Page 71 of The Girl Who Only Died Once

He settles back again, but they’re still touching at the knee, and he’s making no movement to shift away from it. “And yet you bespelled your phone so much already.”

“I got taught that,” Chloe replies. “By someone who might as well be an electronics master.”

He hmms in the back of his throat. “I’ve not seen many alchemists who were able to do that at all.”

She’s not sure what he’s getting at, so she returns her attention to the menu. It’s a standard diner fare, with little creativity in it, the menu old and the plastic edges fraying.

“For being so close to a college base, they sure don’t put any economic infrastructure here,” Chloe mutters.

Around many other bases, the college spends enough money that the area at least appears affluent, with quality restaurants and stores for luxury goods, because they are nothing if not snobs.

Part of the reason why Chloe never meshed with a lot of them. People who grew up around wealth can generally tell when one didn’t.

“There’s a town twenty minutes away from it that made itself through its mysterious ability to grow wine grapes despite the overall climate,” Killian responds, wrinkling his nose. “It’s mediocre wine at best.”

“That’ll do it,” Chloe replies, scanning the menu, then flashing her best smile at the waitress dropping off her water. “Just the regular burger with fries, no cheese.”

Thankfully, the waitress takes the order without any additional chatter, and Chloe falls back into silence, idly poking at her phone, and the demon next to her lets his attention flit meticulously across the room, checking every window and visible crack in the wall.

She knows that Ambra does something similar when she’s in a new place, but has never been so viciously aware of it. With every surge of power used, all of it goes directly towards the room, testing it.

“What would happen if you found a weak point with that?” Chloe mutters, and he startles. “Would you push open the wall? Slip up and get something exploded?”

“I have more control than that,” he replies, affronted, which was half the goal. “I notice it and then move along.”

This time Chloe just shrugs, poking in her phone over to her text messages.

CHLOE (5:02 PM): Where did Ambra take you?

No response, though it ticks over to read, and Killian’s obviously reading over her shoulder.

“One of the abominations,” Chloe whispers, almost sarcastically. “She got spooked when their home was attacked.”

Killian’s eyes narrow.

“What?” Chloe asks, almost exasperated.

“I’m trying to figure out which one you’re referring to,” he says, leaning against the table, propping his head up on his hand. “I know only one is in a male body, so it’s unlikely Ambra is that one.”

“You all really don’t exchange names,” Chloe mumbles. “I’m not going to betray a friend.”

“Intellectual exercise,” he drawls. “I’m not interested in sabotaging your social group, especially if you have access to a Necromancer who has killed people like me.”

“I like that demons are scared of them,” Chloe replies, and he surprises her by giving her a grin. “Less likely they’ll die by them.”

“Some of my kind forget how powerful they can be, especially as adults,” he says, and there’s some strange relaxation in him, in this tiny little diner with cracks in the walls, that she hasn’t quite seen elsewhere. “They focus too much on the temptation of the power, not enough on the risks involved.” Another half-smile. “Is Ambra the one in love with her handler?”

And that’s a complicated question, near as Chloe can tell, because if you squint at it, the answer could probably be considered yes, but only in a very reductive sense, and he’s definitely not a handler anymore.

“Or is she the one tied by the leashes?” he continues, and again, could also be considered yes, especially if Killian had known of her before. “I don’t think she’s the one imprisoned in Bolivia, I don’t believe that one has been released yet.”

Which somewhat suggests that he’s not including Terese the human in his numbers, which means at least two more that her group doesn’t know about.

Which has startling connotations, and with that information she knows, just knows, that some of her group will want to track them down. Give them the freedom needed.

“She keeps her secrets,” Chloe says finally, and gets another little hint of relaxation. Like her unwillingness to tell him is good, despite his curiosity. “But you know of more than I do, obviously.”

He smiles at her, all teeth. “Good.”

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