Page 7 of The Demon’s Due (Bedeviled #5)

Sach was talking. “She doesn’t need to know yet about?—”

“She’s awake,” Darsh cut in, already moving to smooth my tangled hair back from my face. His hands were gentle, but I could feel them trembling.

I grabbed them. “Ezra?”

“Will want to see you,” Darsh finished.

I relaxed. Whatever was wrong, they weren’t discussing him. Of course, that left only one other thing they could be discussing. I balled up the blanket in my fists, trying to order all the pieces to explain what happened in the Brink.

“Quite the scare there, Avi,” Silas said in a hearty, booming voice that didn’t quite reach his eyes and shoved a tray at me.

There was enough food for three: cut strawberries and slices of pineapple, a take-out cup of coffee from my favorite café, and an entire carton of orange juice. Warm muffins stacked like a mini pyramid on a plate rounded out the meal.

My stomach churned at the sight, but the hollow ache in my core meant I should eat. “Are those your mom’s zucchini chocolate chip muffins?” I said.

“Yeah,” Sachie said. “She was stress baking for when you showed up again.”

While fights between my best friend and her parents over her joining the Spook Squad had ended after her dad’s heart attack, her relationship with them remained strained and tense. Now wasn’t the time to ask if that had changed.

“Start your day with a good breakfast,” Silas said, briefly touching Darsh’s shoulder before withdrawing his hand when Darsh stiffened. “Yup, that’s what I always say.”

“Not even once,” Darsh muttered, shifting away slightly.

Silas shot him a frustrated look, jaw tightening. “Could we not?”

Sach glanced wearily between the boyfriends. Were they still boyfriends?

“Look at all those treats.” I poked at one of the paper muffin holders, pretending not to notice the crackling tension. “What a lucky girl I am.”

“You had extensive internal injuries,” Sachie said. “What happened?”

Silas shoved a muffin in my hand. “We’ll talk after she eats.”

“Let me see Ezra.” I tried to sit up, but the room spun.

“Start carbo-loading already,” Sachie said, “or I’ll find new and inventive ways to murder you with this plastic butter knife.”

“Or,” Darsh said gently, putting a hand on Sachie’s plastic weapon and lowering it, “you can have some food first, so you don’t black out in front of him. Fainting as flirting stopped being cute in the 1800s. Everything else can wait.”

My friends exchanged glances loaded with meaning. This was about more than the damage from the blast, but I was too exhausted to decipher it, and Darsh had made it clear I’d get no answers until I ate.

I bit into the muffin, which was delicious, same as all of Reina’s baking. I swallowed and motioned to my hospital gown, now dusted with crumbs. “Clothes?”

“Got you covered.” Sachie gestured to my carry-on suitcase in the corner. “Clean clothes, toiletries, everything you need. Found your coat and phone in your car and brought those too.” She placed my phone on the bedside table.

“My hero.” A flutter of genuine relief broke through at the sight of my cell, that small rectangle suddenly representing everything normal that I’d left behind.

“Your hero to whom you owe a hundred and eighty bucks in parking and impound lot fines.”

Hadn’t I paid enough? I took a deep breath. Michael could gather a team to track down Alastair’s followers, but everyone I cared about was safe, and hopefully, the murdered half shedim would rest easy now.

My appetite came back—somewhat. Every yummy bite still felt like it took forever.

Yet unlike my last meal, amazeball burger aside, this one assured me I was truly home. The hint of cinnamon Reina used, the coffee doctored to my specific tastes, even my bickering friends—they made my homecoming feel more real.

“You’re smiling,” Sachie said, her voice warm with surprise.

“It’s just…nice. To be back.” I reached for another piece of fruit with renewed determination to build up my strength.

Darsh’s eyes softened, the hardness he’d been directing at Silas momentarily forgotten. “We’re glad you’re back too, Avi.”

My friends stood over me until they decided I’d eaten enough to be allowed to shower, at which point I forced them to leave. There was caring and then there was stalking.

I washed quickly, the hot water cleansing away the last traces of the Brink.

Sach had brought me my TV-watching leggings and the crimson sweater that Ezra knit for me.

Ordinarily I would never have worn them while at work, but it wasn’t every day I destroyed a super-evil vampire and nearly died. Comfort clothes were appreciated.

Sach was getting a dozen cookies from her favorite bakery for being the bestest best friend in the world. Speaking of my friend, or rather her mother, I phoned Reina to thank her, getting teary approximately four seconds into the call.

Michael appeared in the doorway in a fresh change of clothes, her makeup reapplied and her silver hair back to its ruthless blunt line. “Ready?”

“I have to go, Reina,” I said.

The weight of the past few days—my abduction, the desperate fight to survive—all of it had been endured with one thought burning through me: get back to Ezra. I thanked her for the muffins again and ended the call.

My mind was already elsewhere—picturing Ezra as I’d last seen him, his body contorted by Rukhsana’s demon magic and all awareness gone as the darkness crawled beneath his skin.

Michael had said Ezra was safe, but after everything I’d seen, everything I’d endured to return home, I wouldn’t believe it until I saw him with my own eyes.