Page 40 of Higher Demon

I can’t believe it’s been less than twenty-four hours since all this shit came tumbling down on me. Right now, I really want to run away to Illinois. Except there are no secrets at Mannix Estate, and Con would know everything before I could come up with a plan to keep him from coming after Marc and ultimately dying.

Maybe it would be worth it if I could get some time in one of the peaceful little cottages, with nothing to worry about except Carter asking intrusive questions about my sex life. I mean… I’ve got Matt and Gabe. Do I really need Connor?

Oh my god. I’m losing it.

I turn around and leave the house, barely remembering to snag my keys and close the door behind me. I’m in yesterday’s clothes, but I’ve showered, and it’s not like I ran a marathon or anything. Plus, my wardrobe doesn’t have that much variety, so nobody’s going to notice. They’ve all seen these clothes a million times before.

The walk to the administration building isn’t a long one, but it gives me time to wrestle my thoughts into order. I’m going to have to deal with the fallout of kissing Marc—again, and without “it pissed my treacherous parents off” as a reason to fall back on—but that’s not my highest priority. It’s also the second-last thing I want to do (with the last being think about why I kissed him and how the fuck I can be attracted to him), so I’m good with ignoring it for now. Instead, I’ll focus on this mess with the Highett family. If they really are spies—oh, sorry, “gossip facilitators”—for a higher demon, then something needs to be done.

Who the fuck knows what, though. If the word gets out, this has the power to destroy the Collective. There was already enough unrest when Cato was killed and his Collective traitors died with him. People fell apart. Then we stomped on them when we produced the evidence of hundreds of years of corruption and proceeded to upend the organization and rebuild it. To discover now that demons are capable of making fake hunters, people who’ve lived among us for generations without ever being suspected… I don’t think the Collective would survive it.

And the Collective has to survive. Hunters can only do so much on their own. We didn’t start truly holding our own against the demons until Uncle Norval and his friends banded together and began recruiting others and sharing information. Sure, things are different now, with fewer gateways open, but there are always going to be idiots who think summoning a demon is a good idea. Without the Collective, Marc’s job as ambassador is defunct. Without an ambassador, relations between our worlds will collapse. We won’t have the help of a higher demon if another higher demon goes rogue.

So, no. The Collective can’t collapse. That means I need to find out the extent of this little problem with the Highetts andquietlyfix it. If I’m lucky, they’ll be the only family entrenched in the Collective. I shudder to think of how bad it would be if higher demons had agents in compounds around the world.

Too bad the only way I can find out for sure is with Marc’s help.

Chapter16

Marc

Long after Ianand Matt leave, I’m still trying to understand exactly what happened this morning. Human logic is a complete mystery to me. The first time he kissed me, before the Battle for the Barrier, was to prove a point to his parents that he considered even a higher demon to be better than them. I respected that—using whatever’s at hand to hurt your enemy is a valid tactic.

But today…

I don’t know what today was. As if making me watch that frankly baffling movie wasn’t bad enough, he had to kiss me as though he was starving for me.

Humans don’t kiss each other in appreciation for coffee. If they did, they’d all be clamoring to become baristas. One thing I’ve noticed about humans after all this time is that a lot of them have voracious sexual appetites.

Is that what this is about? Could it be a purely sexual thing? Ian’s body and my body wanting stimulation and release?

I wander into the front parlor and sit in my armchair to think about it. The image of Ian sitting here, making himself comfortable in my favorite space on Earth, rises in my mind’s eye. His appalling clothes and grubby shoes, his always-untidy hair, the way he gets a little crease between his eyebrows when he’s thinking, the mischievous gleam in his eyes when he thinks he’s one-upping me… the way his beautiful mouth curves when he smiles.

How that mouth feels under mine.

The little gasp he gave when I kissed him back.

Because I did. I kissed a human.

I’ve never done that, not really. I’ve experimented with sex in human form, but it was with another higher demon. I’ve never wanted to be with an actual human.

Until today, when I kissed a human.

I kissedIan.

Is this a result of being on Earth for so long? Are the instincts of the human body taking over my demon brain?

If that’s it, the solution is fairly simple. I can change into my true form for a few days, until my own natural instincts are firmly reasserted, and then recreate the human body. It would wipe any lingering limbic needs and allow me to start from scratch.

The problem with this plan is that I’m supposed to be making friends and building a network, and disappearing from sight—or appearing as my demon self—for a few days is not conducive to that. I need to be visible and human for this plan to work.

I suppose the other option would be to slake my body’s desires? Not with a human, of course. The very thought makes me shudder. But I could ask a friend to…

All desire flees.

“Where is everyone?” Norval pops into the room with impeccable timing. I push aside my startling discovery and glare at the ghost.

“They left. Before they overstayed their welcome.”

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