Page 30 of The Demon's Tongue

I brush off my clothes with shaky hands, trying desperately to regain some semblance of composure. My cheek still stings from the blows, and I can feel a bruise forming. "You could havehelped, you know," I say, my voice trembling slightly despite my efforts to steady it. "He slapped me twice. He could have knocked me out and..." I trail off, unable to finish the sentence. The memory is too fresh, too raw. I can still feel his hands on me, smell his rancid breath. A shudder runs through me.

Calix's piercing red eyes gleam. His gaze makes me feel exposed, vulnerable. "But he didn't," he says, his voice smooth and unaffected. "You always say these strange little things after killing the dark elves." He pauses, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "You handled it. That's what matters."

His casual tone, as if we're discussing the weather rather than my near-assault and subsequent kill, sends a chill down my spine. I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the warmth of the room.

"Is that all that matters to you?" I snap, frustration bubbling up inside me. "Just completing the deal?"

He raises an eyebrow. "You said it yourself. You would do anything for your freedom. I'm confused by your attitude. You should be thrilled by the fact you captured another soul."

I open my mouth to retort, then close it again. He's right, of course. That's why I summoned him in the first place. But something has shifted, and I'm not sure I understand what's happening between us anymore.

I hold out the crystal containing Sylas's soul, my hand steady despite the turmoil in my mind. "Here," I say, words teeming with weariness. "That's two down."

Calix eyes the crystal, his lips curving into a smirk. He doesn't take it. Not yet. "Well, well. Look who's becoming quite the soul-snatcher."

"Just take it," I huff, shoving the crystal towards him. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

He doesn't move to grab it. Instead, he circles me, his gaze intense. "What I want, little human, is for you to understand the gravity of what you're doing."

I roll my eyes, dropping my arm. "Trust me, I get it. I'm damning souls for my freedom. It's not exactly a picnic."

"Oh?" Calix stops in front of me, leaning in close. His scent fills my nostrils. "And here I thought you were enjoying our little arrangement."

I try to step back, but my legs collide with Sylas's lifeless body. A shudder runs through me at the contact, and I stumble, my heart racing. Calix catches me before I can topple over, his grip firm on my arms. The heat of his hands seeps through my clothing.

"Careful now," he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. The proximity makes me dizzy, and I can smell his distinctive scent, one that has become so familiar to me. "Wouldn't want you to fall." There's a hint of amusement in his voice, as if he's enjoying my discomfort. I want to pull away, but his hold on me is unyielding, and a part of me—a part I'm not ready to acknowledge—doesn't want to move.

What's going on with me? Why do I feel this way around him?

I push against his chest, creating some space between us. "I'm fine. And yes, I understand what I'm doing. Now, can we move on? What's next?"

Instead of responding immediately, his eyes trail down my body, focusing on my arm. I stare at Calix, bewildered, as he gently takes my wrist. His touch sends a shiver through me, but I'm too stunned to pull away. His crimson eyes narrow, focusing on a scratch I hadn't even noticed in the chaos.

"What are you—" I start, but my words catch in my throat as he reaches for one of Sylas' silk handkerchiefs resting on his desk.

With unexpected care, Calix tears a strip from the expensive fabric. "Hold still," he murmurs, his voice low and oddly soothing.

I watch with wide eyes as he wraps the makeshift bandage around my arm. His fingers are deft and gentle, antithetical to his true nature. The silk feels cool against my skin, a small comfort amidst the turmoil of the night.

"I... I didn't even realize I was hurt," I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Calix's lips quirk into a half-smile. "Adrenaline. It's quite a thing. You can survive the worst of injuries when your body is being fueled off of it." He finishes tying off the bandage, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

I swallow hard, trying to make sense of this unexpected tenderness. "Why do you care?" The words tumble out before I can stop them.

His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see something flicker behind them—something almost... tender. But it's gone in an instant, replaced by his usual smirk.

"Can't have my little soul-catcher getting infected, can I?" he quips, releasing my arm. "You've still got one more to go, remember?"

I nod, still off-balance from his sudden show of concern. "Right. One more."

Calix steps back, creating space between us. The air feels cooler without his proximity. "You should rest," he says, his tone back to its usual businesslike cadence. "You've had quite a night."

I glance at Sylas' body, a cold shiver running down my spine as the reality of what I've done hits me anew. The sight of him lying there, lifeless, makes my stomach churn. "What about...?" I can't even finish the sentence, my voice trailing off as I gesture weakly towards the corpse.

Calix's eyes follow my gaze, and I see a flicker of understanding cross his face. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it just like before," he assures me, his tone surprisingly gentle. "And the crystal. You've earned a break." He places a hand on my shoulder, and I feel some of the tension leave my body. Despite everything, I'm grateful for his presence, for not having to deal with this mess alone.

Who knew I'd be so appreciative of this demon?

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