“You are smaller, smarter, and the burrower will only take notice of you if you hurt it. I learned some time ago that ripping the heart from humans would allow them to enter a void.”
“And how did you stumble upon that discovery?” said Cora tartly, but Dee ignored her.
“How long?” asked Dee. “How long until this mega-void appears?”
The Daemon’s lips pursed. “A few weeks,” he replied. “I cannot be more specific than that. In a few weeks, the world will be… thinner. Easier to push through. And then we will end the invasion before it can begin.”
“And if we don’t?” asked Riley flatly. “What if we tell you to fuck off?”
The Daemon smiled thinly. “You could, but I doubt you will.”
“Why?”
The Daemon turned to walk away. He spoke over one perfectly tailored shoulder. “Because—should you fail, this city would not fare well. These creatures warp reality. They can change the environment or the land adversely.”
“Meaning?” said Riley, sounding impatient. “What? We’d get some earthquakes or a lot of rain?”
The Daemon’s mouth remained a thin line. “I believe the last place that endured such an incursion was Pompeii.”
Silence. Someone drew a sharp breath, but Dee couldn’t tell who.
“Like I said,” continued the Daemon, “they can affect the environment in ways you would not want. After all, this city is near several active volcanoes, is it not?”
James looked angry. He edged forward, eyes hard and fists balled. “We didn’t sign up for this,” he said. “You didn’t tell us anything—you took our hearts, promised us what we wished for, then led us blindly into war.”
But Dee was not angry.
She had walked willingly into a fairy tale, into a world where she could trade her heart for her freedom. She may as well have donned a red cloak and strode into a darkened forest.
She had always known there would be wolves.
I chose this.
Several days after the bank, Dee found Cora waiting for her outside of Whiteaker dorm. Cora sat on the steps, a visitor’s badge clipped to her jeans. Of course she’d get a visitor’s pass, Dee thought. It was the responsible thing to do.
Dee approached the other girl slowly. The way she might have walked up to a wounded animal. “Cora?”
Cora looked up at Dee, but not as if she truly saw her. “I hate this,” she said hollowly. “I hate this so much.”
And for the first time, Dee felt a twinge of sympathy for Cora. She took a few steps closer. “Why did you make a deal?”
There was no hiding, not anymore.
“I needed the Daemon to kill someone for me,” said Cora.
Dee hesitated, then sat on the step beside her. She tried to compose her expression. She was doing a terrible job of it, she knew—she looked as appalled as she felt. “I—I thought demons didn’t kill.”
“Most won’t,” said Cora. The words seemed to float out of her, slow and steady, as if she were releasing a burden. “They don’t want to tangle with the authorities. But the Agathodaemon—he’s breaking all the rules. He’s like, a renegade among the demons or something. He wants heartless teenagers, wants them badly enough to do things other demons wouldn’t.” She tilted her head up, and the light from the overhead lamp cast shadows over her pretty face.
“I wanted someone dead.” She closed her eyes.
Dee wondered what could have driven Cora to do such a thing—she was always so set on everyone’s survival, on keeping the team together.
“Did he do it?” asked Dee quietly.
Cora smiled—and it was a rueful little smile. “He has my heart, doesn’t he?”
And then Dee truly saw Cora for the first time. Saw the girl who tried to keep everyone alive because she thought it was penance for a life she took. The girl who looked put together but was scrambling behind the facade.
