House. The sigil must have appeared on the infernus after we’d formed our contract. I gazed down at him, his arms folded and cheek resting on them. Fighting the urge to creep away and hide in a corner, I set his armguard on the bedside table and sat beside him.
“Zylas …” I took a deep breath. “Once Tahēsh has been stopped—by other mythics—I’ll start researching a way to get you home.”
“Why not now?”
“It’s part of blending in. All the guilds are hunting Tahēsh. Until he’s stopped, anything I do will draw too much attention to us.”
He assessed me coldly, then turned his head the other way. I wilted. Zylas had probably hated me all along, so I didn’t know why his resentment bothered me so much.
Pointedly ignoring me, he kneaded his right shoulder to work out the stiffness. Without thinking, I pressed my thumb into the muscle that ran alongside his shoulder blade.
He shot up onto his hands and knees, teeth bared. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry!” I yelped, flinching backward. “I—I was trying to help …”
He glowered at me, then sank back down onto his stomach. His tail snapped sideways, betraying his agitation. “Go away.”
I started to get up—then hesitated. He might have healed his injuries, but he was stiff and probably sore. Drawing in a steadying breath, I put a knee on the bed, then pressed both hands to his back and ran my thumbs over his shoulders with firm pressure.
He hissed like an angry snake. “Go away.”
“My mom would spend hours hunched over faded grimoires,” I said determinedly. “I used to give her a massage a few times a week. I’m pretty good at it.”
He snarled and started to rise, but I found the muscle that was bothering him—a tight band that ran from his neck to his shoulder blade—and dug both thumbs into the knot. He tensed in place. As I pushed into the muscle, he sank down under the pressure until he was lying flat again.
Angling his head, he watched me work on the taut muscle group. His muscles were so toned it was easy to trace their lines and follow the tension. I kneaded his stiff shoulder, then worked down his back. He didn’t move, warily observing as though I might pull a knife and jam it through his ribs. Maybe, in his mind, that wasn’t a far-fetched possibility—nothing in our contract prevented me from hurting him.
Shifting onto the bed, I started on his left shoulder. As I searched out the tightest muscles, my mind skittered wildly over this bizarre situation. Massaging a demon was quite possibly even stranger than feeding a demon homemade cookies … especially since his back was all stunningly defined muscle and smooth, unblemished skin. Unease trickled through me and I peeked at his face.
He was no longer watching me. Instead, he gazed vaguely at the wall, eyes half-lidded, jaw relaxed, breathing slow.
Pleasantly surprised, I hid my smile and kept going. My hands were getting tired, but the ache in my fingers was nothing compared to the pain he’d suffered because of me. Resolutely, I massaged his left shoulder then shifted down that side of his torso. When I couldn’t find any knots, I lightly traced his muscles, searching for tension.
His shoulders lifted and fell in a deep breath. I glanced up. His eyes were closed. My hands stilled, but he didn’t move.
Was he asleep?
An odd flip of pleasure in my middle caught me off guard. He’d fallen asleep while I was touching him. If that wasn’t a tiny step toward trust, I didn’t know what was.
I settled more comfortably on the bed. His breathing was slow and even, his body limp and free of tension. I slid my hand up his spine to the back of his neck, quiet wonder displacing my earlier discomfort. So close to being human, yet so different.
His skin was cooler than mine, meaning he’d yet to fully recover. Watching his face, I inched my fingers into his damp, messy black hair. My soft sense of amazement deepened.
We were bound together. I had saved his life and he had saved mine. Though it was the magic that forced him to protect me, he had fought and bled to keep me safe. I would never abuse the power I had over him again. He and I were in this together, and demon or not, he deserved as much respect and consideration as I would give anyone else who’d saved my life.
In the dark room, I settled beside