Page 49 of The Demon’s Due (Bedeviled #5)

I phoned Maud, her squealed “We are so badass” the most beautiful sound in the world.

“We are rather,” I laughed. “Now that this is over, what do you think about some quality sister time? I’d love to see Hong Kong.”

“We’re going to eat our way through the city.”

“Does ‘we’ include Adrian?” I teased.

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on. I only have a list of a hundred and seven questions prepared to make sure he’s worthy of my little sister.”

“Trip canceled.”

“This is going to be so much fun.” I told her that I’d figure out my vacation time but that it was a date.

“Freak!” The man’s taunt was accompanied by a shove. He had a good half foot and sixty pounds of muscle on me. “Go back to whatever demon hole you crawled out of.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ezra tense, but he didn’t move.

“It’s actually a lovely condo in the west end,” I said. “But yes, it’s been a long day, and I’d like to get home.”

I pushed past him. I was never going to get the entire world on my side and that was okay. I had the ones who mattered.

“Aviva?” Jordy Green timidly stepped into my path, not quite meeting my eyes.

He shifted from one foot to the other like he’d been here a while, gathering up the courage to talk to me.

His beard was growing back in, but he’d lost weight, and there were circles under his eyes.

“I came today to find you and say I’m sorry.

I fucked up our friendship. Could we try again? ”

He’d been manipulated by Rukhsana, promised by the demon that she could make him an infernal. I hadn’t been as close to Rukhsana as he was and yet her betrayal had devastated me.

Luckily for him, today was a day of resets.

“You’re buying the first donut,” I said. “And it better be the good stuff.”

He crossed his heart. “Scout’s honor.”

“Are you doing okay?”

He shrugged. “Some days are better, some worse, but your mom found me a good therapist and that’s helping.”

Sachie called my name, and with the promise of being in touch soon, I hurried over to one of the buses to go back to HQ.

Champagne flowed on the ride, both celebratory toasts and for our dead and wounded operatives around the world. Vancouver hadn’t lost anyone, thankfully, but a couple Red Flames were in critical condition.

Marilyn raised a glass to me, which was heartily supported by everyone except for Gemma, who rolled her eyes.

“You’re going to be insufferable now,” she said.

I grinned. “Only to you.”

We may have reset the world, but it was nice to know that some things never changed.

The next few days were a whirlwind. Olivier was released from the hospital and Sachie invited him to recuperate at our place for a few days.

I didn’t have a problem with that, but Ezra was staying with us, and I wasn’t sure how comfortable Olivier would be around vampires right now.

If it was hard for him, he didn’t show it, much to his credit. Especially when Darsh and Silas showed up to have a commemorative drink for Natán.

Michael cracked open the Glenfarclas with Keira, who’d met Natán and Eva a few times way back when.

To be clear, my mother had done more than crack it open; she’d actually taken a day off to recover from her hangover, though that gossip didn’t circulate, as no level threes wanted street duty in the cold.

The news that did send shock waves through the Maccabees was the resignation of the entire Authority Council. Michael’s place on it was assured.

I’d miss having my mom as the director here, but I was thrilled that she’d steward our organization from this point on.

Between the Luce and the Endless Night, earth had lost a lot of its vampire population, though Nasir wasn’t the only one who came back once the rifts to Babel were stable once more.

Michael publicly declared she’d be establishing a think tank with leaders and innovators in the Trad, Eishei Kodesh, and vampire communities to forge a bright path forward for us all.

It garnered enough curiosity, even with the vamps, that many opened discussions with her about the role they could play.

There was no discussion for my boyfriend. The second Ezra learned about it, he offered his services. Michael made him chairman.

When I told Ezra how proud I was of him, he confided that I’d inspired him to share more of his true self with the world.

I jokingly suggested launching a yarn line.

His eyes lit up. “Now who’d have superior merch? The Knitting Knight,” he mused. “Yarn King? Never mind, I’ll come up with something brilliant.”

The world would lose its collective mind seeing Hot Prime Vampire with knitting needles in his elegant hands. Social media would implode with thirst posts about tension techniques. God, what had I done?

“You’ve been weighted down with nicknames for so long,” I said insistently. “Do you really need another one?”

“Every nickname I’ve had was given to me by someone else.

It would be fun to choose one for myself.

” He smiled. “Besides, it’s not about that.

It’s about taking a page from my girlfriend’s book and living authentically.

I’m a Prime who knits, and I’d like to share that with other vampires or anyone who feels they have to keep their favorite hobbies a secret.

And it’ll be a fun way to destress from the think tank.

” His eyes widened. “What do you think about Count Cashmere?”

“I think you need to keep working on the branding, but I love that you want to inspire people to live their passion.”

Spook Squad had a long meeting when Nasir got back, after which Silas announced he’d be remaining here as a permanent member of the team.

Surprisingly, even the Brink respawned into all its fucked-up glory, supe-vultures and all.

It would be some time before I was ready to face that wasteland again. Ezra planned to go back and forth between Babel and Vancouver, but I had no plans to visit him in the megacity. I had Hong Kong to explore with my sister and that was quite enough excitement for me.

While the Brink was back, the Copper Hell was gone. The yacht had vanished, and Ezra couldn’t open portals anymore—especially not any to the demon realm.

Maud hadn’t heard from our father either.

I sat with my conflicted feelings around his disappearance for a few days. My life would involve much less torture and mind games without him around, but he had his moments with his funny underwater photography and dry sense of humor.

Granted they were few and far between, but still.

I went on a lot of runs during this time.

Ezra purchased running clothes so he could come with me. Generally, we set out along the seawall headed for the forest trails in Stanley Park: the same routes I’d taken to hunt shedim for Cherry.

Tonight, the air was crisp off the water, with a typical January mist hanging over the beaches.

Our footsteps echoed on the concrete path until we hit the trails, where the towering cedars sheltered us from the worst of the damp.

The forest was quiet except for my breathing and the soft thud of running shoes on dirt.

Finally having a running partner felt good, but having it be Ezra put a bounce in my stride. I couldn’t help smiling as I glanced over at him in his new gear, both of us falling into an easy rhythm together.

Every time we rounded a corner and I got to show him another favorite spot, I experienced a little bubble of joy. Even the familiar path was better with him beside me.

Two nights before I was due to leave for Hong Kong, Ezra accompanied me to the lookout on Burnaby Mountain. We found a bench overlooking my beautiful city and poured glasses of excellent Merlot.

“To Daphne.” I held the glass up. “I’m sorry that we never got to this drink together and that I didn’t come back and visit you after we first met.

” I looked up at the stars twinkling in the cold night.

“It sucks that you had to make a deal with my father to escape your situation and die in such a violent way, but I hope you’re resting in peace and happy. ”

Ezra clinked his glass to mine. “To Daphne.”

Finally, I was down to the last thing to cross off my list before my departure: attend Orly’s “We Saved the World and All We Got Was This Lousy Party” bash here in Vancouver.

Her good friend, Astriid, the single-monikered vampire singing sensation, was performing in town, and Orly had planned the party so the location worked for her friend’s attendance.

Though I was told this in the strictest confidence.

Hilariously, Orly told both Ezra and Darsh separately that the reason for holding the bash here in Vancouver was because that’s where they were.

Sachie and I had been running around all day trying to find outfits for the Doomsday Black Tie dress code.

She’d gone to pick up a medieval knight’s costume with armored shoulder pads while I went home to get dressed in a black ballgown with torn ruffles and tiny crystals sewn into the bodice that I wore with combat boots and a utility belt.

“What jewelry do I accessorize this with?” I said, walking into the living room.

Ezra and Olivier, both dressed in intentionally distressed tuxes, looked up from their game of Scrabble and shrugged.

“Very helpful, boys,” I snarked. “Thank you.”

“You look like paradise at the end of the world,” Ezra said.

I blew a raspberry. “Too little, too late.”

Sachie burst through the door. She had a large shopping bag in one hand and a much smaller box in the other. “This came for you.”

The return address on the box was burned off.

I grabbed a utility knife from the junk drawer in the kitchen, slit open a cardboard flap, and started laughing.

“What is it?” Ezra entered, followed by Sachie and Olivier.

I shook out the red Flaming Flapjacks T-shirt with the dancing pancake logo on it. “There’s something else here.” I dug through the tissue paper and pulled out a tiara bejeweled in the finest paste gems. “I guess he really did it. Daddy Dearest is king of the demons again.”

Ezra grimaced. “Does that mean he’s still in our lives?”

I twisted the tiara to catch the light, sending prisms along the wall. “Maybe this fake crown is his way of saying goodbye.”

“Uh, Avi?” Olivier leaned in, eyeing it. “I don’t think this is fake. Those diamonds look real. So do the rubies.”

Ezra caught it before it hit the ground in my shock. “He’s right. These are real.”

“What was Delacroix thinking?” I said. “I can’t wear a small fortune’s worth of jewels on my head.”

“Sure you can.” Sachie propped it in my hair. “Very pretty.”

“I’ll need bodyguards.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “If anyone gets the jump on you, go demon on their asses.”

I examined it in my bathroom mirror, turning my head from side to side to make the light catch the gems.

The tiara really was very pretty. And the perfect accessory for tonight’s party. I was royalty, after all.

I went into the living room to wait with Olivier and Ezra for Sachie to get ready.

“You done yet?” Olivier called out.

A soft clanging preceded Sach into the living room. She’d enhanced her knight costume with a bandolier of daggers.

“Are those real?” Ezra said.

She shot him a contemptuous look. “Are Aviva’s jewels real?”

He held up his hands. “I did not mean to doubt you.”

“You found the blade with the red handle,” I said. “Where was it?”

“The cactus planter.”

“That thing needs to die,” Olivier said ominously. “I swear it fires needles.”

Sach nodded. “You’ve got to give it a wide berth.”

We headed over to Darsh’s (and now Silas’s) place for some pregaming. The door was unlocked.

Darsh called out for us to assemble in the living room, then he sent Silas out as if down a runway, to the strains of “I’m Too Sexy.”

Silas stomped into the room in time to the beat, his cheeks bright red.

The rest of us whistled and cheered at his duster that was more burn marks than leather, chain mail shirt, and bolo tie with a bloodred stone. His Stetson had been stripped down and reconstructed with leather strips and brass tacks, matching the brass toes on his cowboy boots.

Darsh appeared in the doorway, draped against the wood frame like liquid sex. He wore a skintight black tactical jumpsuit adorned with asymmetrical pieces of plastic riot gear. A few panels of the jumpsuit had been cut out and replaced with delicate black lace.

Tossing his hair off his shoulders, he strutted around the room, posing poutily in front of each of us.

Silas got a twerk, which made his cheeks blaze.

Then it was our turns.

Ezra tried to refuse, but he was booed loudly and made to go first. Rolling his eyes, he stood up, immediately found the best light, and threw poses like adjusting his small spiked cuff links and running his fingers through his hair.

Silas peered at him. “Are you going through the moves you were taught for that Spanish Vogue cover?”

Ezra glared at him and sat down.

Olivier, as the new guy, was allowed to walk the runway with Sachie. He proved himself an excellent addition to our motley crew, throwing James Bond gun poses while Sachie brandished daggers. They ended by circling each other, then Olivier grabbed Sachie and dipped her in a hot kiss.

When they came up for air, Sachie had to threaten grievous bodily harm to shut us up.

I skipped around the room, holding the folds of my ballgown in one hand while presenting my other hand to be kissed by each person in turn.

“I approve of this version,” Darsh said, bowing low to comply. “Now we drink!”

He’d prepared a signature cocktail for the evening (blood optional), like old times when Sach and I would come over before the three of us went clubbing.

They were served in World’s Best Dad mugs. “In honor of Avi and Ezra, may I present the Father Issues Fizz?”

Everyone laughed, though I shot Darsh the finger, and Ezra good-naturedly grumbled, “Too soon, man.”

Darsh handed out the mugs with the gallantry of a knight presenting sacred chalices to fellow members of the Round Table, each drink bestowed with a flourish that somehow managed to spill not a single drop.

Olivier cautiously sipped his. “What’s in it?”

“Glad you asked,” Darsh replied. “Bourbon, because that’s a dad drink. A splash of bitter amaro for those unresolved feelings?—”

Sachie hooted a laugh.

I patted my tiara. “They’ll resolve nicely into cold hard cash.”

“And club soda,” Darsh said. “For the fizz.”

“Naturally,” Silas said.

“I still can’t believe I’m going to a party with Astriid,” Olivier said. “You people move in different circles than I’m used to.”

“We’re just slumming on Ez’s coattails.” Silas licked a drop of crimson liquid off his lips. “You get used to it.”

Two Father Issue Fizzes later, we decided we were fashionably late enough.

Sach, Darsh, and I gathered the others into a huddle and put our hands into the center. Silas, Ezra, and apparently Olivier had been told what comes next because they did the same.

“We! Are! Fabulous!” we chorused giddily.

Party time.