Page 32

ROMAN

“Howdy, y’all.”

“Demon,” I say, and it comes out like a growl as I open the front door. The small woman who helped me teach Gwyn how to feed from humans looks up at me, eyes wide and innocent. She rolls her lips in and swallows before speaking.

“Nope, just me! Az is…” She gives a little shimmy and straightens her back. She tilts her head back to look up at me, having found some confidence she’d been lacking a moment before. “The demon is currently dormant, but he can see and hear everything.”

I glare at her for a moment, unable to let go of the fact that I unknowingly drank her incredibly addictive demon blood. Worse, Gwyn, who has a history with using shit like that to cope with her depression, had also drunk from the woman’s flesh.

But I can’t really be mad about that now, can I? Although, if Gwyn dies because she’s hooked on the shit, and not by my hand, I’ll be incredibly put out.

“Petra!” Margot says loud enough that I wince.

Her voice is shrill especially so close to my fucking ear, and if Remy weren’t already awake, I’d be irritated with her over it.

But she’s the best friend I’ve got at the moment, so I try to chill the fuck out even if she’s pissing me off.

She’d stupidly mentioned this plan in front of Remy, and so he’d insisted on being present, and I’m worried about the outcome.

Margot opens the door wide and drags Petra inside.

The small woman hugs Margot before taking off her coat.

I’ve never seen someone possessed by a demon have control of their own body in this manner.

She’s dressed warmer than when I saw her at Last Drop.

Her leggings have a mesh cut out and there’s some sort of strap criss-crossing over it to match the harness she wears over a black tank top.

She has necklaces layered on top, and her accessories are making a lot of noise.

I don’t get it.

“I love your shoes,” Margot says, pointing at the shiny silver high-tops Petra’s wearing. I really don’t understand fashion because who would want to be noticed so much?

“Oh my god, thank you! I got them at a thrift store near the bar, and I’m just obsessed with?—”

“Enough,” I say, closing the door behind them. “It’s late, and I want you out of my house as soon as fucking possible.”

Margot shoots me a look before ushering Petra through the family room and into the dining room.

Remy unfolds himself from the couch, skin pale and eyes dark since he’s refused any blood until we find Kayla.

The couple of humans I’ve drunk from haven’t done anything to slake my intense thirst—only reminding me of how good Gwyn’s blood tastes in comparison—so I know Remy must be feeling overwhelmed by his own.

Still, though, he won’t drink from me despite my many offers.

I could force the issue, and I don’t really know why I don’t. I guess if this is what he needs to do to feel better about Kayla, I’ll let him. Thirst won’t kill him.

But finding out Kayla is dead just might.

“I’m sorry it’s so late. I even left my shift early.”

“Last Drop still allows you to work?” I ask, watching warily as Remy sits down next to Petra. I don’t think he’ll lunge at her or anything insane like that, but knowing demon blood courses in her veins puts me the fuck on edge.

“No. I’m at Sanguivita now,” she says, looking down at her hands. “But I’m?—”

“Oh, so it doesn’t matter that you’re enabling?—”

“I’m a bartender!” Petra shouts, looking up at me through dark lashes before I can accuse her of dealing demon blood.

Her eyes are dark, and when they flash completely black for a split second, I almost allow myself to think it was a trick of the light.

She closes her eyes and clears her throat.

“I’m sorry for what happened at Last Drop.

Az was a…new addition in my life that night, and I completely forgot that my blood would change. ”

Margot giggles, but when Petra turns that puppy dog stare on her, my friend covers it with a cough. “How do you just…forget?”

“Also, how the fuck are you in control right now?” I ask, before grabbing my whiskey off the countertop and sitting down at the table across from Remy.

“It’s part of our bargain,” Petra says proudly, adjusting in her seat and folding her hands on the table. “He thinks I’m interesting .”

“Well, I don’t, and he’s who I’m here for, so…” I gesture for her to let the demon out. She frowns, and I swear if she tries to give me the puppy dog look, it won’t work.

“Roman, be nice,” my brother reprimands, and Petra gives him a sweet smile.

“Don’t look at him,” I say. Remy kicks me under the table.

“Az says that whatever you have to say to him, you can say to me.” Petra lifts her chin.

I sigh, putting my elbow on the table and running a rough palm over my brow.

It’s nearly three in the goddamn morning, and I want to stop getting fucked over by demons.

I don’t think that’s asking for very much.

Hoping Kayla is still alive? That one feels like a big ask, but I hold on to it anyway for my brother.

“We’re looking for a girl that was being held as collateral for a debt paid over a year ago. My brother was indisposed and unable to see her released.”

“He wants to know what the debt was. The price he paid,” Petra says after a moment.

“Is that relevant?”

“He says it’s about as relevant as you are to this conversation, considering your brother is the one who’s truly asking,” Petra says with a wince as she looks at Remy.

I take a sip of my drink and stare Petra down, hoping the demon knows my anger is reserved for him.

The only reason she’s even here is because Margot said this demon has gone rogue, and he doesn’t run in any of the local circles.

He doesn’t abide by their rules, so maybe we’ll get somewhere with him that we didn’t with the others.

“Ten souls.” Remy says. “They wanted ten souls in exchange. Kayla’s mother owed a debt, and I guess it transferred to me when I didn’t turn her soul in.

But I didn’t even know she made a deal.” Remy grabs Petra’s hand, eyebrows arched, and I realize my brother is adept at the puppy dog face too.

“How was I supposed to know? When Kayla came back to the States, they found her and gave me a list of demands. So I killed who they asked, and now I want her back.”

Petra starts twitching. She appears to be deeply concentrating, eyes screwed shut as her brow furrows. But then she starts gasping for air. “No!” she shouts, and then her arms flail outward before going stiff. Slowly, she lowers them to her sides.

And then her eyes open and they’re pitch black.

“It will take far too long if she must repeat everything I say,” Petra’s voice says, but it’s not Petra speaking.

The tone is different. Clipped and formal, it’s a far cry from the bubbly woman who’d appeared on my doorstep.

“You will not refer to me as Az, like my petulant host prefers. You will not speak my name, however I am called Asmodeus, and I can help you—for a price.”

“Name it,” I say, a bit shocked that I’m conversing with a Prince of Hell, and the demon laughs—stopping abruptly.

“Petra has chosen to subtract your fee from her payout at the end of her bargain, so I suppose I’m working for free.” The demon’s eyes roll, and Margot opens her mouth to object, but I shake my head.

I’d sworn myself to my enemy the night we drank Petra’s tainted blood. I’d fallen to my knees and wanted to make Gwyn my own. I’d drank her blood, knowing it would put me at her mercy, and if I’m to maintain any dignity, I have to blame it on the demon blood.

I’ll accept Petra’s gift considering she was responsible for what happened that night.

“What were the names of the demons who presented you with this deal?”

“Barb and Sal?” Remy says, almost laughing. “I’m sure they didn’t give me their real names, but that’s?—”

“Barbatos and Salleos,” the demon says. Petra’s voice has gone deeper in the last few moments.

She holds herself entirely differently. Rather than responding to the tone and words of those around her, the demon doesn’t falter.

He takes full command of the room and her body.

“I am sorry to say it, but it is unlikely that she is alive. Why have you not contacted them in the last year?”

“Well, I was… I mean… I couldn’t,” Remy says, and I don’t like watching the guilt paint his features in shades of regret.

“He’s been held captive until last week, and the host bodies were killed in the same attack.

The demons were, however, present when Remy delivered the ninth and tenth souls they asked for,” I say, looking at Remy as I answer, and he nods when I relay the information correctly.

He’s nervous, and I don’t want to make him talk about being held captive.

To him, being caught was a failure that might have cost Kayla her life—and he’s not exactly wrong.

But if that’s the case, and Kayla is dead, it’s not his fault.

It’s Gwyn’s.

The demon looks at me, head tilted, before giving a slight nod. Perhaps he disapproves of how protective I am of my brother, but I don’t give a fuck.

“It’s very likely they are not done regenerating.

And if that’s the case, whoever was holding the girl might have…

well…” When the demon glances over at Remy, I get a glimpse of Petra’s eyes before they shift black once more.

I wonder if she’s the reason the demon seems to be showing compassion.

“It’s possible she’s been locked away with no contingency plan.

Many demons only care about mortals to the extent of how they can be used.

All she was to Barbatos and Salleos was a business venture, so you should be prepared for the worst.”

It’s possible she’s been locked up and starved to death is the indelicate translation for what the demon is trying to say. But he’s being kind about it, and I’ll assume it’s Petra’s humanity.

“How can we know for certain?” I ask. Margot reaches across the table, taking Remy’s shaking hand. As a tear rolls down his cheek, I keep my gaze firmly on the demon sitting beside him.

“I’ll be right back,” the demon says, before sitting back more comfortably in the chair.

When a black, misty, humanoid form steps out of Petra’s body, much larger than the small woman, she slumps into her seat.

I have to wonder if he sat back on purpose to assure her safety.

She seems to be asleep for a moment as the demon’s form dissipates, but then she shakes herself out of it and grabs the arms of the chair.

“Did he leave?” she asks, looking left and right. Her heart races, thumping loudly, and her knuckles go white as she grips the chair.

“I thought you made a bargain. That you signed up for this,” I say.

I stand, walking to the kitchen to refill my drink.

Remy slumps down into his seat, and I don’t know what the fuck to do about him.

Anything that happened to Kayla isn’t his fault.

He did more than anyone to try and save her, so if she died, the blame doesn’t fall on him. But he won’t see it that way.

“I did,” she says, before asking Margot for a glass of water. “I just…he’s coming back, right?”

“You want him to?” Remy straightens, seeming shocked, but I’m not. There must be more to these two than it seems. But I don’t give a shit about the woman’s demon issues.

“Well, our bargain, I mean…” She doesn’t meet his gaze. “I need the money.”

“How much?” Remy asks before glancing at me with pleading eyes.

Absolutely fucking not , I think, hoping that perhaps he’s got enough understanding of body language to know I will not be giving this woman a cent.

“Enough,” Petra says. “It’s actually kind of nice. I don’t have to worry about getting mugged on the street or assaulted at work. If anything happens to me, I know I’m protected. I have a demon willing to handle it. Eager to handle it.”

“Speaking of,” I say as a black mist seeps through my kitchen window. I make my way back over to my seat, drink refreshed, just as the demon slams back into Petra’s body.

“Still me,” Petra says , smiling wide. “He’s not supposed to take over without permission, but he likes to bend the rules of the deal as much as he can.”

The curve of her mouth softens the longer I look at her, and with a brief glance toward Remy, she delivers the bad news. “Sal can’t speak yet, but Barb told Az she’s dead. The directive in their circle is to kill hostages if…”

She trails off as Remy begins to cry.

Loud, wracking sobs shake his body, and my heart drops into my stomach.

I knew this was a likely outcome, and still, I wish there was anything that I could do to take his pain away.

But instead, I ask for details. While I can’t give him back to her, maybe I can give him retribution.

Or at the very least, I can try to give him peace.

“Was there a grace period? A time frame that she would have lived before the other demons killed her?”

Petra goes still, tilting her head as if she’s in thought, but I’m sure she’s listening to the demon taking residence inside her head.

“Az said they would’ve probably killed her the same night the demons didn’t return. Definitely within the week.”

“And what did they do with her body?”

Her brows furrow, and her mouth opens in affront. She scoffs, muttering to herself, and then she jumps from her chair. Pacing across my dining room, I can tell the woman is arguing with the monster in her head.

It makes me think of another woman with monsters in her head, and I pull my phone out of my pocket.