There was no response, and Suyin wasn’t in the mood to catch up with everyone at the moment, so she put the phone down and pulled the covers up to her chin.
She was back in her home where everything was familiar, and yet it might as well have been a stranger’s apartment. Becauseshewas different. Finding out what she was, and what her father was … She hadn’t really processed it yet, and she was only becoming aware of that now in the quiet of her bedroom.
It would take time, she told herself. One did not simply reconstruct their self-identity overnight. Things would work themselves out. And her life didn’t need to change at all if she didn’t want it to.
What did being a demon-human hybrid really mean to her anyway? How was it going to affect her life? She kept waiting for some sort of existential crisis to hit, but if anything, she only felt a sense of peace in finally having the answers she had so desperately been seeking.
Demons weren’t necessarily evil. Gamigin proved that. Hell, even Murmur proved that. His morals were questionable at best, yes. But he wasn’t evil. He just needed a little coaxing toward understanding, but she believed he could get there if he wanted to. She had seen it in the way he looked at her.
So no, she wasn’t particularly broken up about being half demon, even though it surprised her that her beliefs could change so drastically in so short a time.
But her father—his legacy, his intelligence, his research … She was proud to be his daughter. She was proud to be a part of his work.
And she was glad Murmur had found her and opened her eyes to all of this, even if he’d made her suffer to get there. She still hadn’t forgotten that he’d locked her in a dungeon and left her to starve, and she’d probably still be down there now if she hadn’t been quick-thinking enough to bargain with him.
She rolled her eyes. Fucking Murmur.
FuckingMurmur. Now that was a nice thought. Maybe the venom in his tail had given her brain damage, because there was no way her mind should have flip-flopped from remembering his dungeon to being in bed with him. And yet images of his big body covering hers quickly filled her head, all that shiny, gorgeous hair caressing her skin, the burning intensity in his ice-blue eyes …
She thought about the way he called her “witchling,” and how he’d told her to stay on his lap while he told her about his past, even though he hated feeling restrained. And she thought about how he’d taken time from his work to teach her about Gamigin’s book, and how he’d trusted her enough to share the true purpose of his spell.
Whether it was foolish or not, her heart gave a pang. Because she missed him already. Because she had feelings. She couldn’t deny it. She’d finally escaped Hell, and her first night home, she wished she was still back there.So, so stupid, Suyin.
The phone rang.
She snatched it off the nightstand, banishing the unwelcome revelations from her mind. Iris’s name was on the screen, and as soon as Suyin accepted the call, she started talking.
“You’re back! How was your trip? How come you didn’t tell me you were leaving?”
“It wasn’t planned.”
“Why did you go? Is everything all right?”
She took a breath. “Yes. And no. Listen, can we talk? In person?”
She lowered the phone and checked the clock. It was one in the morning. Fuck, her sense of time was way off. Was there such a thing as Hell jet lag? Because she had it.
“Want to meet tomorrow?” Iris asked. “I’m just about to go to bed.”
“Sure.”
“We could meet at the cafe by—”
“Let’s meet at Le Repaire. I want to show you something.”And corner you so you can’t run when I confront you about lying.
“Um …” Iris hesitated.
“There are no demon detection wards up right now,” Suyin said.
“Oh, okay. Well, that’s fine. It wouldn’t matter if there was. I mean, I don’t care about—Well, anyway. Yeah, let’s meet there.”
Damn, Iris was a terrible liar. How had they avoided this for so long?
Suyin felt isolated, but maybe it was because she was isolating herself. If she’d really been available to Iris as a friend, it would have been impossible for Iris to keep up this charade.
If she wanted someone in the world to care about her disappearing for a month with only a single text, then maybe she needed to start reaching out to people. Being there for them on a deeper level than just her physical presence.
“How’s eleven a.m. sound?” Iris asked.
