Page 95 of Demon Found

Cracking the door open, the first thing that hits me is the wave of heat. Instead of being overpowering, my body relaxes. Huh. Must be a demon thing to like inferno-level heat.

Peering around the door, I take in Belinda’s gleaming poker-straight hair, scanning the side of her face for injury. Nothing. She must be feeling okay to straighten her damn hair. A little spark of hope flares. Maybe I didn’t hurt herthatbadly.

Belinda turns toward me, and my hope withers and dies. Her neck, down to the top of her hospital gown is a mass of angry puckered tissue. Shit. Her eyes narrow, and she lets out a bellow of rage.

“Wait. Wait, Belinda. I . . . I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you, demon-spawn!”

Well, technically not incorrect. I shrug halfheartedly.

“Iamsorry.”

“I don’t care if you’re sorry. Think that makes any difference? Look at me! A scarred succubus?” She gives a scornful laugh. “What use am I now?”

I’ve never attempted aether healing but my hands are itching just looking at her scars. My magic knows what to do, it’s guiding me. “I might be able to help.” I hold my hands up and move toward her. She lets out a shriek and scrambles back.

“Get away from me!”

She’s terrified. I back away as the nurse hurries into the room.

I bolt out of the infirmary, blinking back stupid tears. I did that. I hurt her like that. I made her scared of me.

I wander along the campus paths aimlessly. I don’t get to be upset about this. It’s my fault. What if everyone’s afraid of me? A gray desolation washes over me.

My feet lead me away from the infirmary, past the academic offices, toward the wood.

“Ah, there you are, Miss Smith. A word, if you please?”

Startled, I look up. Professor Maggo is floating directly in front of me, wringing his hands. I can’t do this. I don’t have the patience for my guidance teacher today. I shake my head and walk away. I’m in trouble for nearly killing someone, turning my back on a professor can’t really be up there with that.

“I have information for you, young lady.”

My feet slow, and before I’m even aware of how it happened, I’m ensconced in Professor Maggo’s office, perched between piles of books with a coffee clutched in my trembling hands.

I’m shaking? Great. I thought I was a badass fearless demon now. Surely there are no more damn revelations left to spring on me.

“First, I believe you might want to keep these somewhat better hidden in future.” Maggo drops Naeve’s book on the True History of Eltanin into my lap, followed seconds later by a heavy glass ball. The paperweight I stole from the dean.Shit.“Luckily, the guard who searched your room debriefed me, not the dean. I suggest you’re not so careless in the future.”

I tuck the book quickly into my pocket and roll the paperweight in one hand before securing it away, my heart hammering. The dean said one more transgression and I’m out.Shit.

“Moving on. As your guidance teacher, the least I could do was some digging. You seem to be rather more powerful than we thought.”

What? Now that I’m a powerful harpy-demon cross he’s interested. When he thought I was just a poor weak harpy crossed with fuck-knows-what, not so much. I arch an eyebrow.

“I rather think I knew your father.”

My cup slips between my fingers. I flail, scrabbling to save it. It pauses. It fucking pauses, hovering in the air, mere centimeters from a pile of books.

“Be careful,” Maggo mutters, pulling his precious books to safety before snatching up the cup and handing it back. I place it down on the floor, the china rattling in the saucer as my fingers tremble.

“YouknewDad?”

“I knew him well enough to call him a friend. It all fell into place when you emerged as a demon. Looking at you now . . . how did I miss the similarities? When I finally checked the records, your DNA is a match for Levi. You, young Lorelei, are not a Smith.”

He turns to the wall and lifts down a year group photograph, passing it to me. I trace my finger across the unfamiliar faces. Finding a young scruffy Maggo, I pause. Next to him is my dad. My breath catches in my throat. I wasn’t sure I remembered his face. My memories have blurred. To see him after all this time, to recognize him . . . I press my lips together and flip the photo over.

Ascending Students: Year of the Rabbit.

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