Page 48 of Asher

“Sometimes,” Sam admits. “It’s not like it’s promising you and Garrett are going to be in love forever. But I’m getting a really good feeling about your marriage. So… for now, at least, don’t worry so much.”

Hope makes my chest tight, but I nod. “Enjoy my time with Garrett. I can do that.”

* * *

I go straight backto Hortplatz. I told Garrett I’d be a little late, and he assumed it was for work, which makes me feel guilty. So the first thing I do when I walk out of the teleport room is announce, “I went to visit Gideon.”

“What?” someone—I think it’s Micah—calls from the kitchen. “Is that you, Ash?”

I glance around the empty hallway. Maybe the guilt made me just a little anxious. I should probably tone that down. “Yeah,” I reply, heading in that direction.

He’s alone, cutting himself a piece of cake, and I ask, “Where’s Garrett? And where’d that cake come from?”

“One of Garrett’s students. They must really like him at the school, because one of the kids showed up here this afternoon with her mother to deliver this extremely excellent cake.” He leaves the cake and knife out as he sits at the counter with his plate. I take that as a sign to help myself to a piece.

“And where’s Garrett?” I cut a smallish slice. Better to taste it first before committing to a big piece.

“He’s back at the school. Something about Carol? Do we even know anyone called Carol?”

My memory kicks in. “Oh—no, it’s not a person. Part of that whole human Christmas thing is that they sing songs and call them carol.” I think. And he did tell me they were going to do a carol thing at the school tonight. I take a bite of cake and make a sound of pleasure. It really is excellent.

“Told you,” Micah says. “This is my third piece. If you being married to Garrett means we get quality baked goods like this, you’re just going to have to stay married to him.”

I chew and swallow. “Working on that.” Not that we’d live here with him and Zac forever, but I can worry about that later.

Micah’s choking on cake crumbs, and I put down my fork for long enough to thump him on the back. It’s very satisfying, so I do it again.

“Yeah, okay, enough!” he gasps. I pick up my fork and return my attention to the cake as he sucks in a breath. “Did you say you’re going to stay married to Garrett?”

I scrape up the last of the frosting and let it melt into my mouth. “I want to. Guess we need to see how he feels about it. I’m giving him time.”

Micah pulls a face. “Time to realize he wants to stay married to you? That seems kind of overconfident.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“What if we just don’t let him leave? In winter it’s easy enough, and when the road clears, we could do something to his car.”

I slowly put my plate down and turn to look at him. “Are you suggesting that we illegally imprison him here? I don’t think that’s the type of marriage I’m really looking for, thanks all the same.”

“Not imprison,” Micah protests. “We wouldn’t lock him up or anything. We just wouldn’t let him leave.”

I sigh and get up to put my plate and fork in the dishwasher. I want more cake, but not if it means having to listen to Micah spout this crap. “You should stop and think about what you just said. Think really hard. And know that if Enforcement ever came looking for you, I’d turn you in without hesitation.”

Leaving him sputtering in the kitchen, I teleport to the school. The carol thing should still be going, and I want to show Garrett that I support him in every way.

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

Garrett

One Saturday afternoon in January,Zoe and I are adding details and suggestions to the growing list of things to be considered if non-demons are going to live in Hortplatz when we hear raised voices. She stops talking midsentence and glances at the door. “Do you need to check on that?”

We’re having this meeting in my office at the “teachers’ house,” so I know it’s not Asher and Zac arguing over the remote control. “I’m not sure.” I listen, rather than just hearing, and realize that the voices aren’t just Annie and Sid. “I think I do.”

I’m on my feet and halfway to the door when it bursts open. Asher’s standing there, face pale and set, even for a demon. “Is Isaac here?”

I blink. “Isaac? No. Why…” It dawns on me that if he’s asking, with his expression like that, it means Isaac isn’t where he’s supposed to be. “He’s missing?”

Asher’s curt nod sends my stomach plummeting to my feet. “We’re putting together a search party,” he says. “First here in the village, then…” He doesn’t finish the sentence. If Isaac’s not in the village, he’s wandered further into the mountains… on a cold, lightly snowing evening in winter. If we don’t find him, exposure will kill him quickly.

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