Page 49 of A Study of Blood and Ichor

When he looked up at us, his whole body went rigid, eyes widening as he took me in. Rory’s mouth opened and closed. “You look…”

“Demon got your tongue, Masters?”

Rory clamped his mouth shut and reset his features into a mask of indifference. A stray lock of his dark hair fell forward over his eyes, and my fingers itched to brush it back neatly into place. He cleared his throat and absently tugged at his glove.

Nesera’s eyes bounced between us, before pumping her eyebrows in Rory’s direction and then slipped away after calling over her shoulder, “Have fun, kids!”

I turned back to Rory and gave the straps of my dress an anxious tug, trying to distract myself from how undeniably hot he looked in a suit.

“Is this outfit really necessary?” I asked. “I feel ridiculous.”

“According to Vain, the demons at these gatherings flaunt their humans around like pets. So, if we want to blend in, it’s either this or you can go nude. Your choice.”

“So, I’m his pet then?”

Rory threw his hands up. “You said it, not me. You do look the part though. It’s almost convincing.”

“Almost?”

He smirked. “Don’t worry. We’re going to make sure you can fool every demon in the city when we’re done.”

I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that.

“Are you not afraid?” I asked him.

“I should be asking you that.”

“I’m used to being surrounded by demons.”

Rory took a tentative step forward. “It’s okay to admit you’re terrified,” he said. “No matter how strong of a front you’re putting on.”

“It’s not a front,” I insisted.

Another step, and then Rory’s eyes flicked over to black.

“Of course, it’s not,” the demon teased.

Narrowing my eyes at Vain, I asked, “Are we going to get on with this or what?”

“Patience, mellilla,” he hummed and then made a come-hither motion with two fingers.

My skin buzzed as I glided up to him until we were toe to toe.

Vain turned his head slightly to the side to better display Rory’s neck—the side that prominently showed off the dark V tattooed there.

“Do you know what this mark means?” he asked, pointing to it.

“Vain?” I guessed. “Because you’re an insufferably vain asshole?”

“Your humor knows no bounds, my dear,” Vain clipped. “It’s a reminder to everyone that I own this body.”

The demon’s energy was palpable, heavy and ancient all at once. I felt as if I could barely take a full breath.

"Pull your hair back for me,” he said, lowering his voice to a deep whisper.

Brushing them aside so my locks spilled down my mostly bare back, I watched as Vain slipped a short selenite knife from under the sleeve of his shirt. He reached his gloved hand to cup my jaw while he raised the blade to my throat, and I suppressed a shiver.

“What are you doing?”

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