Page 78 of Gift for a Demon

He didn’t understand how Melchom was dealing with him. Dove wouldn’t be as patient, and he’d needed to have patience in spades when he was on Earth.

I know. We’re there now.

Oh.

For some reason, Dove looked around. Of course, he didn’t see anything other than his convoluted version of a brain. He’d have to ask Melchom about it one day.

Hold my hand, Dove. So I can take you to your friend.

He didn’t know if Jordan was still a friend, but Dove did it anyway. Melchom’s skin still ran hot, even in this… dimension. He didn’t know what lingo the demon would prefer.

You’re not responding to my thoughts.

I can’t hear them here. Melchom flinched, like Dove had just reminded him a part of him was missing. He felt bad if that was the case. It’s hard to explain, but when you’re here, your brain is focused on your survival, not creating new pathways to showcase trains of thoughts or relevant memories.

Dove frowned. He’d just been watching his memories, but he guessed it was one of those magick things he just had to accept. He didn’t want to be argumentative, anyway. That would be reserved for the future, if he wanted to annoy Melchom.

If there was going to be a future with him. He remembered Melchom saying when he’d first visited that he still wanted Dove. Dove would have to trust that was real.

Are you ready?

No. Yes.

He didn’t have a choice. That wasn’t anything new. It was his reality. He felt like it had always been his reality and always would be.

It didn’t matter. Dove glanced up again, letting that peace calm him as he took a deep breath. With his eyes shut, he let the gentle breeze cleanse him.

When he next opened them, he was in a completely different setting. The room was dark, only a couple lanterns in the wall letting him see more of its inside.

A man hunched down against a corner. Jordan.

His friend—old friend—looked up.

He scrambled upright when he saw Dove, but that wasn’t quite right. Jordan would never be scared of him. At least, Dove never would’ve thought that would happen.

“It worked?” Jordan’s gaze focused on him, but Dove got the feeling he wasn’t seeing him. Not quite.

What worked?

“Are you still delusional about your satanic cult, then?”

Dove lost his footing. The voice was Melchom’s, but he couldn’t see where it had come from.

Easy, tiny Dove. You’re in my head, and I’m in Jordan’s cell.

Oh.

Dove felt cold. It had been a long time. He guessed it had to make sense. He was unconscious, after all.

“Your Majesty.” Jordan kneeled quickly before Melchom.

His Melchom.

Dove would’ve growled if that was a thing he did. Alas, he was better house trained.

“Stand up.” Dove could feel the anger rushing through Melchom’s body. “Your sycophancy repels me.”

Jordan paled. It didn’t look like he’d had a good meal in days. He was more clothed than Dove had ever been in Hell, though.

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