I can clearly see her teeth clenched in my mind’s eye, “Belissenda, you promised me no more secrets so whatever’s happening, you better fucking spill.”
“Okay, okay, just… it might be nothing,” I relent. “Like I said, it probablyisnothing. Just some asshole taking an opportunity to torment me further.”
“Start. Talking.”
“So the guy who had me, ummm… like captive, I guess, said something about a soul bond. Soul bonds, actually,” I begin, walking back and forth across the soft carpet to keep myself grounded during this daunting conversation.
“Is that… different than the whole demon/host thing?” she asks.
“Yeah, it’s like a…” the words stick in my mouth, “soulmate thing with the demons.”
At my lack of details, she prods, “And you think you are Caspian’s? Or Fritz’s?”
I work my jaw, considering how to answer, “Well, he made it seem likebothof them probably are. I’m not sure how the fuck that’s supposed to work when I only have one soul but-”
I can feel Isla holding back her excitement at the possibility of me living out her favorite romance trope. She’s barely keeping her questions calm for my sake, “And you think Eamon will know?”
“I think if anyone does, it’s probably him.” I shrug, though I guess it’s pointless since she can’t see me anyway, “Alastor seemed to know a lot more than he was willing to share, probably just to be an asshole. Just keep me asking questions so he could lord his unending knowledge over me.”
Isla dives into her research analyst mode, “I mean… I guess it makes sense that the hunters know so much if they’ve basically spent the last few centuries torturing and studying them. They’d have to have kept really thorough records of everything they’ve found, along with their hypotheses and experiments, I wonder how they’d— wait, what did you say your captor was named?”
“Alastor,” I swallow the awful taste his name leaves in my mouth, rolling my eyes at his arrogant grin plastered across my mind, “But he went by Al.”
“Huh,” she pauses, “That’s uhhh… that’s not a name you hear every day.” Distantly, I wonder why she would be so caught up in him having a strange name. Before I can think on it too much, she stutters out, “Look, Bel. I… I need to go. Let’s talk later, kay? I- I’ll text you that number right now. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” I say, surprised by her sudden mood change. “Thanks.”
“Hey!” Fritz startles me, and I spin around just in time to be wrapped in his embrace. He lifts me off the ground, planting a fierce kiss against my lips, “I hoped you wouldn’t wake up while we were gone; I just figured you’d need something to eat.” Caspian stalks behind him, carrying a few take-out boxes.
“We brought tacos,” Caspian proudly announces, leaning in to press his lips against my temple. “He made me go clear across town for them.”
“They’re the best ones in the city, I swear,” Fritz holds his hands up in supplication. “Totally worth it, just wait and see.”
As we make our way to the kitchen island to eat— and they are, in fact, the best tacos I’ve ever had— I can’t help but worry about Isla’s weird reaction to our conversation. She got off the phone so fast we didn’t even actually talk about the possibility that soulmates are a real thing or that Caspian and Fritz might be mine. She hung up like she couldn’t get off the phone fast enough.
When her text comes through with Eamon’s number, I shake the strange thoughts away. Maybe she had plans, or maybe she just didn’t want to talk about Eamon any longer. She hates him with a passion, though no one has really told me why.
“Was that Isla on the phone?” Caspian asks midway through dinner.
“Oh! Uh huh!” I feign nonchalance, hoping I can pry information out of them without them doing the same to me, though Fritz looks suspicious already at my surprised outburst. I clear my throat, “You guys never told me what happened to make her so… anti-Eamon.”
As they recall the time they all spent working together in the apartment to find me, it all falls into place.
“Yikes,” is all I can say. I’ve never known Isla to be the violent type, but if someone tried to keep me from protecting her, I’d probably do the same.
“Yeah, it was wild,” Fritz cackles. “At the time, it wasn’t funny, but looking back now that you’re safe, it sure fucking is.”
Still, something isn’t adding up. Sure, Eamon pushed all her buttons, but we weren’t even really talking about him. We were talking about Alastor. Maybe she was more affected by my going missing than she’s willing to admit.
Fritz tilts his head, “What’s going on in that pretty head, Songbird?”
“Nothing,” I lie.
He lets his eyes narrow just a bit, letting me know he doesn’t buy it for a second. Eventually, he relents, wagging his eyebrows, “You ready for dessert?”
A laugh escapes me before I can help myself, “What’s for dessert?”
He grins at me, “You are, of course.”
