“She didn’t say. Just that it’s important.”
We returned to find Eden pacing our living room, muttering under her breath. When she saw Malphas, she squared her shoulders like someone preparing for battle.
“Malphas,” she said, her voice stronger than I expected. “I know what you are.”
Malphas and I exchanged glances. “I’ve never hidden my nature at the support group,” he said carefully. “That’s rather the point of attending.”
“Not the reverse possession,” Eden clarified, reaching into her bag. “Your true nature. What you really are.”
Oh.I moved to stand beside Malphas, instinctively protective despite the fact that he was literally a demon prince who could probably reduce our visitor to ash with a thought.
“And what am I, Eden?” Malphas asked, his voice neutral but with an underlying current of power I recognized from his interaction with his lieutenants.
Eden pulled a book from her bag—ancient-looking, bound in what I hoped wasn’t human skin. “You’re a demon,” she said simply. “A high-ranking one. I’ve been researching since I first sensed your aura at the group.”
Malphas sighed, tension leaving his shoulders. “Yes, I am. I never claimed otherwise. I merely allow humans to perceive me in a way their minds can process.”
Eden nodded vigorously. “Exactly. And I’m here to help.”
“Help with what?” I asked, confused by her excitement.
“With freeing him, of course!” She placed the book on our coffee table, opening it to a marked page. “And freeing you from his influence.”
I blinked. “I’m not under any influence.”
Eden gave me a pitying look. “Oh, Sam. That’s what all thralls say.”
“Thrall?” I repeated, offended. “I’m not a thrall. I’m his boyfriend.”
“Stockholm syndrome,” Eden nodded sagely. “Very common with demonic attachments.”
Malphas pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture I recognized as his ‘humans are exhausting’ look. “Eden, I appreciate your concern, but you’re mistaken. Sam is not under my influence, and I am not holding him against his will.”
“Of course you’d say that,” she dismissed, pulling more items from her seemingly bottomless bag: candles, herbs, a small bottle of what looked like holy water. “The demon always denies its control.”
“Eden,” I tried again, “I think you’re misunderstanding the situation. Malphas and I are in a relationship. A consensual, mutually beneficial relationship.”
“The Warkenstein Compendium clearly states that demons create illusions of consent,” she countered, arranging candles ina pattern on our coffee table. “Besides, I’m not just here for you. I’m here to free Malphas as well.”
That caught us both by surprise. “Free me?” Malphas echoed.
“From Gary,” Eden explained, as if it were obvious. “The ghost who’s possessing you. I’m going to perform a dual exorcism—free you from the demon, Sam, and free Malphas from the ghost.”
I looked at Malphas, who appeared as bewildered as I felt. “Eden,” he said carefully, “I appreciate the thought, but I don’t want to be ‘freed’ from Gary’s influence.”
This stopped Eden mid-arrangement of her ritual items. “What? But he’s corrupting your demonic nature. Making you… domestic.”
“Perhaps I like being domestic,” Malphas suggested. “Perhaps Gary’s influence has shown me aspects of existence I never considered before.”
Eden looked genuinely confused. “But… you’re a demon. You’re supposed to be harvesting souls and spreading chaos, not…” she gestured vaguely around our tastefully decorated living room, “…coordinating throw pillows.”
I couldn’t help it—I laughed. The absurdity of the situation was just too much. Eden glared at me, which only made me laugh harder.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, trying to compose myself. “It’s just… you’re trying to save a demon from being too nice.”
“It’s unnatural,” Eden insisted, though she looked less certain now. “Demons aren’t supposed to have gardens and host barbecues.”
“According to whom?” Malphas asked reasonably. “The same demonology books that claim we can’t cross running water or that we can be trapped in salt circles?”
