Page 60 of The Demigod

“For the record, I don’t like it.”

“For the record, I didn’t like chaining you up each night to get tortured,” I told him.

“I know you didn’t,” he said, sitting down next to me and rubbing a hand down my leg. “Full?” he asked when I put a half-eaten taco back down in the container.

“Yeah,” I said, leaning into him as another wave of exhaustion hit me.

“Why don’t you get some sleep? I will handle the poppies.”

“Will you lay with me?” I asked. “When you’re done,” I clarified.

To that, his face softened. And, oddly, his eyes turned a bit redder—like they did when we were intimate.

“Of course,” he said. “How about I lay with you until you fall asleep?”

Even better.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“Hold up. One second,” he said, jumping up off the bed to cross the room where the pile of bags from the store was located. “Got you a new blanket since your other one needs to be washed.”

The new one was just as soft and warm as the other but featured a darling little moon pattern which, I hoped, he picked out because of my lineage, not because it was the only option available.

“They didn’t have shadow girl blankets,” he told me as he flicked it over my body. “So moons and stars had to do.”

My heart squeezed at that as he climbed on the bed and slipped under the blanket with me.

His arm slid under my head, curling me into him, giving me his warmth.

One arm held me tight while the other started sliding up and down my back, through the damp strands of my hair.

My heart did that swelling thing again. Only this time, I recognized it for just what it was.

Not just warmth or affection.

No.

This was something deeper.

Something a lot like love.

Maybe it was foolish—to fall for anyone in such a life-or-death situation. It was certainly insane to fall for ademon. I mean, could an evil creature even feel love? Could he ever return the feelings that were building in me?

“Daemon?”

“Hmm?” he asked, the sound vibrating against my cheek.

“Can you tell me about… you? Your kind? Your friends? Anything.”

“Need me to bore you to sleep, huh, sweetness?” he asked, fingers gently rubbing my scalp. A shiver moved through me at the sensation. “Don’t go getting all shivery on me. You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he said, tone light.

“It just feels good,” I said, already feeling my eyelids getting heavy. “Talk to me.”

Then he started. At first, he just told me everyone’s names and some basic personality traits—Ace with his grandpa sweaters, Minos with his depressing playlists, Aram with his crush on Red, who had apparently run off a while ago and hadn’t been heard from since.

But it wasn’t long before he started to get more personal, explaining how much he hated his homeland, how ecstatic he was when Lenore opened a Hellmouth and he and his—less enthusiastic—brother got sucked through.

I was almost asleep when he finally started to talk about the things I wanted to know the most.

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