That cold dose of reality had him swatting the demon’s hand away from his groin. The demon’s head jerked up, and the fear returned with a vengeance. If Nicolas refused him, would the demon kill him, too?
“Don’t.” His voice quaked, but he lifted his chin defiantly. “We can’t do this. I won’t. If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.”
The orange glow of his eyes winked in and out, and Nicolas realized he wasblinkingat him.
“No,” he rasped. “Not kill.”
“No?” Nicolas repeated, afraid to hope. He didn’t understand why this creature would kill his entire squad but not him. Maybe it was a trap. A ploy to lure him into a sense of safety before striking. But that didn’t make sense, either. This demon hadn’t done that with any of the others. Their deaths had been painful but quick. He hadn’t toyed with them.
Sharp claws tickled his cheek. “Mine,” the demon said.
Nicolas struggled to inhale. His? What did that mean? “No,” he said reflexively.
The demon’s head bobbed back, like he was drawing back in affront. “Yes.”
“N-No. I don’t understand what… I’m notyours. You killed my squad.”
The demon tilted his head. “You care?”
“Of course I care!” But did he? Did he really? Any of them would have turned him in if they found out he’d contacted Julian last month. He didn’t trust any of them anymore. They were just people he was stuck with on patrols, because Sloan wouldn’t have found any of his complaints about their behavior valid.
He was a terrible person. He shouldcarethat they were dead.
One claw tapped his nose. “Guilt.”
Nicolas blinked at him, sagging. “Yes. I feel guilty.”
“No.” He pointed blindly at the door behind him. “Evil.”
“No, they weren’t.” At least, he didn’t think so. Maybe they’d made some bad choices, but no one was truly good or evil. Everyone had the capacity for both within them. They were just doing what their commander told them was right. He couldn’t blame them for that, not really. Not when hecould remember a time not so long ago when he considered those men his closest friends.
The demon leaned in, gripping Nicolas’s chin hard. His claws pricked his skin. “Saw it.Ateit.Evil.”
Nicolas stared into the burning points of the demon’s eyes, wondering why he cared what Nicolas thought at all.
“And what about you?” Nicolas whispered. “Are you evil?”
“I…” the sin eater rasped, “am justice.”
As crazy as it sounded, Nicolas believed him.
This demon—this incredibly powerful being—for some reason believed Nicolas was worth something. He’d fought tooth and nail to become one of the youngest paladin captains in the guild, and it wasn’t enough to please the ghost of his father that lived on in his head. He’d died when Nicolas and Daniel were just teens, but the memory of his disapproval survived, sharp and barbed and embedded too deep to remove, cutting him every time he dared to feel proud of himself. It didn’t seem fair that a demon should be the thing that finally soothed that ache.
Nicolas stared up into glowing orange eyes. They reminded him of a marigold—his mother’s favorite. He put a fresh bouquet on her grave every spring.
For just a moment, he wanted to let himself stay. Here in the dark cocoon of the sin eater’s arms, he felt… wanted. His fingers sank into the supple cloak, and the demon’s body shifted closer. His hooded head tilted, and Nicolas had never felt sostudiedbefore.
“You’re…” Nicolas stopped. He had no idea what to say next. An enigma. Not a monster after all.Nicerthan he expected.
But reality was a cruel constant. No matter how nice it felt, he was a paladin, and this was a demon.
Nicolas consciously loosened his grip on the sin eater’s cloak. “I have to go,” he whispered. His shirt was hopelessly ripped, but they had spares in the back of the SUV.
He slid along the wall, away from the demon, who turned and fell into step with him. Nicolas stilled, side-eyeing him.
“What are you doing?”
No response.
