“Ironically, Judas vamps tend to have a better outcome in Catholics.” Kilian attributed it to the cultural affection for guilt.
“That I did not know.” Stephen turned toward Mia again. “Can I get research materials on Judas vamps? Given that they were born out of a magical ceremony that stole power from Judas’s corpse, it seems weird that they would have a better outcome in Christians. Totally weird.” He frowned, lost in thought for a moment. Little Stevie used to do that a lot. When Kilian babysat, his favorite strategy for dealing with the hyperactivity was to search the Internet for answers and read them aloud. If he let Stephen go down a research rabbit hole, his own curiosity could entertain him for hours.
“I’ll see what I can get you,” Mia said.
Stephen rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to Kilian. “They worry that if they give me access to dark subjects, the demon will get out faster. Apparently, treating me like I'm three years old and sheltering me from all the bad things in the world means that bad things can’t happen.” And there was the sarcasm that Kilian expected from Stephen.
“I think she's invested in making sure that nothing bad happens to you.”
Stephen's expression was distinctly unamused. “She worries, I'm just not convinced she's worried about me, which is fair, since I don't care if the demon gets out and eats her. It's a love-hate relationship we share.”
“I don’t see that much love,” Kilian said, although he couldn’t blame Stephen. He was locked in a windowless room and controlled in a way no adult would tolerate. But the demon made that necessary. Kilian had fought a demon-enhanced witch once, and he had been dangerous enough. But the runes witches carved into their own bodies meant that their life force was the lock on the demon’s cage. If the witch died, the demon was banished back to its dimension. The idea of a creature having that much power with no check on it terrified Kilian.
Stephen held his finger and thumb no more than a centimeter apart, “Love,” he said. He then spread his hands as wide as he could reach. “Hate.”
Kilian grimaced. It was clear Stephen was not in a healthy place, so he understood why the government handlers were worried. “They want me to transfer here and take the job as your last line of defense.” Kilian felt like the eighteen-year-old version of himself watching little Stevie flail in the pool, expecting him to slip under the water at any second.
Stephen frowned. “Whatever they're offering to pay you, it's not enough, and your life expectancy would not be particularly long.”
“Do you plan on disemboweling me? I do have to warn you that disembowelment will not kill a Judas vamp, but it will sure piss me off.”
“But doing it over and over again would probably kill you,” Stephen said.
Despite the coldness of his words, his face twisted with disgust. He was trying to scare Kilian away, which meant that either little Stevie wanted to protect Kilian or the demon had a reason to fear a Judas vamp. As many advantages as Kilian enjoyed as a vampire, he didn’t have any particular skill in banishing demons.
Kilian decided to assume it was the former and give Stephen the respect of honesty. “I believe they are counting on my venom.” Kilian held out his hand with his fingers pointed up. Long nails grew, the tips glistening with yellow.
Instead of being afraid, Stephen leaned closer and studied them. When he reached for Kilian's hand, Kilian pulled back. “The poison affects the nerves,” he explained. He allowed his claws to vanish and then pulled a cloth out of his pocket to wipe the poison from his fingers. “It's very painful.”
It only took a second for Stephen's confusion to clear. “They hope to use pain to lock the demon in the body. Very clever.” He considered Mia. “Very clever. One day, the demon is going to bathe in your blood.”
Kilian had thought Stephen was supposedly fighting the demon, but he was getting mixed signals. Hopefully Mia's magic users were closing in on the demon's heritage so they could find a sacred object to banish it. “Stephen,” Kilian said. Stephen abandoned glaring at Mia and turned his attention back to Kilian. Something like sorrow crossed his face.
“They are hoping that I can help you focus on your humanity. Judas vamps have some powerful instincts. I can teach you to fight them,” Kilian said.
“So, you're going to teach me meditation?” Stephen laughed. “They actually did bring in someone to teach that. Classes didn’t last long.” He grinned, but his eyes were still darker than a human’s, making the comment ominous.
Kilian didn’t ask if the instructor had survived. As much as Stephen was playing at being evil, he was also trying to get Kilian to leave, and his expression was full of worry. Maybe this wasn’t the twelve-year-old boy Kilian had once known, but he recognized that face. When the pool filter had been clogged one morning, Kilian had found a dead kitten caught in the trap. He had no idea how the animal had ended up in the pool, but Stephen had been at the pool before it officially opened, like he had been most days. Stephen had stared at that kitten the way he stared at Kilian now—with a soul-deep grief.
Kilian was a believer that actions spoke louder than words, and Stephen's attempt to drive him away was more significant than his callous phrasing. And Kilian was not a broken, yellow cat incapable of saving himself. “How close is the demon to escaping?” Kilian asked.
Mia sucked in a quick breath that wouldn’t have been audible to mundane ears.
Stephen gave her an amused look. “Close enough that I cursed my own father. He was screaming in pain and his hair was turning white when they dragged him out of here. A half dozen guards took Tasers to me while two separate witches cast curses.” Stephen gave Kilian a slow, honeyed smile. “It only slowed me down.”
“And yet, you won't allow your father to come back in here because you hope to protect him.”
Stephen flicked a glance in Mia's direction. “Someone's been telling tales out of school. Don’t trust her.”
“I don't. That's why I'm asking you these questions,” Kilian said. For a fleeting second, pain and regret colored Stephen's features. The micro-expressions would have vanished too soon for mundane eyes, but he was not mundane.
“I told her I wouldn’t take her orders,” Kilian continued, “and she promised binding rings so the only missions I go on would be with you.”
Stephen scowled. “Binding rings would mean that you couldn’t be more than ten or fifteen feet away from me at any time.”
“They would,” Kilian agreed. “If I transferred to this unit, it would be to help you manage the demon, so that’s fine. I won’t be pulled away from you by a woman who appears outside any chain of command. I don’t trust any commander with that much authority.”
Stephen frowned, his curiosity staining the air.
