Taming Demons for Beginners (The Guild Codex Demonized #1) - Annette Marie Page 0,28
back a foot to avoid making the same mistake twice. As I moved to set the bowl safely aside, I frowned. “It’s cold.”
The glass should’ve been hot from the soup. He’d only just drunk it.
Zylas settled more comfortably on the floor. “I took the heat.”
I placed the bowl beside me and looked around. “Have you been taking the heat from this room, too? Is that why it’s cold?”
“Only the heat in the circle.”
The inner circle had been frigid. That’s what had made me realize something was wrong—that I’d crossed the barrier.
“Demons need food, heat, and light to survive?” I asked.
“Food or heat or light,” he corrected. “Heat and light are better.”
I rubbed my forehead—and my soup-stained sleeve slapped me in the face. Cringing, I pulled my arm out of the sleeve.
“In books,” I said as I peeled my sweater off, “demons are always described as creatures of cold and darkness, but you live off warmth and light?”
I tossed my sweater behind me and straightened my tank top. Zylas’s gaze tracked the motion.
“What is that?”
“Huh?” I followed his stare. A purple bruise in the shape of grasping fingers, tinged with green and yellow where it had begun to heal, marked my upper arm. “It’s a bruise.”
“I do not know that word.”
“A bruise is an injury.” I shrugged self-consciously. “From being hit or squeezed or crushed by something.”
His curiosity waned. “Hh’ainun are fragile.”
“Compared to demons, I guess we are.” I resettled on the floor. “I can’t stay much longer or Uncle Jack will catch me again. Will you be okay now?”
“Eshathē zh’ūltis.” He closed his eyes. “Īt eshanā zh’ūltis.”
I waited to see if he would say anything comprehensible. “What does that mean?”
“You are stupid … and I am stupid.”
My gaze dropped to my hands in my lap, and I didn’t ask him to explain. His meaning was obvious. The hot soup would merely prolong the inevitable … and prolong his suffering. He would die anyway. Keeping him alive in his half-dome prison was a cruelty in itself. I was stupid for giving it to him, and he was stupid for accepting it.
“Don’t enter into a contract,” I blurted.
His eyes flashed open.
“Don’t do it,” I repeated, the hoarse intensity of my voice surprising me. “My uncle—the summoners are waiting for you to get weak and desperate. They’ll try to convince you to do it to save your life, but you can’t let them win.”
He stared at me, then a wolfish grin revealed his pointed canines. “Do not fear, payilas. I will laugh at them as I die.”
“Good,” I said fiercely. “They deserve to fail. I’ll laugh at them too.”
He smirked, but the expression swiftly faded. Exhaustion lay over him like a heavy cloud. The soup had helped, but not much.
“I’ll come back tomorrow night,” I whispered, “and remind you that you’ll never submit to one of us high-nuns.”
“Huh-ah-i-nun,” he corrected with a spark of irritation.
A choked giggle escaped me, and I blinked rapidly. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Go away, payilas.”
I clambered up, collected the bowl and my sweater, and crossed the room. At the door, I looked back.
“Zylas,” I called softly. “Darken the circle.”
His tail flicked, then the circle faded to black, hiding his prone form. I switched the lights off and crept up the stairs.
Only when I had closed my bedroom door behind me did I allow the burning tears to fall. I stumbled to my bed and fell onto it, an ache burrowing deep into my heart.
I’ll see you tomorrow. If he made it that long. He might not. He was so weak. Fading fast. Soon, he would be gone, and his torture would be over.
I pushed my face into my pillow, muffling my quiet sobs. I cried because this world was so cruel—cruelty inflicted by and upon demons and humans both. I cried because I was a fool to pity a demon, to inflict pain and grief on myself over a heartless monster. I cried because I was alone with no one to turn to, no one to ask what I should do, no one to comfort the aching grief. I would’ve happily died myself if, just for tonight, my mother could hold me one more time.
My tears eventually ran dry, but sleep didn’t come for many hours.
Chapter Eleven
Zylas survived the next day.
I hadn’t snuck down to the library yet, but I didn’t need to see him to know he was still kicking. Standing at the kitchen counter, I suppressed a bitterly satisfied smirk as Uncle Jack’s shouts rang down