Ella was the only person who’d ever do such a thing—and she never did it very much. My grandma would only give me looks of pity paired with a sigh, and of all the things this evening hasbrought, Lynx’s display of emotions makes my eyes heat with unshed tears. Ah Ma was always on my parents’ side too.
I swallow the shards of glass forming in my throat. “They weren’t good people, but they were even worse parents.”
“They hit you?”
There it is again. That rage on my behalf. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to hold on to so much anger growing up if there was someone else sharing it with me.
“The physical attacks, I could take,” I say, voice hoarser than I intended. It’s hard to pull the words out when I’ve never spoken them before. “It was… The shit they did does things to a person’s head, you know? I-it sounds so small and inconsequential, the things they did. Small jabs here and there that became unnoticeable under the bigger things. And I just… They aren’t hurting enough. Not like we did—likeIdid.”
I grind my teeth, trying to breathe through the red-and-black haze falling over my vision as I glare at the book.
The fucking black book that would make my parents pay for everything they did.
The same book I can’t do anything with.
My nails dig half-moons into my palm. This self-pity needs to end. If I want to be angry, then I better be useful too. This book is getting into the hands of the police. Even if I need to kill one of them to make it happen.
“They’ll get their dues.” Lynx says it like a promise. “If not in this life, then they’ll regret every breath they took in the place they go after.”
“In this life,” I vow. The afterlife is too far away.
26
Lynx
Being a demon is tiresome at times. But being a demon stuck in a manor with a ghost who has an attitude might be worse.
Even more of a nightmare is when we hear the chattering of voices downstairs while we sit in awkward quietness until one of us comes up with a plan to stop the next Tor’Oth that could potentially appear.
My right eye twitches as I glare at the door. There are more people now than the last time they were here—a lot more. What the fuck do they think they’re doing? Breaking and entering—a new phrase I learned—is a crime, is it not? At least that’s what Sable has been grumbling about since the first person arrived.
She’s lying on her front on the moth-eaten mattress, flicking through the pages of the grimoire like she understands what the words mean. I’ve studied the thing over and over, but she still insists on looking as if she has any knowledge about magic. Her knees are bent, feet hanging in the air, and my gaze keeps landing on her ass cheeks peeking out from under the materialof her shorts. She’s forever complaining about being cold—the fact she has minimal clothing on tells me shewantsattention.
It’s working.
I shift in my armchair beside the bed, twisting the wooden stake between my fingers. The weapon won’t do much to a Tor’Oth, but it’s sure as shit better than nothing.
I’m irritated. Every time she speaks about a spell to break our everlasting link and get me out of here, I grip the arms of the chair. Yes, we should be looking into it, but I’m more focused on her and the way she keeps glancing at me.
Sable looks at the door when more voices echo up and down the corridor. “Those assholes are partying again.”
Why else would they be here? But I also hope those asshole officers don’t show, because I have a headache coming on, and I’ve not had one of those since I was human.
My shoulders slouch on an annoyed breath as giggling echoes up to the second floor—who even laughs that loud?
Great. So the humans are back to party again and everything between us two is awkward—the atmosphere is tense, and I want her to dare me to kiss her again. Or just do it of my own accord. I haven’t decided on my next course of action, considering I—unfortunately—care for the girl I murdered.
A feeling that probably isn’t reciprocated.
Besides, she said our sex was mindless.
I inwardly scoff at the ridiculousness of the word. If that was the case, why the fuck did she dare me to kiss her?
Asking her outright if she meant what she said seems childish and beneath me, but I also need to know. There’s a large possibility of this being one-sided, and if that really is the case, I need to cut myself off from Sable. I’d prefer to do it sooner rather than later.
Imagine this becoming unrequited love? Not that I could ever love her and expect to get anything in return. The reasonher body is rotting in the soil of the manor’s forest is because of me.
I’m a demon. I’m incapable of love. All I know is destruction and hate. What I’m feeling toward her is—fuck, I don’t know what to call it.
