Page 6 of Demon Sworn
I grab a pen and roll it across the desk to him.
3
Kastros
We leavethe office building with the address of an apartment complex scribbled onto a bloodstained scrap of diploma paper.
The sliver of the moon looks just as sharp as the blade in Akor’s hand. He’s practically skipping in glee, his pink mohawk bouncing. Even though the coward gave up the information we wanted almost immediately, Akor took his time “playing.”
I’m not sure the sixteen pot-bellied pigs that Akor forced the man to order online for his wife are going to be appreciated, even with the bank transfer of cash. Pretty sure the guy’s will written in blood on the wall will outweigh those things. But Akor thinks that because a menagerie softened up Katrina—
Just the thought of her name sends a railroad spike through my heart. Fuck.
She hates me. She should. She should hate me with all the force that God hates the Devil. Because I betrayed her.
But I didn't know…
I thought I was protecting my murder. I didn't know what it meant to have a Center. I only understood that it was supposedly a weakness. I had no idea that love could be such a strength, that it could forge bonds stronger than iron.
I didn’t understand that Katrina would become the entire reason for my existence, that she would slam into our group and fuse with all of us in a way that’s changed everything irreversibly. For the better.
I’m no goddamned poet, but she’s my axis. My existence revolves around her.
If I had the power to turn back time, I would without a second thought, even if it caused the goddamn apocalypse.
I have to shove those thoughts away. I have to focus on something else, because until I get to talk with Katrina, if she ever wants to speak to me, until I get to apologize—which will never be enough—all the thoughts about what I've done are just a trencher carving a canyon in my chest.
I need to prove to her that I've changed. I’m not that same demon, the one under pressure to keep his murder safe, the one who believed stupid tales told by other lying demons, those too bitter to realize they’d killed their only source of true happiness.
I cut my mind off as Akor and I slide into our seats, and Van rolls his eyes as he takes the bloodied scrap from our pain demon and programs the address into his phone, muttering about bloodstains.
I breathe slow and deep, reminding myself that launching out of this car and flying right to where Adam’s being held is a bad idea. It’s conspicuous. And we don’t need that. We need to strike quickly and silently so that her parents can’t raise an alarm. We need to snatch our little man back, and then…then I can return on my wings and smite them where they stand—those awful souls who are as spineless as maggots, who fed for years off my poor Katrina’s heartbreak.
Thunder crackles as I pop my knuckles, and Van glances at me in the rearview mirror. “Keep it penned in, big guy.”
I just nod and glance out the window, trying not to think about the fact that Adam just bribed me into filling our freezer with popsicles. He wanted to buy a kiddie pool and let them melt and refreeze into the world’s biggest popsicle and then post the video on TikTok.
I will make that happen.
Just as I blow out a deep breath, the metal on the sides of the van creaks, arching inward as if I’ve pulled it with my inhale.
“Kas, knock it off!” Van snarls. “You’re gonna end up breaking the windows.”
I close my eyes and try to meditate, try to control my vengeance powers taking on a life of their own.
I need to find Adam. That’s the first thing. When that sweet little boy is safe in her arms, then I can think about everything else.
I stare ahead.
Van drives the van. Akor can’t stop commenting on the farce of this, though it quickly grates on my nerves.
“Van took the van with a plan. He was going to kill a man! I should write kids’ books, don’t you think?” Akor asks as he lets his bloody machete hang out the window. Someone in a nearby car spots his weapon, screams, and swerves.
“Put that damn thing away before I have to lust some cops,” Van growls, missing his turn. He has to do a U-turn at the next light, and he banks it so hard, I slide across the middle seat and have to brace myself on the ceiling.
I’ve never seen the lust demon this angry.
Is it about Adam? Or me?
