Page 38
Chapter eighteen
The excess attention we both place on the act of eating sandwiches would be comical if not for the degree of awkwardness thickening the air. My nerves are frazzled, the idea of a snake slithering about inside me, or wherever it is supposed to be, scratches about like an itch that cannot be tamed.
Micah reaches for my notebook, scanning my scribbled notes. “You’re thorough, that’s for sure.”
“I’m an attorney. One embarrassingly good enough to get a demon off on the crime of murder. And according to you and that book, I should have known Jeremy to be a demon.”
He glances up at me, his expression indecipherable, several beats passing. I think…he’s considering saying something to me. Clearly thinking better of the idea, he simply flips the page he’s been studying and returns his attention to my notes. Utterly frustrated, I want to scream at him for answers. Instead, I reach for my bottle of water as if a cool drink of nothing will wash away ash and demons, which, technically, it might, should ash land in one’s mouth, as it did mine back in Breckenridge. I consider asking him how much ash one must ingest to die, but I’m not sure that topic plays well with sandwiches.
He taps a page of my notes, indicating something I’ve written. “This here, your question about vampires and sunlight. Vampires are weaker in sunlight, but it won’t kill them. You’ll need to dispose of the fables you’ve heard in the human world. And they don’t turn to ash.” His blue eyes pierce me where I sit. “How do you kill them?”
“You’re drilling me as if I didn’t flip a few pages and look that up. You cut off their head, which I assume requires extreme strength I won’t possess, and isn’t it quite messy?”
“You’re stronger than you think, and no. They don’t bleed. You wrote that down.”
“Do you just leave the beheaded body lying where it falls?”
“You spellcast it away.”
“And even if I had that ability, is there some grand swampland where vampire bodies all float about until magical alligators eat them?”
“Aren’t you funny?” His tone is dry and unamused.
“So funny, I’d say I sound as if I’m drinking, only, according to you, I can’t get drunk.”
“Not on human alcohol.”
“So, there’s non-human alcohol? Are there magical elves creating it? And is there Nephilim money I would use to purchase it? You have to know this all sounds insane to me, and I feel as if that’s exactly what’s happening. I’m losing my mind.”
His expression softens, understanding flitting across his brutally handsome features. “I know this must be a lot to take in. You’ve lived as a human, and humans live in ignorance.”
“Why do you let them live that way? Isn’t knowledge protection?”
“Ignorance is a gift. Why would you want them to live in fear of what they cannot fight? That’s our job.” He lifts the pad with my notes. “And judging from what you’ve written down—the depth and detail—you like knowing the truth, the facts.”
He’s right. I do, and I’m terrifyingly ignorant right now. My throat is thick as I dare seek answers part of me doesn’t want to know. “He spoke to me the way you did. In my head.”
His energy sharpens, and his eyes narrow on me. “Who?”
“Jeremy.”
He goes still as stone, his expression unreadable. “What did he say?”
“He taunted me like he did you. Can demons do that? Get in my head. Is that normal?”
“I’m not sure what the definition of normal is with Jeremy. Or you, for that matter.”
Anger spikes in me, and I push to my feet. “Do not connect me to that monster. I am not like him.”
He’s standing across from me now, and the table between us would mean nothing if he wanted to get to me. “He’s targeted you, Ember. It’s impossible not to make a connection.”
“You spoke in my head, too. I felt you there. Why is that any different?”
“I am not him. He was trying to rip you open from the inside out. I was trying to save you.”
He’s right. I felt him. I felt what he did. Of course, he’s right. “You forced him out of my head,” I say, and it’s not a question.
“I did, but I didn’t hear him speak to you. I felt him. I felt what he was doing to you.”
