Page 50 of The Devil and His Sparrow

Eventually, my eyes burned with a need to take a break. I dropped the book next to me, rubbed my eyes, and let out a tired sigh.

“All done?” Zagan asked, the pen still moving over my leg.

“I wish. I’ll take a break from reading and notes if you’ll quiz me.”

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the couch cushion. The pressure to do well wound my shoulders tightly. I wanted this dinner with Mom. I wanted to hear her say, “Well done.”

“Sure,” Zagan said. His hand and the pen finally left my leg. “I finished my drawing, so I can quiz you now. I’m gonna grab a drink first. Want some water or coffee?”

“Coffee,” I immediately replied. “Please and thank you.”

He slipped out from under my legs, and I listened to his footfalls against the tile drift further away. I kept my head leaned back with my eyes closed until my curiosity to see what he’d drawn got the better of me.

When I looked at my leg, the exhaustion fizzled away as awe took its place. Wanting to get a better look at the image that took up the entirety of my skin from my panty line to my knee, I quickly leapt to my feet and went to the towering mirror that stood across from the stairwell. My mouth dried when I met my reflection.

I must’ve been studying for a long time, because his drawing was elaborate and beautiful. A round cage sat nestled in roses and vines, which looked too real and vibrant to have been made in the time they were. The door to the cage was open, and standing inside, looking at the open door, stood a sparrow.

I swallowed hard, and my eyes watered. It was gorgeous.

And heartbreaking.

Zagan appeared behind me in the mirror. The coffee brewing in the kitchen to our left was the only sound as he looked at his drawing then met my eyes in the reflection. “Do you like it?”

I stared at the drawing, one that could easily be mistaken as a tattoo. It made me feel beautiful, like I myself was a work of art. My lip trembled. “No.”

“Because you see yourself in that sparrow?” he challenged. “So much beauty beyond the cage. The sparrow could easily fly away. Be free. But it stays in the cage. Too afraid to even try opening its wings to soar.”

“Maybe it’s afraid of falling, because it doesn’t know how to use its wings,” I argued.

“Is it afraid of falling?” He cocked his head and leaned in closer to my back, dropping his voice. “Or is it afraid of flying? Of realizing the safety of the cage had always been a lie, something that was actually hurting it instead of protecting it?”

A tear slid down my cheek as I held his unwavering gaze in the mirror. I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t move. He turned and walked back to the kitchen while I stayed rooted to the spot. I looked back at the sparrow tucked in her cage.

I couldn’t be that sparrow.

I wouldn’t be that sparrow.

I vowed as I stared at my reflection that I’d one day spread my wings and fly.

Chapter 16

Zagan

I WAS ANNOYED. REALLY ANNOYED. I’d been irritated since the day Iyla came over to study. I watched the way she poured over all this shit that she didn’t actually care about until her eyes got red from lack of rest or her shoulders got tight to the point where she constantly had to move and rub them. She was wearing herself out, and for what?

A mother who didn’t give a damn about her.

I never claimed to be an expert on parenthood. For starters, I wasn’t one, and I didn’t have any. Demons were created when there was a need for more temptation to keep the balance in the world, so I didn’t know everything when it came to a parent-child relationship. But I’d seen millions of families throughout my time, and Iyla’s mom was far from a good one.

So she gave her money for living expenses. Big fucking deal. It wasn’t out of love. It was so she could maintain control. If she controlled Iyla’s house, school, food, her sister, her beliefs, she controlled Iyla. And that was what she wanted. Not a relationship with her daughter. Control of her daughter.

Iyla was a good person. Even as a demon, I could see that. So watching her try to be this obedient husk of what she could be pissed me off.

Iyla was my bond.

I wasn’t about to let her break herself to please someone. The only person she needed to please was herself.

And me, of course.

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