Page 77 of The Girl Who Only Died Once

It’s definitely something to consider, and Chloe opens her mouth to answer, before he tenses, his eyes blazing red.

She freezes.

He stays there, then relaxes again. “It’s just the front desk clerk.”

“What?” Chloe asks, before the moment is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Hello?” the clerk says, voice muffled by the door.

Chloe unfolds her legs, standing as quietly as she can. “Yes?”

Killian raises an eyebrow at her.

“Doing a status check, can I come in?” he asks, and the door must be very very thin if she’s able to hear so clearly. “The electricity is weird.”

Killian nods at her, but he’s still not getting up.

“One sec,” Chloe says, then crosses to the door. “Everything’s working in here.”

It’s the same store clerk with the fake wolf ears on top of the hat, and he blinks at her, as if he wasn’t expecting her to be the one to come to the door.

“I have to…” He gestures with the instrument in his hand, some sort of electric meter, still not meeting her eyes. “Look, this building’s old, I have to check for shorts in the walls whenever we lose power.”

From the bed, Killian coughs out a laugh.

“Sure,” Chloe says, stepping out of his way. Besides the gun in her bag, there’s nothing weird in there, and the clerk gives another forlorn glance at her cleavage before moving into the bathroom, checking the outlets.

“I didn’t short out this room,” Killian says, almost languid. “Can’t say the same for the kitchen.”

“Right,” Chloe whispers, and it’s awkward. Everything is awkward, the demon lounging on the bed is awkward, she’s awkward, and exhaustion blurs her vision.

“Did you say anything?” the clerk calls from the bathroom, and this time, Killian grins at her, almost cheekily.

“Just talking to myself,” Chloe answers, sitting on the edge of the bed, out of a lack of anything else to do, and standing in the middle of the room is way worse.

And after the battle, after the deaths on Killian’s hands, everything is shaded with enough unreal that her skin prickles with the awareness of it. The clerk in the bathroom flicks the lights on and off, the electric meter beeping merrily, and Chloe's hands begin to shake.

On the bed next to her, Killian sits up, alarmed. “What is it?” he demands.

Chloe turns to him, uncomprehending, and he grabs her by her wrist.

“Something happened, you’re affected, did something hit you?” he asks, peering down at her hand, like he can discern things from that alone. His hand is gentle against hers, like she’s something delicate, and nobody’s treated her like that in years.

She shakes her head, quick, with an obvious jerk of her head to the bathroom, but her fingertips still tremble.

She doesn’t want to have to explain coming down from a shock to a demon. Ambra’s different, Ambra’s in a human body and experiences them herself.

Killian’s brows draw up, both the human face in front of her and the shifting one underneath.

“I’m okay,” she breathes out, as quiet as she can make it, as the electric meter beeps again. “I’m fine.”

He squints at her but releases her hand as the clerk putters into the main room, pressing the meter against the wall and watching the display. Chloe swallows, leaning back just a bit, but Killian still holds her gaze.

“A lot of rooms having issues?” Chloe asks, voice fake and bright, and Killian wrinkles his nose at her, like he can see through her attempts at being put together.

“Not a lot, but enough,” the clerk mutters. “The electrician is coming from Minneapolis tomorrow, but it’s too late for him to come out today; we’re too far apparently.”

“Do you pretend to be cheerful so people don’t notice something’s wrong?” Killian asks, voice low. “Or do you pretend it because you think that’s what people want?”

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