Page 9 of The Demon’s Due (Bedeviled #5)

Silas bound the back of my hand with Ezra’s, securing our wrists. The Prime’s arm had atrophied to be almost as slender as mine, his muscles a haunting testament to his rapid decline.

“Elastic band?” Darsh sniffed. He curled up the IV tube and hooked it over the stand. “How uninspired.”

I pointed at the door. “Heckling is not a required component.”

“Just a marvelous extra service I provide.”

I couldn’t be mad at him. I mean, I could, but while Silas was off finding a silver needle, Darsh had fixed my hair and done my makeup, so I’d look my best when Ezra awoke.

My friend also taught me the four words I’d have to speak for the thrall to set, correcting my pronunciation of some dead language until he was satisfied.

Apparently, the slightest deviation in syllabic stress could result in a very different outcome. Darsh refused to elaborate on what that was.

“The thrall requires the use of something that belongs to one of them,” Silas said, breaking me out of my thoughts. “And neither is wearing a bracelet, so elastic band it is. Avi, are you ready?”

“Yes.” My pulse fluttered in my throat, but Cherry vibrated with excitement.

Silas handed me the needle. “You’ve got this.” He headed for the door, followed by Darsh. Both had felt awkward about being in the room while I undertook this private process.

Darsh paused in the doorway. “Whatever happens, I’ve got your back.”

There was an authority to the door’s click, and even the building’s usual creaks and gentle hum of the heating vents quieted in reverence of this moment.

I found Ezra’s jugular vein, lightly scratching the image of two interlocking blood drops on his skin before mimicking the drawing on my own throat.

This was the moment of truth. The moment Ezra and I were either thralled together and he woke up or… I wiped my free hand off on my leggings. In that heartbeat, every possibility stretched before me like light through a prism. Power. Connection. Shared magic. Or darkness.

But I’d made my choice.

Whispering the unfamiliar words, I jammed the needle’s sharp tip into my jugular with a hiss. Unlike with the power word, there was no sense of release, simply a rote recital.

There I was, kneeling by my comatose boyfriend, with a needle sticking out of my neck like a nervous voodoo doll.

Nothing happened. Had I not found the jugular? Should I call Darsh and Silas back? I grimaced. One look at me like this and they’d make fun of me forever.

I removed the needle.

Ezra’s fangs extended and, still unconscious, he surged up, finding my neck with one hand. The rush of his fangs piercing my skin hit my system like lightning—a burst that made my teeth ache and my breath catch.

A tangle of fear and desire jolted through me, though he held me loosely, his drinking weak.

Warmth burgeoned through my chest.

His grip tightened, and the pull of his drinking intensified to a razor-thin wire of pain.

Steady there , Cherry calmly directed. We’re not done yet .

Ezra’s sickly gray tone melted like morning frost, rich brown skin blooming. The hollows around his eyes smoothed away, while his limbs swelled with renewed strength.

His magic reached for mine. When they finally touched, the resonance shivered through me like a struck gong, setting every nerve alight.

I opened my eyes in time to see the elastic hair band magically burn away into dancing motes.

Ezra slipped his fangs free of my flesh. His lids fluttered open, revealing a clear silver blue gaze that immediately found me.

“Well,” he said hoarsely. “That was something.”

I laughed, happiness making me dizzy. “Welcome back.”

His hands settled on my sleeves. “Nice sweater.”

“Thanks. This hot guy I know made it for me.”

His expression turned serious. “You shouldn’t have?—”

I kissed him, tasting the lingering copper.

Almost immediately, my boyfriend gently pulled away.

I glared at him, arms crossed.

He peered into my eyes. “How do you feel? Are you really happy?”

“I was. Less so now.”

“Seriously, are you feeling all glowy?”

“Glowy?” I checked his forehead for a fever. “Since when do you talk that way?”

“You’re enthralled by me,” he said.

“I thralled you,” I corrected him.

He scrunched up his face. “Can it be used as a verb?”

I crossed my arms. “Yes.”

“It’s making you happy when you’re around me.”

“Trust me when I say I’m really not. I’m half-shedim. Maybe I’m exempt from glowyness.”

“You think?” His eyes lit up and he tugged me closer.

Champagne bubbles fizzed in my belly. I wanted to dance and sing at finally being reunited with him, but he wasn’t getting off the hook that fast. Besides, this bantery argument was fun. “Get real.”

He mock pouted at me. “You don’t want to kiss your boyfriend who was on the verge of death?”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” But when our lips brushed, I poured all my relief and joy into that kiss, then I hugged him tightly.

He hissed sharply and I pulled away, my eyebrows raised. “Just a bit sore,” he said.

A purplish-black bruise peeked up along the collar.

I rolled up his sleeve. His arms were covered in them, as was his torso when I pushed his shirt up. “Rukhsana’s magic isn’t flushed out of your system.”

“Not yet,” he said. “But soon. You won’t be enthralled for long.” He bundled me back into his arms and buried his face in the crook of my neck.

Careful to keep my grip loose, I breathed in his natural scent of a windswept summer breeze that was mixed with the faint tinge of sweat and closed my eyes, blocking out pointless details like the room. I snuggled closer to his broad chest.

“Are you happy about our situation?” I said. “I forced it onto you, but waiting for you to wake up didn’t seem like a good option.”

“You did the right thing.” He glanced at a bruise on the underside of his wrist. “Thank you.”

“Thank Silas for telling me about this. My solution was to blood bond us.”

Ezra flinched.

“I won’t ever consider it again.” I stood up, looking off to the side and blinking rapidly. It’s not like I schemed a blood bond to trap him. I’d only come up with the idea in the first place to heal him.

“Aviva, I?—”

I didn’t need to be gently let down. Not right now. “How are you feeling other than the bruising?” I said briskly.

He threw back the blanket to stand and test his weight. “Steady.”

“Let’s talk logistics. What if one of us is injured during this thralldom? Do we both feel it?”

“Nope. See?” He pinched himself hard.

“What if one of us dies?”

“The other one figures out a way to keep living without them.”

Enough with the emo. In my head, Cherry grinned. We’re going to live a very long time and have a lot of fun .

I’d drink to that.

“In other news,” I said, “guess what happened to Alastair?”

Ezra arched an eyebrow. “I don’t suppose he conveniently fell on a stake while I was out?”

“Not exactly.” I sat down next to my boyfriend. “But he’s dead.”

Ezra rubbed his chest. “I feel your unease. What happened?” His eyes flashed red. “ Did he do something to you? ”

“Not in any way that you’re thinking,” I hurriedly reassured him.

Was that the thrall or simply a normal Ezra reaction? Would I be able to tell the difference?

His eyes morphed back to their regular silver blue, so I wrapped his hand between mine and gave him the rundown.

Ezra fist bumped me in triumph at passing the test for the power word, but frowned at the description of Alastair’s freaky rune, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders when I got to Daphne’s death.

Alastair encountering a fatal bout of body-building didn’t faze Ezra, though his fingers dug into the blanket at the fortress’s implosion and me being blown out of the Brink.

I wrapped up my tale with the earthquake here in Vancouver and that something else was worrying our friends. I hoped it wasn’t anything more than the blast.

Ezra remained still for a long moment. “Alastair is lucky he’s dead.”

I appreciated the sentiment, but the dhampir had been Zee’s friend, and though Alastair betrayed that, he was still gone.

I was glad I couldn’t feel his emotions, the way he could mine.

A knock at the door interrupted whatever else Ezra might have said.

Michael poked her head in. “Ezra, I thought I heard you. The shedim magic—” Her voice caught. “Good to see you recovered.”

“Thanks to your daughter.” Ezra’s smile was soft.

Michael turned a puzzled look on me. “How so?”

I shifted uneasily. “I thralled him.”

She blinked oddly. It may have been Morse code for “God help me,” but she didn’t comment on my verb tense.

My stomach lurched. What else was she so worried about? Aftershocks?

“Well, you’re up and around,” she said, “which frees up my sofa.”

Ezra nodded somberly, though his eyes danced in amusement. “The use of a good couch is unparalleled.” He folded the blanket. “Thank you, Michael, for letting me recover here and watching over me.”

She waved away his gratitude, but I could see how pleased she was. It was strange seeing them like this, my mother and my boyfriend getting along. Strange, but nice. Really nice.

“Aviva, if you’re up for it,” she said, back in director mode, “Spook Squad’s called an emergency meeting. There’s quite a bit to discuss, and your debrief is vital.”

“Of course.” I stood up but gave Ezra an uncertain glance.

“Go. I can’t attend anyway, since I’m not a Maccabee.”

I could have made the case that taking Rukhsana down almost cost him his life. Michael didn’t look like she’d object if I did, but Ezra spoke out against it.

“We need to test the range of this thrall, see how distance affects it. Better to do that now, in controlled circumstances.”

I hesitated. “Are you sure? You just woke up.”

“I’m not going anywhere except to raid the Spook Squad’s fridge for something else to drink.” He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Just…try not to blow anything else up without me.”

“No promises,” I said with a wink.

Michael shook her head. “This is going to be quite the debrief.”

The atmosphere in the small conference room was subdued.