Page 27 of Demons of Eden

It’s such an optimistic view of my skills, choosing those lofty goals. The running part alone seems hellish enough. While I’d considered the hilarity of myself trying to fight a demon whileheavily pregnant, I hadn’t really thought about running away at that same size. It's just as tragically hilarious of a mental image to picture.

“So, what were those questions you wanted to ask?” I inquire as I clean my fingers with a napkin, ready to get into it now we’re all done with eating.

Torrin and Daion share an odd look, something about it making Rio smirk. The smug expression sets off an uncomfortable prickling feeling he’s good at conjuring in me, though it’s the first time he’s caused it today. Over the last hour or so, Rio has been oddly…tolerable, for the most part, anyway. He did glare at the noises I made while I ate, but it only marginally distracted me from enjoying my meal. I also took a special kind of joy in shovelling all of his favourite tacos down my throat like a whale swallowing krill. I’m pretty sure that irritated him, but at least he’s keeping his opinions, threats, and insults to himself for once.

“Why don’t we head upstairs to talk?” Daion suggests as he stands, apparently not waiting around for a response. I watch him start to walk off before turning to Torrin with a slightly confused expression. He grins as he also stands, but unlike his brother, he sticks around to offer me a hand up.

“Well, okay then,” I mumble while taking the offered hand and allowing him to pull me up and onto my feet. I follow him as he leads me around to the back area and to the staircase I’ve yet to go up in any of my visits here. Though, I did already get confirmation the three of them all live in the building, so I have an idea of what to expect up there. I hardly notice Rio trailing after us at a short distance.

There may not be a lot of steps, but they’re steep, and I complain about nearly every single one of them on the way to the top. It doesn’t help that they’re weirdly uneven in several places, like they’re designed purposefully in order to make someone tripup if they’re unfamiliar or unwarned. Luckily, Torrin remembers to point all of the odd steps out as we pass them.

“Next time, you’re carrying me up these,” I jokingly inform him with a huff once we reach the landing. Clearly Daion’s torture session hasn’t helped very much with my stamina. That, or I really did just eat way too much food.

Maybe they should add stairs to the list of things to avoid for an hour after eating?

“And here I was, under the impression you weren’t a damsel in distress,” he replies, leading me through the upstairs hallway.

“Your mistake,” I retort, dramatically sighing before adding, “I now live my life in a constant state of distress, so I’ll take the ridiculous princess carry, please.”

He laughs as we pass a few closed doors, and I catch myself wondering which room belongs to each of them before shaking the dumb thought off. I hardly need to know whose bed is where. What if I start thinking about them sleeping in there, or worse, think about themnot sleepingin there?

“What’s your favourite movie?” Daion asks as we enter the room at the very end of the hall. He’s standing in the middle of the space, flicking through the streaming options on the TV.

I squint at him, glance over at Torrin, and then go back to staring at Daion.

“Why?” That doesn’t sound very important, or like the kind of information they need to help me find Ash.

“Oh, just for background noise while we talk.” Apparently deciding it doesn’t matter, Daion seems to put something random on. I don’t really pay attention to what exactly, as he then gestures over to the large and very comfortable-looking couch going along the entire back wall of the room. It honestly looks like the perfect place to curl up for a nap.

Torrin takes a seat on the big couch as Rio enters and makes a beeline for the smaller one that goes along the wall to the rightof it, forming an L shape between them both. I sit beside Torrin, choosing the side that puts him between me and Rio, even if he is on another sofa. It’s hard not to gravitate into the warmth radiating off him, and I rub my arms with my hands, trying to convince myself that if I just warm up a little, I’ll be less tempted.

“Are you cold? It can get chilly up here,” Daion asks.

“I’m fine,” I tell him, but my answer seems to be ignored, as he kneels down and grabs a blanket out from underneath the coffee table.

What the hell is happening right now?

“When you met Ash, did he say anything to you that might hint at his normal whereabouts? Like a job or any interests he mentioned that could tie into a location or group or something?” Torrin asks, distracting me temporarily. It’s long enough for Daion to unfold the blanket he’d retrieved and drape it over me. Despite my denial of being cold, the softness of the blanket silences any complaints I may have over the weird behaviour. I relax, sinking into the sofa and trying not to yawn.

Yeah, I was definitely right that this would be a really good place to nap…

“Umm, I don’t think so…” I answer, trailing off as I go over the night in my head and try to pluck out anything useful. Looking back, though we talked for hours, Ash had managed to keep things just vague enough not to connect him to anywhere or anyone specific. There were no names mentioned at all. I hadn’t noticed it at the time, but now it feels painfully obvious, and I’m painfully fucking embarrassed. “I guess we didn’t get very detailed about our personal lives.” I tense, waiting for Rio to spit something judgy at me again, but to my shock, he remains silent.

“Hmm, okay. Well, let me know if anything comes to mind,” Torrin replies while Daion finally sits, taking the spot on my other side.

“We already went over what he was wearing when you met, right?” Daion checks, and I nod, hoping my cheeks don’t flush. I doubt that information was much help, considering they hadn’t found him on any CCTV footage, and he can’t exactly wear that particular shirt again, given how I stole it. The stupid thing hadn’t even been good for a locator spell, so at least he’s likely not missing it.

“Oh!” Torrin exclaims while gesturing at the TV, his face lighting up. “I love this movie. Let's relax for a bit. We can always finish talking about this later, right?” Though it’s phrased like an offer, he already seems pretty locked in to watching it, and I’m too warm and comfortable now to complain.

“Okay,” I agree with a slight frown, turning back to the screen to see what exactly he’s so interested in watching. I roll my eyes when I see what’s playing. It’s some old action movie I’ve seen a bunch of times before thanks to my brother having a mild obsession with them. I personally find action flicks to be wildly boring. Give me an epic fantasy tale or a cheesy romcom; I’d pick one of those over action any day of the week.

Despite my lack of interest, I try watching it with them, not about to ruin the mood over their choice in entertainment, but I slowly feel myself drifting. After the massive meal I had, I feel ready to pass the heck out. My eyes are heavy, and my limbs feel like melted butter. I shift around, trying to get more comfortable, my neck twinging from the weird angle I try resting it on my own shoulder at. Daion notices, nudging me and offering his shoulder with a pat.

If I were even ten percent more awake, I’d refuse. Instead, I find myself tipping sideways into him and dozing right off.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“You don’t have to come in there with us. You know that, right?” Torrin says, his warm and now familiar voice reaching my ears before I can see him. It makes me freeze for a second as I glance about to find its source, quickly realising he must be around the corner I was approaching, and also speaking to someone else.

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