Page 15 of Katya and the Young God

The Demigod’s eyes glitter at her, never breaking eye contact, even as Feketer takes the chair next to Katya.

“That could have gone better,” he whispers to her, like he didn’t have knowledge of who would be there and who she would have to see. Like he couldn’t have told her, let her run, let her get away and never have to see the face from her nightmares ever again.

“You could have told me.” There’s a lump in her throat that makes whispering difficult, and if Feketer responds, she doesn’t hear him.

The minor demon, the pale imitation of the Archdemon she’s worked with, is speaking, but she can’t get her ears to focus on his words. All she can hear is her pulse, thudding loudly, drowning out the meaning, leaving only vague sound.

The dog, Stepan, stands, puts his head on the Demigod’s lap, and without breaking eye contact with Katya, he pats his head. As if this is a familiar motion, as if this is something they do all the time.

There’s a small twinge of betrayal, that this dog actually belongs to such a monster, when it had been so friendly to her, but that’s an irrational thought and she knows it’s irrational and she knows she’s not responding logically to anything but…

She breaks the eye contact, forces her eyes to focus on the minor demon, who’s pacing around like he thinks of himself like a tech inventor. He’s speaking, pretending to be charismatic, and she takes a deep breath, one right after another, until she can listen.

Actually listen.

Do her job.

Though if the Organization knew who is here, they absolutely expected her to die. To be slaughtered at first sight, in a way they could theoretically be faultless for.

But no. She has to listen.

“I have a team of experienced cavers, who will guide us through any possible problems, who have experience running caves in the area,” he’s saying, when Katya gets her heart under control. “They’ll act as guides once we reach past the first seal —"

“Do we know if there’s more than one?” The Vampire speaks up, and their voice is a smooth, genderless tenor.

With the specter of the Demigod, Katya’s normal fear of Vampires mutes. They’re no longer the scariest monster in the room.

The minor demon points to the Vampire, like he fashions himself a cool teacher. “No, we don’t, but our ultrasound scan of the area suggests that’s the only chokepoint where it would be logical to set one up.” His voice is smooth, full of the sort of confidence that would be more suited for a used car salesman. “So if there are others, we should be able to overcome them, but we’re not anticipating it at this time.”

Feketer’s watching her, she can tell out of the corner of her eye, but she’s more inclined to walk back to the cabin from here than ever talk to him again. He knew.

Beatriz knew as well.

“We’ll have more than enough humans to sacrifice if needed, no offense ma’am,” the half-demon says, giving a smarmy smile to Katya. “You’re not considered in that number.”

“Peachy,” Katya hears herself say, voice dry, and there’s a small rumble of laughter in the room, as if they find her sarcasm clever.

The minor demon hesitates, as if not quite knowing how to react to that statement, before he visibly moves the fuck on. “I showed our guides the scans, they think it’ll be easy to traverse for those of us who haven’t gotten a degree in rock climbing.”

It’s clear there have been other meetings on this, that they all knew what to expect, that this is no big deal or great reveal of information.

She’s going to have to do so much goddamn research now, find out what she missed, find out what she can do.

Find out how to arm herself against the Demigod, who almost certainly wishes her dead.

Her eyes steal over, and he’s watching her, his face blank, the dog’s head still in his lap.

Feketer said, no, Feketer suggested that he told everyone she would be there. The Demigod would have been ready for her, been able to prepare, and yet…

And yet he didn’t smite her down the moment she drew her gun. Not even when she was about to pull the trigger.

As if he can read her thoughts, his jaw clenches, but before she can react, before she can do anything, the minor demon claps his hands again, in a clear conclusion of his speech.

“And that’s all the updates before the big day, I’ll have more when we hit base camp on Friday,” he says, smooth, and it sets off the hair rising on the back of her neck. She doesn’t trust him, she doesn’t trust him one bit, and he’s the one organizing this entire thing. “I’ll email everyone—I’ll need your best contact ma’am—with anything else.” With a wink towards Katya, he gestures for people to get up, to mingle, as if this is a meeting of friends.

And just like that, somehow, everyone does so. Starts talking to each other, in hushed tones, about the contents of the meeting that Katya most definitely did not absorb at all.

Before she can decide what to do, the minor demon makes a bee-line for her, holding out his hand, like he massively misread her body language. “Why hello! You must be Katya!”

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