Page 29 of Demon Sworn
“Katty! Stop being weird. I wanna play!”
I let him go reluctantly, asking again, “But where’ve you been?”
“Looking for Godzilla, duh,” he says with a roll of his eyes as he walks away from me, not bothering to grab his shirt, and takes Kastros’s hand, tugging on him. “Kas, help me find my toy?” Adam asks.
Kastros gives me a questioning look, but I nod as I throw my hand over my mouth. I’m about to lose it, and Adam doesn’t need to see that.
What did they do to him?
“Come here, Cherry.” It’s a demand, one I’m helpless to ignore as I fall into Akor’s arms, my head resting on his chest. He holds me against him as I decide whether I want to fall apart in despair or relief.
But fuck despair. I mean seriously, fuck it. I don’t want to wallow and cry over what might’ve been now that I have my brother back with me. He seems to be unharmed, and that’s the most I could’ve hoped for when dealing with…when dealing with the monsters who took him. That’s what they are. Because only monsters would kidnap a little boy.
“He’s okay,” Akor reminds me, stroking my back. “You’re okay. Everyone is okay. Everything will be okay. Hmmm…I should write sympathy cards, don’t you think?”
I huff out a dry, humorless laugh, attempting to look through the plethora of emotions swirling within my stomach. They taste like death on my tongue, like sooty ash and copper.
My brother’s back.
He’s alive.
He’s here.
But what did they do to him?
Why doesn’t he remember anything?
What happened?
It seems that with every positive statement I conjure up, there are a thousand negative questions. Somethingdidhappen to my brother, and I have no idea what that something is. Was he tortured and then healed using demon powers or whatever? Did he cry for me? Or did he simply believe he was with my parents this entire time?
And what type of demon has an illusion power that…thatstrong?
Akor pulls away from me and flicks my forehead.
“Ow!” I bring my palm up to my head automatically as he glares down at me, his pink mohawk startlingly bright in the dim light of the foyer. He’s a wet dream on the outside, a nightmare on the inside. My perfect nightmare.
“Stop overthinking,” he warns, rubbing his hands up and down my bare arms and creating goosebumps in their wake.
“But that message…” I bite down anxiously on my lower lip as something dark enters Akor’s eyes. If I didn’t love him the way I do, I might’ve feared him right then and there. But I could never fear any of my demons—not even Kastros, who betrayed me most of all. Maybe that’s what makes them different from the other monsters lurking on this Earth. Instead of merely being evil, they’re astute monsters, noticing things I would rather they didn’t.
“No one will harm you or Adam again. Do you understand me?” Akor’s grip tightens on my arms almost imperceptibly, but instead of pain, heat migrates from where he touches me, running through my veins like bursts of electricity. My heart pitter-patters like spring rain hitting a window and cascading down the glass planes as I’m struck by the sheersincerityin Akor’s gaze. Ringing in his voice.
He would die before he let someone hurt me or my brother, and that’s a terrifying thought.
My throat feels clogged, almost like a wad of clunky food getting stuck in a garbage disposal, and I slowly lean forward to rest my forehead on Akor’s chest once more.
“Call the others.” My words are muffled by his shirt. “We need to talk.”
* * *
When Raz stormsthrough the door less than an hour later smelling vaguely of ash and smoke, I’m cuddled in Akor’s lap as he plants gentle kisses to my neck. Raz takes one look at me, and his face drains of color, turning a stark, deadly shade of white.
“What happened?” he demands, his claws elongating and his wings expanding from his back. He resembles an animal lying in wait, hiding inside long, weedy grass and using every ounce of patience not to charge at his prey until he’s able to devour it in one fatal swoop. Van and Zolroth, who have both stepped inside after him, freeze as well, terror etched onto their faces.
“Is it Adam?” Van’s voice is a breathy whisper, laced with so much horror, I feel it like a bullet wound to the chest.
“Yes—”
