Page 34 of Higher Demon

“Agreed.” I go and take the popcorn from Marc, then gesture for him to sit. I’ve never seen someone attend a movie night in a suit, but somehow, he makes it look… natural?

So weird.

I snuggle into one corner of the super-comfy couch and instruct, “Legally Blonde.Find it.”

Muttering, Marc points the remote at the TV, bringing it to life, and arrows through the various streaming services. He’s just found the movie and is dubiously studying the image of Reese Witherspoon in head-to-toe pink when Matt’s phone goes off.

I frown and check my watch. “Who’s calling you now?” It’s notthatlate, only ten, but still…

“Dyl,” he says, hesitating with his thumb hovering over the screen. “You know, he’d be a good person to bring in on this friendship thing. I’m going to take this.”

I blink, but before I can stop him, he’s got the phone to his ear and is greeting Dylan. He’s not wrong, exactly—Dylan would be one of the few people I can think of who’d go with this whole insane plan. But I feel like we need to prepare more first. Or at all.

“Who’s Dylan?” Marc asks me softly as Matt launches into an explanation of what we’re doing.

“A friend. He helped us with everything during the whole Cato thing.” They didn’t meet back then, though—Dylan was at the compound, and we were in Illinois.

Marc’s eyes narrow as though he’s thinking. “The one who designed the app?”

Should I be concerned that he remembers that little detail after six years? “That’s him.”

He nods. “An intelligent human. They’re so rare.”

This plan may be harder than we expected.

Chapter14

Marc

I’m not quitesure when the night got away from me, but it’s safe to say it’s completely gone now. I should just consider myself fortunate that I haven’t suddenly acquired half a dozen ghostly roommates… yet. Norval has a sly expression on his face that tells me not to let my guard down there. He filches the remote control from my hand and begins to flick through channels.

The things I must do to ensure interdimensional peace. If somebody had told me a thousand years ago that I’d be changing my style of dress, furnishing bedrooms for houseguests, and participating in a movie night, all because of humans, I would have laughed myself into disincorporation. And then made them bleed from every orifice just for putting that thought out into the universe.

“I’m going to put you on speaker,” Matt’s saying. How lovely. A group call. Because I so enjoy speaking on the phone to people I don’t know, much less like.

“Hello?” a new voice says through the handset. “Ian, you there? What the fuck is this moron saying about being friends with Asshole McFuckface?”

Grudging respect and interest stir in me as Ian sighs and covers his eyes and Matt shoots me a panicky glance. “Hello, little human.” I put a tiny bit of growl into my voice.

There’s a brief, surprised pause, and then the voice says, “He’s there? You coulda mentioned that, Matty. Hi, Demon McFuckface.”

“Jesus Christ, Dyl, stop,” Matt hisses.

“Dylan, is it?” I ask. “Tell me, why are you friends with Matt and Ian?”

“It started out as proximity,” he says easily. I hear a clacking sound in the background. “There weren’t many people our age in the compound that I could tolerate. They were the best of the lot—which is really sad.”

I look at the pair of them. “I understand.”

“Yeah, and then when my family moved to the East Coast compound, I stayed in touch because Matty’s a stage-five clinger.”

“I amnot!”

“You are,” Ian and Dylan say in unison.

I level Matt with a glare. “Donot‘cling’ to me.”

He shudders. “No chance of that, even if I was a clinger. Which I’m not.”

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