“And they have children there,” Ira added. “Other prophets like me who aren’t trained in combat. Administrative staff, teachers, and nannies for the young kids. Not everyone behind those walls deserves to die. How do you determine who dies and who lives?”
Valac didn’t know, and that frustrated him. He wasn’t a judge or executioner, but he couldn’t let their treatment of Julian go unpunished.
“Therein lies the problem,” Talon told Valac. “We’ve had this conversation many times, and it always ends at the same place. Our humans will only agree to kill the bad guys, and they want to be sure no innocents are caught in the crossfire.”
They had options, but Valac wouldn’t suggest any of them yet. Not now, when Julian was in such a precarious state. He was Valac’s priority.
“I would like to discuss this more after Julian is settled,” he said. “He needs me right now.”
“Agreed,” Nathan said. “He’s been through a lot.”
“His new clothes will be there in the morning,” Shadrach said. “It’ll be several boxes’ worth, because I placed an order for you, too. If you’re sticking around for a while, you’ll need modern clothing to help you blend in. Just let the delivery guys in when they get there. I threw in a few extra things, too. Let me know if any of it is not to his or your liking.” He grinned in a way that made Isaac snort indelicately.
Valac nodded. “Thank you for your help. I want to provide for him, but the world is very different than I remember.”
“You’ll get the hang of it,” Ira said, “and in the meantime, we’re here for each other. That’s kind of the point.”
Chapter 17
Julian
Julian knew right awaywhen he woke that he was in an unfamiliar location. It was beginning to feel like a common theme. He was in a sinfully comfortable bed, not his lumpy couch. For the first time in weeks, he woke with no back pain. The light hit his eyelids in a way that was decidedly different from his living room windows. It was far dimmer here, and when he blinked his eyes open, he realized it was because the curtains on the floor-length windows were drawn.
He sat up, feeling muggy, and ran a hand through his hair. His own reflection stared back at him from the mirrored wall opposite him, and he barely recognized himself. His borrowed shirt was twisted around his middle, his hair was askew, and there was a hollowness to his eyes he’d never seen before.
His life was over.
It felt very melodramatic to think, but in a way, it was true. He was still alive, but as far as the paladins were concerned, they’d killed him and erased all traces of his existence last night. The life he’d just barely begun to carve out for himself was snuffed out in a matter of hours. Everything he’d worked for was gone. It didn’t seem fair that anyone should have that kindof power over him. It should take more than a well-placed knife and some accelerant to erase a person.
But he was still here. They hadn’t erased him completely, and the best revenge was a life well-lived. He would rebuild, one step at a time, and this time, he wouldn’t be alone. If they wanted to fight dirty, so be it.
Voices from the next room caught his attention, and he realized that was what woke him. Standing barefoot on the polished wood floor, he padded from the room to see what the day had in store. It couldn’t be worse than yesterday.
He found Valac directing men in brown polos to set stacks of thick cardboard boxes in the middle of the living room floor. The delivery guys barely paid him any attention—too busy side-eyeing Valac with his strange attire and black-lined body—but Valac turned toward him at once.
“Julian,” he greeted. “Did we wake you? I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. What’s all this?”
Valac glanced back at the boxes. “After you fell asleep last night, I went back to the Rink and asked them for help. Shadrach was kind enough to order us both some new clothes.” Valac frowned. “Among other things.”
“Other things?”
“He didn’t say what. The others seemed skeptical, so I suppose we’ll find out.”
It seemed nice of them on the surface, but it didn’t quite compute. “They just… bought us a new wardrobe? Both of us? Just like that?”
The delivery guys waved, filing out and closing the door behind them.
“And groceries, it appears,” Valac said, gesturing to the kitchen, where several smaller boxes and paper bags were waiting on the island to be put away.
Julian was a little overwhelmed. Demons were supposed to be evil. Why were they buying him things?
“I don’t understand. Why would they do all of this?”
Valac blinked. “Because I asked them to. Should I not have?”
“I…” He didn’t know how to respond to that. “Who spends this kind of money on a stranger?”
