Page 109 of Spit

I hoped Sev got the message to Legion, and they were coming.

But that was all I had,hope.

I didn’t trust other people easily. I was notoriously bad at letting other people help me. It made me feel weak and useless.

Now, I had been forced into a situation as a captive. I’d found the missing demons, but I wasn’t a savior. I was a victim just like them.

I hated it.

I spoke to Mars. Rambling words on dry lips about my curse. About Dylan Cartwright, who had stalked me until I had left Beaux Bridge. Of avoiding men and trying to make a living. A life filled with fear of even a single kiss.

When I had been held down when my first adult boyfriend in NOLA had taken my refusal to kiss as an ‘uppity hang up’ and decided I needed to learn a lesson.

Of being called a bitch for having boundaries like no kissing, either sets of my lips.

The demon listened, eventually coming out of the shadows, step by tentative step.

Maybe I was expecting a demon like Arlo, scarred and muscular, but Mars was a different beast entirely.

A cross between a komodo dragon, and some kind of dog, his hide was made of armored scales that shone like malachite. His legs were long, and his tail was thick and stuck out like a raptor, though his body was lower to the ground on all fours.

Envy, given form.

Mars slumped on his belly, holding his arms out and placing his head between them. He was still unsure, but I didn’t think he would hurt me.

“It would be nice if you could talk back.” I sighed, looking at the ceiling.

Mars whined.

“You’re trapped in that form, huh?” I nodded. “Did they give you drugs as well?”

Mars nodded, cocking his head to the side. His glassy eyes filled with questions.

I rubbed my stomach, wincing when my hand skimmed my wound. “I’m always hungry. This is nothing.” I lied, ignoring the sweat that had frozen to my forehead with the effort of hiding how much I was affected. I would have taken off my shirt and started eating it, but then I would be colder than I already was, and I wasn’t sure what would win in a fight—temperature or starvation.

Mars stepped forward, his head down as he stalked towards me.

I no longer had the energy to move. Even my shadow couldn’t do much—he sniffed Mars before deeming him a non-threat.

The beast approached, eying me as if I would attack him. I had assumed his beautiful scales were thick enough to protect him, but as the demon grew closer, I realized several of his scales were missing. The skin underneath was scarred and bumpy.

“What are you doing?” I whispered as I laid my hand on his flank. I’d expected him to be cold, but he wasn’t. He was warm.

I sighed. “I forgot what heat feels like,” I told him.

The beast chuffed a laugh as he crawled onto my legs. He was heavy, but his heat was more than enough to make up for it. Mars curled around me—so large that his body hid my torso from view as he laid down on my legs and got comfortable.

“You’re like my own personal space heater,” I told him, earning another chuffing laugh.

Chapter Nineteen

Arlo POV

Arlo felt an inch tall.

He had prided himself on being more than fists, muscles, and anger that couldn’t be sated. He had built a reputation as a demon of study and science. He should have connected the dots and realized that Camio was still alive.

When Camio had been one of the seven facets that ruled the Red City, Arlo and he had spent countless evenings talking about the chemical composition of drugs versus the magical concoctions that divine magic used and the simplicity of demon magic.

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