Page 25 of The Demon’s Due (Bedeviled #5)

We three humans left behind strained to hear what was going on.

“No angry voices,” Olivier said quietly, tossing his napkin on the table.

Sachie tilted her head, listening. “No broken furniture.”

The silence from the other room grew more loaded and ominous.

I tried to reach Ezra on our psychic phone line, but the jerk didn’t answer.

“Why is your face twitching?” Olivier’s eyebrows drew together. “Are muscle spasms a side effect of being enthralled?”

I pressed my hand to my cheek, flustered that I’d been making faces during my communication attempt, and about to clarify that he didn’t need to be concerned.

Olivier leaned forward, his eyes wide. “Have you suffered any other symptoms? Brooding majestically? Compulsive cape swishing? Transforming into a bat during sneezing fits?”

Sach buried her face in her boyfriend’s shoulder, her shoulders shaking.

There was a burst of annoyed Spanish from the living room, and then Ezra called my name.

Olivier and Sach were on their feet before I was.

“Worried you’ll miss the bat transformation?” I said.

“Wouldn’t you be?” Sach retorted.

I stomped out, preferring hungry vampires over these two comedians.

Darsh and Silas were crammed on the plush velvet sofa together. Silas had his arms crossed and his chin set at a defiant angle, while Darsh rested his head back, his eyes closed.

Ezra stood stiffly between the mantel and a hideous rubber plant that refused to die.

He pointed at me when I entered the room.

“Do I have your permission to draw on the thrall to boost my healing magic since they’re adamant about not going to the Hell?

If they’re going to stay put and help, then they better remain in a condition to do so. ”

I exchanged bewildered glances with Sachie and Olivier. “You can do that?”

“He has no idea if he can,” Silas said, “and knowing Ez, he won’t stop trying until he’s drained himself of all magic. He’ll drain you too. No.”

Red washed over Ezra’s eyes. “I’m not going to jeopardize myself or Aviva. I understand my limits.”

“You understand them,” Silas countered, “you just ignore them when anyone you care about is involved.”

Ezra snarled at him.

I stepped between the two best friends, my arms outstretched. “Everyone take a deep… Aw fuck. Just calm down.” I looked from one to the other. “Ezra is fully aware of what’s on the line right now. If the thrall facilitates that and heals you, then I’m all for it.”

Especially if this extra transaction drained the damn thing and Ezra and I could get back to normal faster.

“You say that now,” Silas said, “but once may not be enough. He could heal us and we get reinfected. The Luce is magic; there aren’t antibodies built up through exposure.”

“I’m sure once will do it,” I said with forced cheer.

“If it helps,” Olivier said, “remember that the Luce is tied to humidity, and we had a heavy spell of rain. There’s dry weather forecast for the next few days. The info was distributed to the Trad officers too,” he explained at my confused look.

“That means that even one healing session buys us time to find a proper cure,” Darsh said. “I’m selfish enough that I’ll risk the Prime’s well-being for another chance to fight.”

Silas rubbed a hand through his hair, gray strands breaking off and falling from his fingers. “It’s what’s best as an operative, but it’s not right to choose between us or Ezra and Aviva.”

“Then go back to the Hell,” Ezra growled. “You still have a room there.”

“Here we go again,” Darsh muttered.

“Absolutely not.” Sachie stomped over to Silas and cuffed him across the head.

“You self-sacrificing noble bloodsuckers are giving me indigestion. Ezra and Aviva are adults giving informed consent. I respect your decision to stay put, so accept you need this help to remain in the fight. Put on your big-boy pants and let Darsh’s selfishness rub off on you. ”

“Thank you,” Darsh said. He screwed up his face. “But rude.”

Sachie sighed. “You’re allowed to put yourself first, Silas, and I don’t mean as an operative.”

“I’d listen to her,” Olivier said.

“Yes, because I am wise beyond my years,” Sach said.

“That and you have that look presaging pointy things in your hands.”

She gave him a two-dimple grin. “That too.”

Silas threw up his hands in defeat. “I’ll agree to it on a one-time basis only.”

“But—” Ezra began.

Silas fixed him with a cold stare. “One. Time.”

Darsh smirked. “Hot.”

Silas rolled his eyes at his boyfriend but also blushed again.

“We don’t have the lock locations, Zee,” I said. “Much as I loathe going along with Delacroix, we have to abide by his decree for now. A one-time Prime magic infusion to Darsh and Silas shouldn’t weaken Delacroix’s position, but we can’t risk more than that.”

“What decree?” Sach said.

I told them everything that had transpired on the yacht.

Silas frowned. “You shouldn’t risk anything where that son of a bitch is concerned.”

Ezra jabbed a finger at his friend. “Don’t even think about backing out because of this. Aviva and I will rethrall?—”

I did a double take. Wait. What? Nonononono .

Darsh grimaced. “Fancy branding doesn’t change what you two are doing.”

Ezra mimed for him to zip it. “I’ll heal you two in the immediacy of that re-up. Given the boost, siphoning off some of my Prime magic to you two definitely won’t affect the Hell enough to piss Delacroix off. Avi, you agree?”

Five pairs of eyes swiveled to me.

Confess that I’d rather have a rectal enema than say yes? Stellar choices: major selfish bitch or major resentful bitch.

The strain of playing multiple chess games without even the release of intimacy with Ezra made me weary down to my bones. Yet, whatever I chose now, I’d stand by what I told Ezra. That I made my decisions freely.

“I’m not redoing this enthrallment.”

Darsh smiled.

“Then I decline the offer of Prime magic,” Silas said. “I won’t chance Delacroix coming after either of you.”

“The Luce is growing to potent strength and more and more of those locks are failing,” I said.

“Delacroix will be focused on getting the prisoners to his turf before their jailers can recapture them. He doesn’t have time for either stampeding demons or a hit on me to change the détente with the Maccabees.

And as for Ezra, any move against him risks Natán marshaling the vamps.

Even if healing you drained all of Ezra’s magic on the security system?—”

“Which it won’t by a long shot,” Ezra said.

I pointed at him with a nod. “I truly believe Delacroix won’t risk his end goal by coming after us or doing anything to harm other humans.”

“All right.” Silas crossed his arms. “But push yourself past any sane limit and I’ll stake you myself, pendejo .”

Ezra’s lips twitched. “Noted.”

Sachie and Olivier said they’d clean up brunch to give us privacy and left.

Ezra crouched down next to the sofa that our friends sat on and bit into his wrist, offering the blood first to Darsh. “Just for the pendejo crack, you can wait your turn,” he snarked at Silas.

Darsh latched on to the skin, drinking so deeply that Ezra grimaced.

The thrall tugged hard.

I sat down in the closest chair with wobbly legs. My skin felt like it was being scraped with the blade of a knife, but not in a dangerous cutting way. It was soothing; familiar almost.

Cherry blinked awake, reaching for it.

Suddenly, a change rippled through Darsh; his weathered face grew luminous again. It was like watching ice melt in reverse, smooth and fluid.

Ezra’s brown skin tinged an ashy gray, but he didn’t pull back. “Avi?”

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, electricity flooding my veins.

The winter shadows stretched longer across the hardwood floors, and the fabric grains on the armchair burned against my fingertips.

Silas’s concerned face snapped into sharp focus, but his voice sounded like waves crashing onto a shore.

I could count every mote of dust dancing in the pale sunlight streaming through the window, and the creaking floorboards rolled like we were on a ship. I swallowed against the taste of seawater.

Silas put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

I clasped it with clawed fingers, wanting an anchor against feeling vitally, almost overwhelmingly alive.

Darsh’s brown hair darkened from white, and his posture straightened proudly. When he leaned back, his mouth was smeared with Ezra’s blood. His clear gaze met the Prime’s and he nodded.

Ezra nodded back, then touched my leg, his brow wrinkled.

I twirled my hand to indicate he should move on to healing Silas. Give me more of this rush, baby, stat.

Ezra hesitated a moment, then shoved his wrist at the other vampire. “Drink.”

Silas took a tentative sip, worried eyes trained on his best friend.

Ezra swore under his breath, clasped the back of Silas’s head, and forced his wrist against the other vamp’s mouth.

The transformation started immediately; Silas’s body filled with renewed strength as his freckles emerged like constellations against his skin.

Cherry Bomb reached hungrily for more of the dark note flavoring the thrall with Ezra, and I released a blissed-out sigh. Where had this been all those other times?

Ezra wasn’t having a similarly good time. Sweat beaded his ashen forehead, his shoulders sagged lower with each passing second, and his fingers trembled against Silas’s head, even as his jaw remained set.

Silas wrenched free, looking like his normal healthy self, save for his crimson lips and the deep furrow between his brows. “What did you do?”

Ezra sat down on the ground at his friend’s feet. The ugly gash on his wrist was almost gone, but he was slumped over, drained. “I healed you.”

Darsh handed Silas the damp washcloth he’d gotten.

Cherry retreated to sulk at the loss of the incredible magic rush we’d experienced.

I rubbed my arms, feeling the scratchy titch of my scales through the fabric. “You drew on the security system of the yacht, didn’t you?”

“No,” Ezra said. “You did.”