Page 12 of Higher Demon

“Twelve,” I supply, my gaze on the confused faces in front of us. They would all have been toddlers when this happened, and there’s no reason they would have been told about it.

“Suffice it to say,” Marc informs them, “Twelve-year-old Ian would probably have asked questions of a guest speaker if the opportunity was presented to him.”

I keep my mouth shut, because that’s definitely not true. Matt and I were notorious for not participating in class unless we absolutely had to.

There’s another stunted little silence, and then Jed asks, “What’s been hardest to get used to here on Earth?”

I look down to hide my wince. At least he’s trying?

To give Marc his due, he can tell the difference between actual stupidity and awkwardness, and he answers the question seriously… kind of. “Humans.”

Jed flushes. “Uh, yeah. I guess we’re… not there, huh.”

Anna speaks up, drawing attention away from her flustered classmate. “Do demons have similar societies to us? Family groups? Do you live in towns, or is it more… rural?”

Okay, that’s not bad.

Marc inclines his head and begins to explain the intricacies of demon social structure. He dumbs it down a lot, of course—he and I have talked about this before, and it’s not an easy question to answer, because each type of demon is essentially a different species, and they all have different societies. That’s before even considering the spirits and other, lesser species that also live in Crmærdinesgh.

The door opens, and Jolynn slinks back in and returns to her chair. She still looks upset, but no longer on the verge of tears. Carefully, with the lightest of touches, I mentally reach out and try to sense what Marc could have meant.

Nothing. She seems like a regular hunter to me. A little on the underpowered side, but that doesn’t mean she still couldn’t be a contributing member of the Collective.

Whatever it is, I’m going to have to get the details from Marc.

Who just asked one of my students if they were born an imbecile or had to nurture the ability.

I hide a smile. Hearing him say that is almost as good as being able to say it myself.

Chapter6

Marc

As the lastof Ian’s students turns in the doorway to glare defiantly at me and flip his finger up—“the bird,” I believe it’s called—I sigh contentedly. That was as much fun as anything on this forsaken planet can be.

“I thoroughly enjoyed that,” I say to Ian. “I’m glad I didn’t ignore you.”

“You did,” he reminds me. “Two calls and a bunch of texts. I had to invade your house to get you to even hear me out.”

I flip a hand negligently. “Details. I agreed to come, didn’t I? Even though my better judgment thought it was a terrible idea.”

He smirks. “The lure of being able to call people names was too strong, right? And hey, you did! I fully expect to start getting complaints within the hour.”

I smile. “Another reason this was a good idea. All the complaints will come to you. We should do this more often.”

“Yeah, no. Let’s see how bad the fallout is before we start planning a regular session.”

That sounds acceptable. “Didn’t you promise me a drink before?” I change the subject. Partly because the previous one has reached its end, but mostly because I have several things to discuss with him, and this classroom, empty though it might be, isn’t the place for them.

He nods. “Sure. I need to talk to you anyway. Bar, or beer at mine?”

I glance at my watch. It’s close to five. This will take some time, so?—

Ian’s phone rings. “Sorry, let me send that to voicemail.” He pulls it from his pocket. That’s one thing I’ve noticed about him—for a mostly savage human, his manners aren’t too terrible. Sometimes.

“Go ahead and take it,” I offer magnanimously. Since I plan to ask a favor later, it’s a good idea to be nice to him.

“Are you sure? It’s only Matt.”

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