Page 49 of The Girl Who Only Died Once

She lays the compass next to it, the needle buzzing in proximity to it.

The small table has some wards written in, spells to provide clarity of thought and attention to detail, which is nice. Chloe had experimented some long ago, back before she got kicked out of the college, thinking it could help her ADHD and general manic sensations, but either she wasn’t strong enough in that style of magic or she had looked at it the wrong way.

All this does is tell her that the demon took so much time in making this place habitable and safe for the other human in it. Had made a place specifically for homework, which suggests a normal school, which is just…fascinating.

The idea of a demon caring for someone so wonderfully makes her smile, despite the lingering irritation.

“When did the college put you in prison?” Behind her, Killian speaks, and she jumps. “What year?”

“Uh…” Chloe says, pressing her hand to her chest to calm her beating heart. “I was twenty three? So eight years ago? Around there?”

“Hmm,” he says, then strides forward, tugging another scroll of paper out of her research bag, ignoring her bristling. “I tried to tie the scan to this one.”

It’s her general decoding scroll, the sort she lays maps upon for direction, one of her more rudimentary creations. Meant more for finding hidden spots, she mostly used it forfinding random graveyards with underground crypts more than anything else.

It was also one of the ones she recreated from memory after getting out of prison, using it for finding small hidden vaults in the Washington forest to keep her skills sharp.

“This won’t help you without an actual map,” she warns him, and he leans away, the curl of his brown hair shifting in the movement. “It doesn’t create out of nothing, just shows existing spots on a view.”

Instead of scoffing, he raises his eyebrows at it. “Could be useful.”

“It’s super useful if you have a small area to check,” Chloe says, as brightly as she can, as if she can cheerfully brute force her heart rate into feeling normal. “A continent, not so much. Here.”

She tugs out another scroll, this one her basic map of the United States, all the coordinates cleanly mapped out, and spreads it over the first.

At first, nothing happens, then sand sifts up from below the map, shaking and rattling into place, dotting the states over and over with spots of something hidden.

“See,” Chloe says. “Too much.”

He watches it, like he can catch something she can’t, before nodding at her, begrudging. “How the hell have I not heard of you before?”

It’s worded like a compliment.

“I mean, the college tried very hard so that the world forgot I existed,” she responds, pushing one of the grains of sand and watching as it rattles back into place. “They didn’t like the idea of people knowing that they let someone like me escape.”

“And now you’re friends with abominations and Necromancers alike,” he murmurs, before resting his hand onthe map, pulling up a twist of demon magic like its strands of hair. “Then which scroll?”

“Is that the scan?” Chloe asks, peering at the fistful of magic. “Just like that?”

“I do not need to tie it to things,” he says, like he’s protesting something, like he’s proving himself. “I’m not a child.”

“Speaking of which, is that child yours?” Chloe asks, then stares at him, unblinking, as he visibly falters, both the human face and the second face beneath blanching. “I know a few Half Demons.”

Few is a misnomer, but she has no problem with the little lie.

“There are only seventeen Half Demons in the world,” he protests, like that’s the important part here. “How the hell did you happen to meet a ‘few’ of them.”

“I thought there were only five,” she replies cheekily.

He gives her a flat look, and it’s the same flat look most people give her when they think she’s mocking them. Which to be fair, she kinda is at the moment.

“No, the child is not my biological offspring,” he says stiffly, the grooves in his forehead deepening. “But she has my entire protection, and I will kill anyone who threatens her.”

“Noted,” Chloe responds, then turns back to the scroll. “So this entire place, all this protection, for her?”

He sighs, an entirely human sound. “She’s twelve,” he complains. “She’s twelve and has almost the entirety of the college wanting to put her under their control and she has no idea, just because her father was powerful.”

Chloe’s heard that story before.

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