“Fauna”—he said her name testily—“called you an idiot every ten seconds. She said it so many times that you started to believe it. Here you are,Forbes 30 Under 30, speaks five, six, ten languages, international bestseller, is Hell’s Princess but manages to navigate between realms while bound to no one. Fauna talks down to people affectionately. And she has a liberal relationship with the truth.”
I deflected his compliments with a correction. “She’s a liar.”
“Tell me something,” he said. He beckoned for me to unfurl myself. I looked down at my knees and frowned, but the truth was, I was drunk, and I wanted to sprawl. I returned my feet to his lap. He rubbed my arch idly as he said, “When you left the church and started escorting, why didn’t you tell your mother?”
My gasp cut through the last lights of sunset.
I was suddenly too sober for this conversation.
“I think you didn’t tell her because you knew that it would hurt her. That you were doing what you needed to do, and that her knowing wouldn’t be in anyone’s best interest.”
I growled as I punched him in the arm, then winced, shaking my hand free of the numbing sensation it sent through my arm. Through my teeth, I said, “It’s not the same. For thisto be an accurate comparison, I’d have to be whoring out my mom without her knowledge.”
“I’m sorry. Did Fauna force you to have sex with a demon?”
I glared.
“Did she push either of you into a relationship? Was she the one who guided you into sex work so you’d fit some lore and be whatever they needed you to be to fulfill some prophecy? She knew what everyone knew. And she knew it would hurt you to hear it.”
“But you told me.”
He sighed. “And I hurt you.”
I turned to get up from the couch. The night was over. I wanted to go to bed.
Silas grabbed my wrist. “You’re mad because she didn’t do anything to you except know things you didn’t. You’re holding her accountable for omission. Do you know how many things I know that you don’t?”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Sit down,” he said, tone softening. There was no hard edge to his expression. I studied him carefully before sinking back into the couch.
I should have fought it. I should have stormed off. But I didn’t. He lifted his arm, and I wasn’t sure why I did it, but I let him tuck me against him. It felt so good to be held, gorgeously buzzed at home while the TV played. “Damn it, Marlow, life is going to be very hard if you don’t learn how to let people love you.”
“Then let it be hard,” I said, closing my eyes as I relaxed into his cloud of spice.
“You don’t mean that.”
I folded into a comfortable ball, curling against the pillar of warmth and strength on my couch. My body was more liquor than blood at this point, but I liked the way it felt. I frowned, nuzzling closer to listen.
“You don’t have a heartbeat,” I said.
He grabbed my hand gently and guided it to his neck, pressing my fingers against his jugular.
“Oh,” I murmured sleepily. “Then maybe you shouldn’t wear your armor all the time. It’s hard to hear through this.”
He chuckled quietly. “I suppose I’ll have to change out of this, soon.”
“I have some things from an ex,” I said, though the words struggled to swim up from the dark bottom of a lake. “He was almost your size. I’ll find them for you tomorrow.” I slumped downward with my final word. I groaned when he didn’t let me fall asleep on his lap. Instead, I dry heaved as the world moved, the ground disappearing beneath my feet. He could have been dropping me out the window and into the river or jumping me to Heaven; it all felt equally discombobulating. My hand flew to my mouth.
“Shh, hang on,” came his voice as a cloud of silk and comfort cradled me. Fingers scraped against my temple, holding the side of my head as a thumb wiped across my forehead. In an instant, I felt the poison leach from my body. My nausea evaporated. In its place, only exhaustion remained.
“I need to do my skincare routine,” I mumbled.
“Go to bed.” He laughed quietly as he headed for the door.
“Silas?”
His silhouette blocked out the dim light from the hall as he waited.
A swelling pendulum swung within me, each anxious throb tugging me between possibilities. I could remain silent. I could keep my thoughts to myself. But I stared my past and present in the face as I invited an angel into my bedroom.
“Maybe you don’t have to go to the other room. Maybe…you could sleep next to me tonight.”
