Page 2 of Demon Sworn
“Don’t tell me what you’ll take care of!” I whirl around to face Akor, hating that I’m directing my ire at the men I love but unable to stop. Unlike Kastros, Akor doesn’t blanch at facing down my rage. If anything, his smile actually grows as if he’s envisioning all of the fucked-up things he can do to my parents once he finds them. A perk of being a pain demon, I imagine.
And a psychopath.
He scrubs a hand through his mohawk before nodding, the tiniest dip of his chin. “You don’t want to hear it, I understand that, but it’s the fucking truth. We’ll move Heaven and Hell to get Adam back where he belongs. With us. With this family. And I’ll be happy to eat the fingers of anyone who gets in our way. While they watch of course, because it’s more fun that way. Did you know human fingers taste nearly as good as chicken wings? Dip them in ketchup and there’s hardly a difference.”
“It’s all my fault.” I don’t even know who I’m talking to anymore. Myself? Them? The universe? I run a hand through my pink hair as I pace the carpet that Zolroth just cleaned a few days prior. I end up yanking on a few strands in my devastation and agitation. “It’s all my fault he was taken. I should’ve stayed behind. I should’ve…” Why didn’t I pick someone other than Sasha? Why didn’t I tell her my parents shouldn’t pick him up? I was too distracted, too excited by the prospect of helping the guys. Too selfish. Sasha wouldn’t have listened though. Who would? What babysitter would keep a child from his parents? My breathing speeds up as panic dances within me, swirling the meager contents of my stomach. “I should’ve…”
Raz appears, stomping back into the room, his breathing almost louder than his footsteps. He grabs me roughly and pulls me into his arms, pressing a kiss to my forehead, but I don’t want his comfort. Fuck, I don’t deserve it. There’s a gaping hole in my chest, directly where my heart once was, and I know it won’t be complete until we get my little brother back and I feel him in my arms, safe and content.
I untangle myself from Raz, feeling whipped and bloody and splayed open for the world to see, and duck my head, unable to meet any of their penetrating gazes.
Without a word, without even a fucking acknowledgment, I hurry down the nearest hall and throw myself into the first room I see. Almost distantly, I make note of the immaculately-made bed, the collection of shoes visible in the closet, and the gray suits on hangers. Zolroth’s room.
I tumble onto his black silk sheets, the fabric vaguely smelling like my posh lover, like cigar smoke and citrus, and allow myself one second to fall apart and weep. All of my pain…
My fear…
It bleeds out of me as I cry into his pillow.
How could I have let this happen? How? It’s my responsibility to love and protect Adam, and I let him fall back into the arms of those…of thosemonsters. And the worst part? He doesn’t even realize how bad they truly are, his young, innocent mind seeing them as the heroes of his story, the man and woman who are supposed to love him unconditionally.
Does he realize I’m the one who changed his diapers when he was a baby? The one who fed him, clothed him, loved him? Does he know that our parents haven’t remembered his birthday since the day he was born? That it’s me who buys him all the gifts on Christmas and puts their names on them, so he feels loved?
I know I’m his sister—I know that—but at some point in our lives, my role changed.
I feel less like a sister and more like a mother.
Hismother.
That thought normally would terrify me, but right now, it gives me strength. It eats away at the blackness encroaching at the edges of my vision, filling the dark spaces with brilliant light.
“Katrina.” The voice is soft, barely a whisper, and all my muscles tense before I force them to relax. Silently, I scoot over on the bed so Zolroth has room to slide in next to me.
He strips out of his suit, which has been utterly ruined by our battle in Heaven. He takes out Adam’s little toy car, though, and sets it on his dresser, like a memento. I stare at him while he stares at it for a second before he yanks open a drawer and tugs on some sleep pants. Then Zolroth makes his way over to me, his eyebrows lifted and his mouth turned down in the universal expression of sympathy.
He wraps an arm around my shoulder and positions me until my head is on his chest, my ear directly over his rapidly beating heart. I can feel each consecutive thump like it’s a living entity, like it’s trying to jump out of his chest and into mine so we’re merged as one.
“We’ll get him back, love, don’t you worry,” Zolroth says at last, his honey-toned British accent washing over me like a warm spring rain. I shiver instinctively, moving my legs so they’re tangled with his long ones.
“Zolroth, I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him—”
“We’ll get him back,” he repeats, lowering his head to kiss my nose. “Darling, you should know by now that there’s nothing we won’t do for you. We’ll give you the world. We’ll lasso Heaven from the sky and create a wind that blows every cloud in Hell into a damned black hole if that’s what you want. Finding two measly, albeit disgusting and gormless humans is absolutely nothing, my love. We’ll find them, and then we’ll bring Adam back where he belongs. He’s not just your family anymore. He’s ours too.”
Zolroth hugs me to his chest, and I listen to the soft thump of his heart as he pets my hair gently for a few moments. I start to cry, and he lets me wring myself out, which takes a long, long time. When I grow quiet because my nose is swollen and throat is too sore to continue, he kisses the top of my head and says, “Do you know the moment I first thought of Adam as mine?”
This question stops me in my tracks because I wasn’t aware the guys felt that way. I didn’t know any of them had claimed Adam… I know they love him, because we’re a package deal, and that they like playing around with him, but as I hear the break in Zolroth’s voice, I realize how much my sweet little brother has affected them.
“There was one day where I was on pickup duty from daycare. I think you had decathlon or something.” I glance up to see Zolroth’s eyes focused on a mirror across the room, one of many. But from the way he’s staring at it, I can tell he’s lost in memory rather than searching his own reflection.
“Adam had an accident. He’d wet himself at naptime, and he was too embarrassed to tell you. He said you’d get mad—”
“I wouldn’t,” I interrupt.
Zolroth reaches his hand out and threads our fingers together. “I know, lovey. But he thought that. And he came to me for help.” He turns his deep brown eyes in my direction, and his thick lips curve into a smile as soft as silk. “He wanted me to buy him a new outfit, the exact same one, and burn the old one so you’d never know.”
“Did you?” I ask.
He pulls my fingers to his lips and takes his time kissing the tip of each one. “Of course. We burned the outfit in one of our fire columns. Had a new one before you got home that day.”
