Page 22

T WENTY -T WO C AMILLE

Noah is at my door half an hour before we typically meet in the parking garage. I open the door with my toothbrush still in my mouth.

“What are you doing here?” I say around a mouthful of minty foam.

“Your first test is today.”

An anxious pit blossoms in my gut, and I back away from the door, leaving it open and hurrying to the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste. After rinsing my mouth, I return to the living room, where Noah is perched on the arm of the couch.

“I don’t get any notice?”

“What do you think this is?”

I shoot him a look. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. A few days to prepare would be nice.”

He nods. “I’m sure it would be.”

I cross my arms, exhaling a harsh breath. “Okay. So—”

“Let’s go,” he interrupts. “I’ll explain how it works on the way.”

Without waiting for me to respond, he stands and walks out of my apartment. I tug on my shoes, then grab my bag and jacket on the way out, cursing Noah under my breath as I hurry to catch up before he gets on the elevator.

He doesn’t say anything until we’re in the car driving toward Ballard. “Your test will be administered by my supervisor.”

My brows inch closer. “Why aren’t you doing it?”

“Mentors don’t score their mentees. It’s an organization-wide policy to ensure fair testing.”

I nod. “I guess that makes sense.”

Noah turns the heat down a little as we speed up to merge onto the interstate. “The test is a combination of mental and physical exercises that are meant to evaluate how you respond under pressure.”

“Will I be running through drills like we do in training?”

“Not quite. You’ll be expected to use what you’ve learned in those drills, but the test is a simulation of a demon attack.”

My next breath gets caught in my throat and pressure clamps down on my chest as I stare at Noah, while he keeps his attention on the road. “So I’m fighting a fake demon?”

“Trust me, you won’t be able to tell that it isn’t real. The government invested an obscene amount of money in the technology to create a lifelike rendition.”

I swallow past the dryness in my throat, wringing my hands in my lap. “You watched me successfully kill a real demon less than a week ago. Can’t that be used to evaluate my progress instead of this test?”

All through high school and college so far, exams have been a major trigger for my anxiety. Having to face them now in an environment I already feel profoundly uncomfortable in has my heart rate steadily increasing as we get closer to Ballard.

“No, for the same reason I can’t evaluate your test.”

I exhale slowly, nodding. “Do I get to bring a dagger in?”

“Anything you’re allowed will be provided. I’ll be watching from the observation room above the testing center.”

I’m not sure if that’s meant to make me feel better, but my skin still feels too hot, my upper lip dotted with sweat. I reach over and open my window a crack to get some air, closing my eyes to concentrate on controlling my breathing. I need to keep the anxiety at bay so I can focus on recalling what I’ve learned in training.

Too soon, we’re walking into Ballard’s main building. Instead of heading for the usual training room, Noah leads me to what appears to be a clinic waiting room on the opposite side of the facility. The space is lined with white plastic chairs and a registration desk. Half of the chairs are taken by other trainees, some of which I recognize from class, and others who are strangers.

Wyatt sits across the room and offers me a smile and wave, which I return before turning to Noah.

“Take a seat while I sign you in,” he instructs. “And I’ll see you after.”

I nod then walk over and sit next to Wyatt, who’s dressed in black joggers, sneakers, and a muscle shirt, his hair gelled back. “Did you know about the test before this morning?”

He shakes his head. “I found out when I showed up. They test us all on different schedules so no one really knows when they’ll get called.”

“Oh,” I mumble, wiping my hands on my thighs. “Are you as freaked as I am?”

He chuckles. “Ehh, yeah, probably not, but this isn’t my first test. I imagine it’s yours?”

“Uh-huh,” I admit, “I didn’t get this far when I was in training years ago, so it’s all new to me.”

Offering a wide grin, he says, “Don’t sweat it. You’ll do great, especially after training with Noah since you got here.”

I blow out a breath and force a smile. “Thanks. I hope so.” I catch Noah’s gaze across the room when he steps away from the registration desk. He sends me a nod before leaving the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

“Camille Morgan, proceed to the testing center,” the woman behind the desk calls out, and my pulse races as I grip the armrests tightly.

“Hey,” Wyatt says to snag my attention, then assures, “You’ve got this.”

I nod silently, getting to my feet. “Good luck with your test,” I tell him, and then I’m moving across the room in a daze, my heart thumping erratically in my throat.

The door buzzes when I get close, swinging open automatically. I step into a cold, empty hallway, my running shoes echoing off the concrete floor with each step. After a short eternity, I reach a set of metal double doors. There’s a digital countdown above them, indicating that I have thirty seconds until they open.

I can do this , I tell myself. I have to do this .

Watching the timer tick down, I inhale through my nose, hold it, and exhale through my mouth a few times.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6…

My stomach drops as the timer runs down.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1

An alarm rings and the doors slide open, revealing an empty room with white walls and floors and harsh overhead lighting.

I swallow hard, steel myself, and step inside.

The door closes immediately behind me, leaving me alone in the silent room. The lights hum with energy, and I take a tentative step forward. A panel in the floor opens in front of me, a small platform rising from it with a single obsidian dagger on top. I snatch it up and whirl around to scan the room. It’s still empty.

I move around slowly, looking over my shoulder every few seconds as my pulse pounds. Coming to a halt in the middle of the room, I shiver at the eerie silence and the frigid temperature.

A low, guttural growl rumbles behind me, and I don’t have a second to prepare before a solid boot slams into my back, launching me forward and sending the dagger clattering across the smooth floor.

I barely manage to catch myself in time to avoid face planting, my knees taking the brunt of the impact, and wince at the pain shooting up my thighs.

I push myself up and run for the dagger, the hair on the back of my neck standing straight. I feel the demon stalking toward me, and the moment I have the weapon gripped tightly in my hand, I whirl around to face—

No.

No, no, no.

My lungs constrict, and I stumble back, stomach clenching painfully.

“Camille.” Xander’s deep voice slams into me, stealing my oxygen.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

This isn’t real.

“You knew it would come to this.”

My eyes fly open to find Xander circling me like a predator would its prey, his eyes solid black and his lips curled into a wicked smirk.

Fuck, this simulation is terrifyingly real.

He comes at me, and I barely jump away in time to avoid him grabbing me. His responding snarl flips something on in me, and I close my hand into a fist, letting it fly toward his face. When it connects with his jaw, sending him stumbling back a few steps, I suck in a breath and pursue him again with Noah’s voice ringing in my head.

Do not hesitate. You do that, and you’re dead.

Of course, I wasn’t expecting to face a disturbingly realistic simulation of Xander for my first test, but maybe I should have. And something tells me I have Noah to thank for that detail.

Xander dodges my next attack, moving around me with incredible speed, and I spin on my heels to keep up. Except I’m not quick enough and don’t have time to duck before his boot slams into my stomach. I make a strangled sound and clutch my middle, panting and trying to push through the dull ringing in my ears. It’s a good thing I didn’t have a chance to grab breakfast this morning, because I’d probably be coughing it up right now.

“You can do better than this,” the simulation of Xander taunts, sauntering forward as I back away, still trying to catch my breath.

“Shut up,” I mutter, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand.

“I’m disappointed,” he pushes, his eyes glimmering with smugness.

“I said, shut up .” I jump into action, launching myself at him again, the cool metal hilt of my dagger biting into my palm. I use the discomfort to focus and center myself.

Slashing across his chest, I wince as Xander growls in pain at the obsidian that slices his skin, and my eyes drop to the tip of my blade now coated with black blood that drips onto the pristine white floor.

In the space of a heartbeat, Xander knocks the dagger out of my hand and closes in, baring his teeth like an animal and sneering at me. He cocks his head to the side, those black orbs studying my face—for what, I have no idea.

And then he laughs.

The sound chills me to the marrow of my bones and sends nausea rolling through me like a tidal wave.

“Oh, Camille.” He inhales slowly, then sighs. My eyes widen when his flicker to their normal brown, but everything in me tenses when he murmurs, “You’re dead.”

Those words shoot adrenaline straight into my veins, but I struggle to channel the surge of energy into fighting the soon-to-be king of hell. The man I love. My soulmate .

Xander lunges before I can, slamming into me and taking us both to the ground. I gasp, the air knocked from my lungs, and grit my teeth against the flare of pain in my tailbone.

A shudder ripples through me, and I stare up at him, my heart beating so hard it burns. Tears of fear and anger blur my vision as Xander snatches the dagger off the floor and raises it. He’s poised to strike, and I can’t move. He has me trapped beneath him, with his thighs on either side of my hips and my hands pinned above me.

My eyes fall closed, my shoulders shaking with silent sobs as fire licks up my throat.

I wait for the pain to come, but instead, the weight of Xander on top of me disappears.

The simulation is over.

I just failed my first hunter test .

Silence fills the room once more, and I blink my eyes open to stare at the industrial ceiling as my heart continues pounding against my rib cage. My pulse spikes, and I sit up when the doors slide open and Noah walks in, his expression grim.

I get to my feet on shaky legs, sweat coating my skin as the cool air chills me to the bone.

Noah stops a few feet from me, tension screwing his features. “What was that?”

I clench my jaw, willing the burning in my eyes to fade. “I’m sorry,” I croak, shame filling my voice.

He shakes his head. “I don’t even know what to say.”

I drop my gaze, dipping my chin as it quivers. “You and me both.” I swallow past the lump in my throat and press my lips into a tight line.

“Camille, this is serious. If you fail your next test, there’s nothing I or your parents can do. You’ll be kicked out of the training program.”

I don’t say anything. I can’t. All I can do is stand there and will myself not to burst into tears.

Noah exhales heavily. “I can tell you’re not in the headspace to discuss this now. I’ll take you back to the apartment and we’ll talk about it later.”

I’m getting out of the shower an hour after I get back from my test when my phone chimes from the vanity. I pull on my robe and wrap my hair in a towel before grabbing it and finding a message from Harper.

Hey, babe. Just checking in. You around today?

Hey! Sure, what’s up?

Don’t freak out, but things have gotten a bit complicated here. Turns out being related to the heir to the throne in the demon world puts a bit of a target on your back.

My stomach plummets and my legs suddenly feel unsteady. I walk into my bedroom and sit on the end of my bed before calling her.

She picks up on the first ring and quickly says, “I’m fine.”

“What happened?” I demand.

“Take a breath, Cami. Nothing happened to me. Xander and Blake ran into an issue with some demons that were supporters of Lucia.”

I swallow hard, my pulse beating in my throat. “What does that have to do with you?”

She sighs. “Apparently her bitter ex-lover, Marcus or whatever, is pissed Xander is taking the throne and is trying to use me to threaten his way into the position instead.”

I chew my thumbnail, my knee bouncing as I quickly try to visualize my schedule. It’s only Tuesday, and I’m supposed to have training all week, but this is more important.

“Did I lose you?” Harper asks with a short laugh.

“No, I’m here. Just…hang on.” I pull the phone away from my ear and put it on speaker before logging into my flight app.

“What are you doing?”

“Booking a flight.”

“You don’t need to come to Seattle. I’m perfectly safe. Besides, I’m going to be in New York with you in two weeks for Thanksgiving.”

“Of course, I do. This is my—”

“Don’t you dare say fault,” she cuts in firmly.

I sigh. “I was going to say, ‘this is my job as the best friend—to be there for you.’ If you can truthfully say that you wouldn’t do the same for me, I won’t come.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Harper groans. “Fine. Send me your flight info when it’s booked, and I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Will do. And, uh, how much of this have you shared with the organization?” I’ll have to see my mom while I’m there, and if this comes up, I want to know what, if anything, is safe to talk about.

“About that…” She trails off. “I haven’t really. There’s some other stuff at play that I’ll explain when I see you, but no one knows this psycho demon put a hit on me. Well, except for Xander and Blake. Probably Xander’s council members, too.”

“I feel like I missed a bunch of chapters here, but okay. I’ll see you soon and we can talk about everything. Preferably over drinks. And tacos. And cookie dough. These are necessities.” Especially when I tell her I failed my first hunter test. The thought of that conversation makes my stomach hurt.

“Of course.” Harper offers a soft laugh. “I fucking love you, babe. Have a safe flight.”

“Love you,” I echo before ending the call. I toss my phone onto my mattress and exhale a shaky breath. The back of my neck prickles with unease, like the beginnings of a panic attack. I do my best to shove it away as I pack a duffel bag with some clothes and toiletries.

Traveling has always been a pain point for my anxiety. It’s not about being away from home so much as it’s being stuck somewhere—like a giant metal tube with wings in the sky—and knowing I can’t leave.

It’s fine , I tell myself. You can distract yourself with cheesy sitcoms for the six-hour flight. You want to do this .

I manage to get a grip on the doom spiral and stop it, or at least pause it. I book my flight using points, then send the identical text to both Noah and my dad.

I’m going to Seattle for a few days to visit Mom and Harper. I’ll let you know when I’m back.

Dad texts back first.

Everything okay, kiddo?

Based on his response, I have to think he hasn’t been informed about my test result. Same with Mom, otherwise she would’ve called to yell at me, I’m sure.

Yeah, all good. I just want to see Mom before Thanksgiving because I’ll be in NYC this year.

Sounds good. Enjoy your time in Seattle. Please send me your travel itinerary. Love you.

Will do. Love you.

I’m not sure if I’m surprised or a little disappointed that Noah doesn’t answer by the time I get to the airport two hours later, but I can’t worry about it. Noah being an ass is very low on my list of problems right now.

Harper meets me at arrivals when I land in Seattle, and we hug harder and longer than I think we ever have before getting in the car, damp from the light rain.

I wait until we’re out of the heavy airport traffic before turning to her. “Okay, spill.”

Her lips twitch. “Spill what, exactly?”

“All of the things,” I say in a light tone, trying to keep the stress of the conversation to a minimum for as long as possible.

She blows out a breath, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel. Her cobalt nail polish is chipped, which is normal considering the training she does on a daily basis. “Shit, I don’t even know where to start.” Casting me a quick glance, she adds, “Maybe you should talk first, then I can after we’ve had many, many drinks.”

“And you think I know where to start?” Between the demon kill, that wild dream with Xander, and my monumental failure this morning, there’s no shortage of drama.

“Okay,” she says. “Any developments on the Xander front?”

I chew my bottom lip, pulling my legs onto the seat and tucking them under myself to get comfortable. “I, uh…sort of had dream sex with him a couple of nights ago.”

Her eyes pop wide. “You did what ?”

“It wasn’t real,” I say in a desperate voice, as if that’ll make it better. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. It felt so real .

And so fucking good.

“I don’t even—How did that happen?” she demands, shaking her head in disbelief.

I shrug. “Same way it does in the conscious world?”

“Right.” Her tone sounds distracted, like she’s still doing mental gymnastics to figure it out. “Are you back together then?”

“No,” I answer too quickly.

“Are you sure about that?”

I groan. “I’m not sure of anything, Harper. That’s part of the problem.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’m right there with you these days.” She reaches to turn the heat on. “I didn’t think I wanted any kind of relationship with Xander. But then…I don’t know. It feels like I’d be losing a brother all over again if I toss away the opportunity to at least try with him, you know?”

“I understand.” Her words pull at my heart, making my chest tighten. All I want to do is hug her, assure her everything is going to work out even though I have no idea if it’s true.

“If I do that, though, I’m forced to face a lot of things I’ve never considered before, like if it’s possible Xander could be a decent person and someone I want to know despite being a demon.”

I nod. “Which, of course, goes against everything we’re taught by the organization.”

“Right.” The unease in her voice makes me frown, because there’s not a thing I can do about what she’s struggling with. Hell, I’m struggling with the same thing. “So, that’s where I’m at,” she continues. “But we’ll chat about that and everything else later, once you’ve had a chance to visit with your mom.”

Harper drops me off with the promise that she’ll pick me up when I’m ready to leave. I leave my suitcase in the car and walk up the driveway to the house I grew up in. I haven’t seen my mom in almost a month and haven’t been back here in far longer so I climb the front steps and ring the doorbell.

My eyes widen at the deep sound of a bark.

When did Mom get a dog?

Thirty seconds later, footsteps approach from the other side of the door, and I adjust my purse strap on my shoulder as I wait.

Mom opens the door with a smile, using her knee to keep what looks to be a fluffy golden retriever from bolting outside. “Come in, come in.” She ushers me inside while keeping the dog back, then closes the door.

“Who’s this?” I ask, bending to pet the dog so it’ll settle down.

She steps back, smiling at the dog as I scratch behind its ears. “I rescued him last week when the shelter put out an urgent call to rehome him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Hawkeye.”

His ears perk up at the sound of his name, his tail wagging back and forth across the floor where he sits.

My brows lift. “Like the Avengers character?”

Laughing softly, she shakes her head. “Try forty years earlier. Hawkeye was the captain in M*A*S*H .”

“Well, he’s adorable. The dog, I mean.” I stand, hugging my mom. “It’s good to see you.”

She squeezes me back. “You too, honey.” When we lean apart, she asks, “How was the flight?”

“Good. Harper picked me up.”

Mom nods, and we move into the living room to the right of the entryway, where a steady flame fills the gray stone fireplace, heating the small space. “I didn’t make anything for dinner because I didn’t know when you’d arrive, or if your flight would be delayed, and I figured you’d want to go out with Harper.”

“That’s okay,” I insist, feeling a little out of bounds with this conversation. I’ve never been incredibly close with my mom—less so after Danielle died—but seeing her out of her element too brings me some comfort. We’re navigating this new chapter of our mother-daughter relationship together, and it might be uncomfortable at times, but I find I’m grateful for it.

We sit on opposite ends of the couch, while Hawkeye curls up on the floor at Mom’s feet.

“How are things?” she asks, a little hesitant.

I shrug. “Complicated, but that’s nothing new. Training has been the single most humbling experience of my life. I didn’t realize a person could be so out of shape, but I sure as hell am.”

The warmth from the fireplace contrasts the look on her face, and my stomach sinks when she sighs. I’ve heard that sound many times before. She’s disappointed.

“I’ve spoken with Noah several times since you went to New York.”

I fight a cringe as my stomach drops at the thought. It doesn’t surprise me, but I say, “Oh?”

“He’s concerned you’re not as far along in training as you should be. I am as well after learning you didn’t pass your first test.”

Well, shit. So, she does know. I guess the silver lining here is that I don’t have to tell her myself.

My brows slam down, and I clench my jaw. “I don’t suppose he told you about me kicking his ass in training yesterday?”

She shakes her head. “That’s good to hear, but my concern stands.” Her tense expression doesn’t fade. “If you don’t pass your next test, you’ll be dismissed from the training program.”

I know that , I want to snap but instead I just blink at her. This is just about the last conversation I expected to be having. I also hate the burning in my eyes and the growing pit in my stomach. I wouldn’t have cared about this a month ago, but now…

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Work harder,” she offers. “Train more. You deferred school to focus on training, but it doesn’t sound like you’re dedicating enough time to it. I know you can do better than this, Camille.”

I swallow, forcing down the lump in my throat. “Okay, well thanks for the vote of confidence?” I sit back on the couch, exhaling a sigh.

Mom leans over and pats my knee. “Talk to Noah. He’s your mentor and wants to help you succeed in the program.”

“Is that why he told you about how miserably I’m failing?”

She frowns. “He was worried it would chase you away from training if he tried to talk to you about it.”

I scowl at that.

“Can you blame him?”

Instead of responding to her question, I say, “I’ll talk to him when I get back to New York.” A pit forms in my stomach at the thought of that conversation, and I immediately recoil from it.

Mom nods. “Will you be here long?”

I press my lips together, shrugging. “I haven’t really decided.” I startle when the dog shifts on the floor, forgetting he was there.

She chuckles, moving to pet his head.

“I still can’t believe you got a dog. You never let me and Danielle have pets growing up. What does he do while you’re at headquarters all day?”

“He comes with me,” she says with a faint grin. “He has a bed beside my desk.”

I choke on a laugh. “I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting that.”

Mom joins my laughter, then makes a soft sound of contentment.

“What?”

Her gaze meets mine. “It’s nice to see you, that’s all. I miss my daughter.” The emotion in her tone brings tears to my eyes. My relationship with my mom has been less than ideal since Danielle died and I left the organization, but maybe with my return to it, we can repair the rift between us. This is at least a good start.

Pressure blooms in my chest, and I stumble over my response. “Oh, um…I miss you too. Things have been a little hectic since I left, but I’m sorry I haven’t made more of an effort to keep you in the loop with everything. I’ll do better.”

She lifts her hand to my cheek, smiling softly. “I understand. Maybe you’ll come home for Christmas this year?”

I can barely think a day ahead, much less a month and a half, but I nod anyway. “That sounds good.”

When Harper picks me up, she comes bearing a bottle of wine, a roll of cookie dough, and tacos from my favorite restaurant downtown.

“I am absolutely in love with you,” I tell her as I pull the passenger side door shut, leaning over the center console to smack a loud kiss against her cheek.

She laughs as she pulls out of my mom’s driveway, turning up the music a bit, though not too loud we can’t talk. “You best keep me out of that love triangle of yours.” Her tone is light and teasing, but I can’t help my responding cringe. “Sorry,” she singsongs. “I couldn’t resist.”

“It’s not a love triangle,” I insist as we drive toward the interstate. We could drive through the city, but even after the commuter rush, this way is easier.

“Then what would you call it?”

“A series of poor decisions?” I offer, dragging a hand down my face. “I’m still figuring it out.”

“Hmm, that sounds like code for ‘I’m not letting myself think about it so I don’t have to deal with it.’?”

“Why do you have to call me out like this?”

“Trauma bonding.” She shoots me a grin. “Because you can bet your ass I’ve been doing the same thing since you left for NYC.”

I stretch my legs out and fold my arms over my chest, exhaling heavily. “So we both have something we don’t want to talk about.”

Harper opens her mouth to respond, but the sound of an incoming call fills the car. My eyes widen slightly at the caller ID on her display screen.

“Why is Blake calling you?”

“I really don’t know, and you know what? I care even less.” She hits decline, and the music comes back on. For a few seconds anyway, and then Blake calls again.

“Maybe you should answer it?” I offer.

She makes a sound of annoyance as we get on the interstate and she answers the call. “What?” she snaps.

“That’s not a very nice way to start a conversation, love.” His deep, accented voice is filled with amusement.

Harper glances my way, rolling her eyes. “I’m busy. What do you want?”

“That’s a dangerous question to ask,” he taunts, and Harper grips the steering wheel tighter. No one seems to be able to get under her skin like Blake.

“I’m going to chime in and suggest you get to the point,” I say.

“Well, hello to you too, Camille. Lovely to hear your voice.”

“Is there a reason you’re being extra annoying?” Harper asks.

“Just keeping things fun.”

Muffled voices on the other end of the phone snag my attention. Is Xander with him?

“ Anywayyyy ,” he says, drawing out the word. “I’m calling to see if you’ve decided—”

“No,” Harper cuts him off in a panic.

He sighs. “Xander wants an answer.”

“You can tell Xander to go to hell.”

Blake chuckles. “Yeah, that’s not the insult you think it is, love.”

I watch the whole exchange with a frown. What is going on right now?

“I’m not dealing with this right now. I’m going to enjoy my time with my bestie, eat tacos and cookie dough, drink too much, and I’m most definitely not going to think about you or Xander for a second.”

He whistles. “You wound me so flippantly. But that sounds like a good time. Should we meet you—”

“Goodbye, Blake,” she says in a firm tone before ending the call, exhaling a harsh breath.

“Do I want to ask?” I angle toward her while she keeps her attention on the road.

“Uh, probably not.” She signals to get off the interstate and slows to a stop at a traffic light.

“Okay. Should I be worried?”

She looks over at me. “I’ll explain everything once we get home. You’ll want the tequila.”

Unease blossoms in my chest. “I’m going to be really bummed if I lose my appetite, because the tacos smell divine.”

With a short laugh, she turns her attention back to the road, and we’re moving again.

Being back at the apartment I lived in before fleeing to NYC is weird. Almost as though I never left and also like I’ve been gone far longer. It’s an odd mix of feelings as I walk inside, wheeling my suitcase behind me.

Everything looks the same. Harper hasn’t changed anything since I left. It still smells like our favorite citrus candle. The throw blanket I crocheted last summer is still draped over the back of the couch. The wall in between the windows in the living area is still covered with our photos. Nothing is out of place. I’m not entirely sure why, but that brings me a sliver of comfort, maybe because it means I can come back and it’ll feel like home.

Once we’re settled on the couch with our food and drinks, I pin Harper with a look until she starts talking.

“Before I say this, you should know that I still haven’t made up my mind about the whole thing.”

My brows lift. “Okay?”

She chews her lip, looking away as if she can’t stand to hold my gaze when she says, “Xander asked me to join his council.”

“He what ?” I demand, shaking my head. “That doesn’t make sense. You’re not a demon.”

Harper finally looks at me. “I know that. He knows that.” She plucks at the blanket draped over her lap. “He wants a hunter.”

I blink at her, trying to wrap my head around what she’s saying. “I feel like I’m missing something here. Why does Xander want a demon hunter on his council?”

She swipes up the bag of tortilla chips and munches on one. “He doesn’t want to kill demons—even when it’s required of him in an underworldly political capacity—and I need to in order to graduate. In theory, it could be a mutually beneficial arrangement. But I don’t know. It also seems absolutely insane when I say it out loud.”

“Yeah, kinda,” I offer unhelpfully.

“Guess I don’t have to ask if you think I should do it,” she mumbles, pulling out another chip, and the disappointment in her features has me reaching for her.

I rest my hand on her knee and squeeze. “My hesitation comes mostly from the danger associated with the role. I trust that you’ve thought it through and you’ll make the best decision for you. I’ve got your back no matter what you choose, you know that.”

Harper groans, letting her head fall back against the couch. “If I accept the role, I could very well be kicked out of the organization if they find out. I’m pretty sure this is unprecedented, so I don’t even know what the punishment for something like this would be.”

“You’d be killing demons. The way I see it, you’re still doing your duty under the organization’s vow to protect humankind.”

“Right, but they haven’t been known to hire, uh, independent contractors. If they discover I’m working for both sides, my loyalty will harshly be called into question.”

I relate to her concern more than I should as I consider what could happen if I even attempt to pursue something with Xander. And she’s absolutely right about being questioned. At its core, the hunter organization is a division of the government, and its members agents of it.

“I wish I could say I’m optimistic this has the potential to change the way the organization views demons. That maybe a partnership between the hunters and the monarch could be good for both sides. But I’m not naive. If my superiors learned I was hunting demons the king of hell assigned to me, I’d be hauled into headquarters and interrogated.”

I don’t want to agree with her. I’d much rather be naive and believe the arrangement Harper is considering with Xander could breed change between opposing sides of a centuries-old war. Except trust is far too high an order for the humans and demons.

“I think you need to be okay with the possibility of being exiled from the organization if you’re going to accept Xander’s offer. Ask yourself if you’d still want the role on his council if that happens.”

Harper sits straighter, swallowing hard. “I enrolled to help people. Sure, the government salary and benefits would be helpful when I graduate, but this just feels…bigger?”

I offer what I hope is a supportive smile. “I know what you mean.”

“I’m not saying I think I can change the world or anything, but I’m willing to take the risk and try to at least make things better.”

“That’s really brave,” I tell her in a thick voice. I wasn’t expecting the lump of emotion in my throat, and I swallow past it to continue, “And it sounds like maybe you have decided, even if you’re not ready to say it.”

She inhales slowly, then lets out a shaky breath. Her eyes meet mine, and she gives a little nod. Fear steals her expression, as if she just realized the impact of her decision, and I pull her toward me, wrapping her in a tight hug. Her heart thumps in her chest where it presses against mine, and I smooth a hand over her hair.

“Everything is going to be okay.” The reassurance is as much for me as it is for her. We both need it right now. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together.” I pull back, cupping her cheeks in my hands and hold her watery gaze. “Besides,” I say in a forced humorous tone, “we have the devil on our side.”

A startled laugh escapes her lips, and she lifts her hands to cover mine as she blinks away her tears. “Does that mean you’ve made a decision about him too?”

My stomach dips, and I press my lips together. “I don’t know,” I finally say, letting my hands fall to my lap.

Her brows lift. “You know enough to have dream sex with him.”

I smack her shoulder with the back of my hand, groaning at the heat in my cheeks as the memory comes rushing back. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you that.”

She laughs again, this time sounding more genuine. “Your mistake.”

I open my mouth to spill about the hunter test I failed, but the words don’t form. I can’t bring myself to tell her—not now. “Yeah, my mistake.”

“Come on. Let’s call it a day and fill the pits of stress in our guts with food and alcohol like people do for their mundane problems.”