his arms, asking him to tell me there’s no monster. That it’s just my imagination. He would too. He’d tell me that. He’d do it just because I ask him to. Because I’m scared.
But it would be false.
Like the years of lies he told to protect me.
Like the one Jake told.
“I’m fine, Dad. Sorry. Kaylee’s right. You should go. I’m fine.”
I’m not fine, not by a long shot, but if Dad can lie to protect me, then I can return the favor.
He narrows his eyes at me, a bear scrutinizing his cub. At last he kisses my nose and pulls me in for a hug. “Sleep, okay? Let this little vegan—”
“Vegetarian.”
“—take care of you. You’ve got me all freaked out here.”
You’re not the only one.
The door closes behind him with a hollow rattle, and Kaylee yanks me toward her.
“You’ve lost the privilege of deferring till the second half, Elle. Talk. Now. What is going on?”
I’m out of ideas, and nothing but the truth makes sense. So I open my mouth and I tell her. “There’s a demon behind you,” I say. “In the archway between the living room and the kitchen.”
Her face goes white, her eyes shifting left and right.
“Demon, like that hot guy who used to be on Buffy but has that Bones show now? That kind of demon?”
“Nothing like that guy.”
“Fiddlesticks,” she breathes. She stands stick straight, the thin muscles in her neck taut. “What’s he doing?”
“He’s talking to me. Asking me about the Palatine.”
“Wh-What are you going to tell him?”
“I’m going to tell him the truth. That I don’t know anything about the Palatine. You hear me?” I yell toward Damien, “I don’t know anything.”
Kaylee flinches at my outburst.
Damien does not.
“But they’re coming now?” His voice is acidic, chewing away at my courage. “The Palatine are coming?”
“I don’t know,” I say, frustrated. “Are you not hearing me? I don’t know a thing.”
“Do not lie to me, human. I heard you say, ‘The Palatine are coming,’ and we still have days before that should happen. I still have days.”
He is frightened.
Dear Jesus, please let this be the right thing to say.
Please, please.
“I was repeating Helene,” I say. “That’s all. Maybe she was wrong.”
“Helene.” Damien’s face contorts at the word. I think he’s smiling. He turns his face to the sky, his fangs flashing, reflecting some unseen celestial light. And then he leaps through the roof and I lose sight of him.
Which terrifies me more than seeing him.
Still, I breathe deep. The air feels cleaner without him here. Kaylee’s grip is an anaconda on my wrist, her eyes glued to my face.
“Helene,” she whispers. “And the warehouse.” Tears clump in her hot-pink lashes.
I want to ask her what she remembers, what haunts her, but we’ll have to play catch-up later.
“Listen, Kay. Look at me. Good. I can’t see him now, but that doesn’t mean he’s gone.”
Her lip trembles. “Why? Why can’t you see him?”
“I’m not entirely sure.”
“Why could you see him before?”
“That’s another tough one to answer.”
She’s giving me that look. The same look I’m sure I gave Jake when he was struggling to explain. “Look, there are answers, Kay. Kind of. But we have to get hold of Jake. Now. Do you have your cell?”
Her mouth opens, and her eyes glaze over.
I grab her shoulders and shake. “Kay!”
“Yes. I’m sorry.” She pinches her eyes shut and shakes her head. “My phone is in the car.”
Outside. Ugh.
I look at the door like it’s a mutinous traitor. The reality is we’re not any safer here than we’d be outside. These walls, this roof over our heads—they offer nothing in the way of protection from invisible forces.
But I won’t get separated from Kaylee. That would be a mistake. Damien knows I care about her, knows I wouldn’t let her die. So to leave her without celestial eyes would be dangerous.
“Okay, then. Let’s go.” I step to the door and twist the handle. “You have your keys.”
Kaylee pats down her pockets and pulls a bedazzled key ring out of her pajama pants.
I take her hand in mine and we run down the stairs and to her car. The day is warm and bright, a glorious northwest summer day, but there’s a chill in my chest. I stay at Kaylee’s side while she jams the key in the lock and flings open the door. She reaches inside and pulls out her phone, shoving it into my hands.
I fumble with her phone, but it’s newer than mine, fancier, and I can’t find Jake’s number.