Devon returns a few seconds later, shrugging into a heavy black coat with white flecks embedded in what looks like cashmere. He’s changed clothes, back into jeans and a sweater, this one a deep green. His white leather low-tops look equally expensive and new.
He’s holding a short stack of square pizza slices, wrapped in a brown paper towel, which he holds out to me.
I don’t take it, eyeing him and the pizza with suspicion.
Devon raises an eyebrow. “It’s just food, Jo,” he says patiently. “No strings.”
Everythingcomes with strings, especially when it comes to spawn, Old Ones, my father…
But my stomach gives an embarrassing growl then, making the decision for me.
Devon’s mouth quirks in amusement, revealing dimples on either side, and I take the pizza from him. “Thank you,” I force myself to say.
“You’re welcome,” he says easily. As if it really meant nothing.
Devon produces a sleek key fob from his coat pocket. “This way.” He jogs down the front steps and around the side of the house. I follow him, eating as I go, to a small parking area, where several cars wait, covered in ice. Most of them are the usual college student conveyances, but backed into one of the spots is a shiny silver Audi so new that even the rubber tires still gleam. The face of it is aggressive, like the grill is snarling at me.
Finishing the last of the pizza, I roll my eyes. This car is ridiculous for many reasons, at least one of which is that we’re inMassachusetts in the middle of a winter storm. We’ll be lucky if we don’t end up in a ditch around the first corner on the icy roads.
“It’s on loan,” Devon says.
“Does the owner know?” I ask, before I can stop myself.
He stops, looking over his shoulder at me, his expression serious. “I meant what I said. I don’t hurt people, but I’m comfortable with who I am and what I have to do to survive. And yes, there are benefits.”
I wince. That feels a little… pointed. I’mcomfortable, and you’re not.And to be fair, he is correct. If I could never feed on disappointment, rejection, or death again, I would. But it’s not quite the same, generating lust in someone and, well, killing them. Though I suppose that’s from my perspective.
“As for the owner, he has a dozen others like this on his lot.” Devon continues forward, hitting the fob to unlock the doors as I walk to the other side of the car. “And he was more than happy to arrange an extended test drive for me.”
Sighing, I scrub my hands as best I can on the greasy paper towel before touching the passenger side door. The scent of new leather hits me solidly in the face when I open it. It is, I’ll admit, very pretty. All black leather and chrome detail. I’m a little more used to the Camry, Civic, or even Jeep Cherokee genres. Except for Lennie. She was always the exception.
Lennie.That’s who I need to focus on right now. Not Devon, not my father. I slam my door shut, but it doesn’t give a very satisfying bang. All that expensive noise-canceling whatever, probably.
“All right. Where are we headed?” Devon closes his door and presses a button, bringing the engine to life with a hum first and then a louder grumble.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to push awayall the noise in my head. “I’ve been thinking,” I say. “And I have two very different but equally terrible ideas.”
“Fantastic.” Devon’s mouth twitches with amusement. “Let’s hear them.” He pulls his seat belt into place, and I do the same.
“Well, if the War spawn is here to challenge me because of this whole Death announcement, then I want to give them the opportunity to easily find me.” Before they kill someone else I care about or before a horde of spawn with similar intentions descend upon campus, apparently. One problem at a time, if possible.
He gives me an arch look. “And let me guess, this option involves making sure you’re highly visible by, say, driving or wandering the campus until they find you?”
“Basically,” I say with a grimace.
“You’re right. That is a terrible idea,” he says. “What’s behind door number two?”
I hesitate. “This one is a little riskier and more dependent on you.”
“I’m listening,” he says, just as casually as before, but I don’t miss the sudden tension in his shoulders, in direct contrast to his tone.
“This morning, when I was talking to the police—”
“Well, that’s never good,” he murmurs.
“—the detective said Lennie might have been coming to see me, that she called me a bunch of times.”
“And?” he prompts, adjusting the seat warmers.
