood like college kids chugging caffeine during finals.

Ezra tracked the motion with narrowed eyes.

“Security is insane at the clinics,” Darsh continued. “They might be curing vampires, or draining their blood to send back to Babel, or letting them fight to the death in gladiator bouts in bathroom stalls. We have no clue what’s happening inside or what Natán’s up to.”

Ezra didn’t pipe up with his theory about his dad consolidating power over vamps in order to force a shift in power away from Maccabees and Trad authorities. His silence spoke volumes about how worried he was about our friends.

“In more hopeful news,” Silas said, “my software has almost decoded the notebook you gave me, Ez.”

“The one you took from Burning Eddie?” Olivier said. Off Ezra’s nod, he leaned closer to Silas. “Well, hurry it up, man. We could all use the good news most definitely found in a demon’s secret diary. Was it encrusted with glittering blood crystals?”

“In the shape of a heart?” Sachie said.

Silas chuckled. “Good thing Orly’s party planning is already in the works. I told her to go for an end-of-the-world theme.” He reached for another blood pack.

Ezra slammed his hands on the table. “That’s it.”

“I was kidding,” Silas said.

“The two of you are going to the Copper Hell right now. We’ll get you safely within the security system so that when I heal you, it’ll stick.”

Darsh nudged Silas. “He lasted longer than you said he would.”

“We’re not leaving, Ez,” Silas said.

“Yes.” He stared at them with the full weight of a Prime decree. “You are.”

“I’m in charge of the vamp situation here in Vancouver, and I’m not running off the second things get tough,” Darsh said.

“No?” Ezra said. “Because you were ready to do that the other day. Given your histories with the Maccabees, neither you nor Silas owe them shit. And with everything else going down, no one would come after you if you left.”

“And yet, here I am, sticking around.” Darsh took Silas’s hand, receiving a sweet smile and a squeeze of his fingers in return. “We can still help. As long as that’s true, neither of us are going anywhere.”

“Enjoy playing cavalry for the ten minutes you have left,” Ezra said, dripping sarcasm.

I dropped my knife on my plate, mid–jam smear. “ Ezra! ”

Sachie crossed her arms; Olivier pressed his lips together.

“Unlike some,” Darsh said coldly, “Silas and I choose to stick by our Maccabee oaths.”

Silas shot Ezra a disappointed look.

My boyfriend shoved his chair back and strode out without a second look back.

“Daddy’s angry,” Darsh said with a shiver.

Silas peered at him. “I can’t tell if you’re scared or turned on by my best friend and Avi’s boyfriend.”

“Scared of course.” Darsh shook his head in an exaggerated motion, mouthing “Totally turned on.”

And though my faint smile as the two of them left the room to talk to Ezra was real, the humor didn’t mask the cold dread settling in my stomach.

Between my friends falling victim to the Luce and the people I cared about most at each other’s throats, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were all coming undone, piece by piece.