Page 36 of Demon Found

“Dratted wasps! I’ll kill you!”

“Leave them be. No killing hada!” Naeve talks to Zephyr like he’s a truculent toddler, not a grown-ass adult too high to realize he’s nearly decapitating sentient beings. He catches one by a gossamer wing, and she squeals in pain.

Without thinking, I throw my weight at him, sending him sideways into Farrell and taking us all down in a pile on the rug. I punch him in the side, prying at his fingers until his grip loosens. The little hada squirms free, shrieking in Zephyr’s face before kissing the tip of my nose and flapping disjointedly out of the room.

Naeve skirts the tangle of limbs and forces an entire syringe of pungent yellow liquid into Zephyr’s mouth. Farrell takes over seamlessly, clamping his hand over Zephyr’s lips and pinning him down until he swallows.

They’re slick. They’ve done this before. How fucking sad.

I stare between Zephyr’s bloodshot eyes and Naeve’s teary ones.

“So, that’s it. He’s all better? Can’t you just give him that shit all the time?”

“It’s toxic if used more than once a week. He’s high way more than that.”

“Heis right here,” Zephyr grumbles.

“Excuse us for not realizing the man who nearly killed a fairy two minutes ago is now compos mentis,” I snap.

His head shoots up, long locks flying away from his face as he glances wildly between the other two.

“I’m not fucking lying,” I say. “You do that again and I’ll do worse than tackle you to the ground. I already regret not breaking your damn ribs.”

Zephyr’s ashen face peers up at me as he rubs his chest. “I thought I was sore. But you’re wrong. I wouldn’t ever . . .”

“You thought she was a wasp.”

He looks sheepish. “Shit. That wasn’t real?”

Farrell shakes his head. “No, buddy. No hornets. The hada were bringing us cake.”

“Fuck.”

“Yes,” Naeve says, “well, quite.”

How the hell does she manage to sound prim when shock is still plastered all over her face?

Farrell turns to her. “Presuming we’re not here to kill hada, why are we here, Naeve?”

“How did I even get here?” Zephyr mutters, throwing himself onto my bed, clutching his side.

Freaking drama queen.

“Lorelei needs to get to know us. She needs to understand why some things are . . . the way they are.”

Naeve gives Zephyr a pointed look and he drags himself upright, hugging my pillow.

“Guys, she needs to understand there’s more between you two than just the allegiance.”

“Oh shit,” I say, “you’re gay, and you’retogether. Why the fuck would that matter?”

Zephyr cocks his head to the side, looking Farrell up and down. “He wishes. He’s notthatlucky.”

Farrell shakes his head, ignoring Zephyr. “You probably deserve to know.”

He straightens his shirt sleeves under his blazer cuffs, fiddling with the buttons. Only this pretentious idiot would wear a shirt and blazer on a weekend. And what the hell does he mean, probably?Rude asshole.

“Zephyr came to live with my family when he was ten. By the time we were fourteen, he was already a very gifted seer.”

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