“The sulfur. It's the same smell when you poof. You avoided the question.”
My fingers brush along her side and she shivers. “Dimitri was here. Then he left. I didn't want you to think random demons would be showing up.”
“Except he's your friend, so he's not really random. What did he need? Shit, you need to go back, don't you?”
She attempts to push away from me, making me cling tighter to her. Everything I spouted off to Dimitri was the truth. Except I can't seem to let her go. All my plans to sever the tie between us flew out the window. I haven't even thought about it since I put together her desk. No matter how much being with her wouldn't work in the long term, I'm hesitant to let her go completely.
“I don't need to be anywhere. He doesn't know why he got sent here, and he got sent…somewhere else.”
“Shit, do I need to get rid of the summoning circle?” She pushes again as if she'll get up right now and wash away the evidence.
“If you erase the circle, you won't be able to summonanydemons.” I hold my breath, hoping she understands theimplications. I won't stop her if she wants to go through with it. I can't.
My arm falls away from her as she scrambles to her feet. She grabs a silk robe and slides her arms into the sleeves. I prop myself against the headboard, the sheet settling around my hips. I refuse to chase after her. If she wants to erase me from her life, then so be it.
I'm too far gone to think it won't hurt, but eventually I'll get over it. At least I hope I will. Maybe she'll plague the rest of my existence. She'll sit in the back of my mind, a reminder of all the ways I went wrong. She'll torment my waking hours and haunt my dreams every night. It'll be an apt punishment for thinking a witch like her would ever want a demon like me.
She's almost out the door when she stops and glances over her shoulder. “Aren't you coming?”
“Not anytime soon, little witch.” My attempt at a joke falls flat. I clear my throat and mutter, “I'll wallow here instead.”
“What if I need help?”
“You won't need my help. Actually, I can't.” I doubt the magic would allow me to participate in erasing my existence from this plane. I don't know the consequences, especially since she used that damned book. The thing has a vindictive side.
She turns, confusion splashed across her face. “What do you mean, you can’t?”
“No demons, Clara. None.”
She tilts her head, and I see the exact moment it clicks. She nods once, then spins around and stomps out of the room. My eyes slam shut and I wait for the familiar tug to drag me back to Hell.
“Ishouldn't be doing this,” I whisper as I dig around in the canning cellar.
It's not technically a cellar. This house doesn't have a large basement, only three small rooms tucked behind thick wooden doors. I doubt I'll find what I'm looking for in here. Most of the shelves are empty now, marking the end of my mother's influence over my food choices. Pain stabs at my heart at the thought, yet I shove the grief deep down.
I huff, then shove the door shut and move on to the next closet. Old paint cans and random tile samples fill the room. I don't know what exactly I'm looking for, but I keep grabbing various containers. One after another, they all fail me. I push aside a paint roller and it clatters to the concrete floor.
A chill snakes up my spine, leading to a full-body shudder. I should have put on slippers and maybe a sweatshirt. Anything would be better than this thin robe. I miss Omen's radiating heat. I wonder if controlling fire is something all demons can door if it's just Omen. There's so much about him I don't know, yet it's like he's been part of my life forever.
“Ridiculous,” I mutter.
“What's ridiculous?” A deep voice asks from behind me and I spin around, a scream escaping me.
Demon. Not Omen, obviously. His dark skin lacks a reddish tint and he doesn't have tattoos. No horns. No wings. No shadows. He grins, revealing a sharp row of teeth. I wince and they disappear. Not behind his lips, but into regular teeth one would find in a human. He must be masking his true form, but why?
I hold my hands up as if that will stop him from attacking me. I swallow hard and the cans rattle as my back hits the shelves. Alarm flashes in his eyes. Or maybe hunger. I'm not exactly in the right mind to gauge someone's feelings.
Omen.My mouth forms his name, yet no sound comes out. Maybe I can summon him through sheer willpower or speaking to him through my mind.
“Oh, that's a witch's scared face. My bad.” He backs away, and I suck in a sharp gasp. I didn't even realize I was holding my breath. “I'm Dimitri. Did Omen tell you about me? Or does that mean absolutely nothing to you? Shit.”
“You're Dimitri?” I croak.
“Yup, that's me.” He grins again asI drop my hands onto my knees and attempt to calm my racing heart. “You good? Where's Omen? Should I get him?”
“You ask too many questions,” I wheeze.
He steps closer and I tense, forcing him to retreat once more. “Can't get answers without asking the right questions. What are you looking for?”
