“Soul bonds don’t work that way,” Victor said. “What we have is… absolute. Unchangeable. For as long as we both exist.”
Derek stared at them for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, his face softened into something almost gentle.
“You know what? Good.” He picked up a half-eaten pastry. “You deserve something good, both of you. Even if it is terrifying and permanent and probably going to cause me endless paperwork.”
Something in Ava’s throat threatened to close up. “Thanks, Derek.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank whoever makes these croissants.” He shoved the pastry into his mouth. “Now, what are we doingabout Lilith? Because she’s going to come back angrier than before, and I want a plan.”
“She called in sick,” Victor said.
Derek choked on his croissant. “She what?”
“First time in three centuries, according to Cassandra.”
“Lilith doesn’t get sick. Lilith doesn’t take breaks. Lilith once argued a case for eighteen hours straight while running a fever of 107 because she refused to let anyone else close the deal.” Derek’s eyes had gone wide. “This is bad. This is very bad. A sulking Lilith is a dangerous Lilith.”
“Or it means she’s licking her wounds,” Ava offered.
“Lilith doesn’t lick wounds. Lilith plots revenge while pretending to lick wounds.” Derek pulled up something on his tablet. “I’m going to start tracking her known associates. Figure out who she might be talking to. See if there’s any movement on Peterson Holdings.”
“Peterson Holdings.” Ava had almost forgotten, in everything else, that Lilith still held that leverage over her parents. “Is there anything new?”
“Nothing since Friday. But I’m watching.” Derek met her eyes, serious despite the pastry crumbs on his shirt. “Whatever she’s planning, we’ll see it coming.”
The morning continued in surreal normalcy.
Ava filled out disclosure forms, checking boxes about relationship status, conflict of interest, emergency contacts. There was something darkly funny about bureaucratizing a supernatural soul bond.Nature of relationship: eternal magical connection. Duration: permanent. Please list any potential conflicts…
Victor attended partner meetings. His concentration hummed at the edge of her awareness—careful navigation of demon politics, an occasional spike of frustration (Grimm being Grimm, probably) quickly smoothed over.
Junior associates found excuses to walk past her desk with uncomfortable frequency. Someone needed a file from the cabinet behind her chair. Someone else had a question for Derek that required walking the longest possible route through the bullpen. A woman from M&A asked to borrow a stapler despite having three on her own desk.
They weren’t subtle about staring.
“Your neck,” the stapler woman said, eyes fixed on the silver marks curling above Ava’s collar. “Is that… does it hurt?”
“No.”
“It looks like it should hurt.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Can I—” She reached out like she was going to touch, and Ava leaned back sharply.
“I have work to do.”
The woman retreated, but Ava felt her watching for the next hour.
Derek brought lunch: dumplings from her parents’ restaurant, delivered by Emma with a card that just saidWe’re rooting for youin her mother’s handwriting. The familiar taste of home helped settle something in her chest that had been wound too tight since Friday.
The afternoon brought more attempts at normalcy. Ava worked on a merger agreement, losing herself in the comfortable complexity of contract law. Victor reviewed documents in his office, his concentration humming quietly at the edge of her awareness. They passed in the hallway once, exchanging looks that made Derek audibly groan about “watching other people’s happiness being physically painful.”
Late afternoon, the sun slanting golden through the windows, Ava noticed Lilith’s office door remained firmly closed. No light visible through the frosted glass. No sounds from within.
“Still out,” Cassandra confirmed when Ava found herself lingering near reception. “Her assistant says she’s ‘indisposed.’ Whatever that means for a demon who doesn’t need to eat or sleep.”
“Should we be worried?”
