Page 42 of Demon Hunter

“Are you sure? Because?—”

“I have another idea, then,” Marc interrupts. His gaze is on Dylan, and if I didn’t know it was impossible, I’d think there was compassion there. “Perhaps you would allow me to bring in a bed for Ian and me to sleep in? I’d remove it when we’re not using it.”

That’s one fucked-up idea. I turn wide eyes on Ian, but he doesn’t seem to have any issues sleeping in a disappearing demon bed.

“Where would we put it?” he demands instead. “Dylan’s spare room is his office.”

Marc looks around. “Here. We’ll move the coffee table—preferably to a dumpster—and this chair, and there should be enough room. It only needs to be here when we’re using it.”

He’s being weirdly accommodating, and I’m not sure I like it. Honestly, I thought for sure he’d have a diva fit at the thought of sleeping on the sofa bed—this was before I heard Dylan’s plan for us to sleep there—and insist on sleeping at home. Or a posh hotel.

Instead, he’s being… helpful.

Something’s not right here.

Chapter 18

Dylan

I don’t knowif Marc’s reading my mind or if I’m just being super obvious—probably that option—but he’s being helpful, and I’m so grateful.

“Perfect!” I hide my wince. That sounded too chipper. “I mean… that solves that. Since I’m redecorating anyway, we can get rid of the coffee table.” I glance around. “We might keep the chair and sofa until we replace them, though. We’ll need somewhere to sit. But the chair can go in my office when you need the bed.” I smile, pleased to have it all resolved. For two nights, at least, there’s going to be a higher demon in the apartment, and Matt will be safe.

Whoa. That’s not something younger me would ever have dreamed of thinking.

Matt and Ian still look like they think we’re insane, so a distraction is needed. “Well, we don’t need to sit around in here all day,” I say. “I think we promised Marc a tour of the most pretentious places in San Francisco.”

“We’re actually going to do that?” Ian sounds super unenthusiastic. “I thought it was just a lure to get him here.”

“So did I,” Marc comments, surprising a laugh/snort out of Matt. “But since you offered?—”

“He takes it back,” Matt and Ian chorus in unison.

Marc gives them a disgusted look. “Could you not evenattemptto separate your brains?”

“Dude, now that I know it upsets you so much, I’m gonna do it more often,” my boyfriend announces cheerfully. “Hey! I guess that means you’ve progressed to the level of friendship where we do things just to piss each other off. Go, you.”

With dawning horror, Marc asks, “We weren’t already there? Until now, you’ve been trying to benice?”

“Just as much as you were,” Ian says pointedly. “Youweretrying to be nice, right, babe?”

“Please stop calling me that.” The demon’s expression is pained, and since he helped me out before, I decide to rescue him.

“We’re going out,” I say firmly. “I’m awake before noon, I took tonight off from work”—not that it’ll stop me from logging on after they’re all asleep—“and we promised Marc a visit he’d enjoy. So we’re going to have a long, expensive lunch at the Ritz-Carlton, hit some of those high-end furniture showrooms where you need appointments, and go to the ballet tonight. Though Marc will need to use his mojo for all that, because we don’t have reservations, appointments, or tickets.” I glance at Marc. “If that sounds interesting to you.”

He nods slowly, his gaze laser focused on me as Ian and Matt both groan. “It does indeed. Before we go, however, I believe an update may be in order. Have you learned anything new?”

Dammit. I sigh. “Not really.” Putting my hand on Matt’s thigh, I ask, “You’ve been keeping Ian up to date, right?” I know he has. They talk every day, and if for some reason that doesn’t happen, they text. It’s sweet. I’m an only child, but if I’d had a twin, I’d want to be that close to them.

Because let’s face it, Matt and Ian might not be blood related, they may not share physical features, and their birthdays mightbe four months apart, but they pretty much share a brain. I know they’ve had issues in the past with partners thinking they spent too much time together, and it was something Matt brought up pretty early on after we decided we were serious about each other, but there’s no way I’d ever expect him to give up Ian. It probably helps that Ian and I are friends too.

Weirdly, as much as we complain about Marc, the actual demon, Matt says he’s never suggested that Ian should talk to him less either—though I think he might have said something about never seeing Connor again.

“Yeah, he’s told me everything. Unless something new came up between yesterday and now.”

I shake my head, and Matt says, “Nuh-uh. Not unless you count the weird-ass dream I had last night.”

“How weird?” Ian asks curiously, and Matt recounts the details. “Bro, that’s, like… did you eat spicy food right before going to bed?”

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