Page 159 of The Demon's Pet

Nic bit his lower lip. “Sam really didn’t tell you anything, did he?”

I shook my head. “So how do I get it?”

“That’s not for me to say,” Nic said. “A slayer should tell you.”

“Right,” I said, head hurting slightly from all the new information. “So why are you here with Betty?” I asked Nic.

“Sam got me a job here,” he said. “He told me to find Betty, and she’s helping me support my family. I use my void portals to bring her rare materials, and she pays me what I need.”

I folded my hands in my lap. “So you’re part of the demon world?”

He nodded. “The void realm is to the demon realm as the fae realm is to the celestial realm. Neighbors and allies.”

“Interesting,” I said weakly. “I still can’t believe demons have alphas and omegas like celestials do.”

Nic sighed. “Celestials will do anything to get the worship and belief they need to feed. Demons have tight communities like packs. The alphas protect them. And unlike the selfish celestials, the slayers protect their kind for free. No tithe. No worship needed.”

I looked at him sideways. “Then why do they do it?”

“Ask Sam,” Nic said. “I’m not a slayer. I’m just glad that one saved me when he did.”

“So Sam is a slayer?” I asked. “That’s why he has a sword? Why does he have two of them?”

Nic looked forward, his expression sobering. “Those things… I think you have to ask Sam about them.” His eyes darted to the graveyard and the willow looming over it next to the cathedral up ahead.

It looked even lonelier from this vantage point, the lush grass emphasizing the bleached white stones like bones protruding from the ground.

The willow branches swayed in the breeze, giving me a haunted feeling.

“While you traveled with Sam in the celestial realms—or anywhere they only know him as Samael, the angel of death who walks with the celestials—he surely hid a lot from you. Just in a day, Betty has caught me up. So I could tell you. But I think you should hear certain things from him.” Nic blushed lightly. “I think if it’s you, he’d want to tell you himself.” He smiled. “There’s something between you. I could tell.”

I sent him a grin. “I’m glad you’re okay, Nic.”

He looked mildly disappointed that I didn’t confirm or deny something between me and Sam, but I wasn’t ready to tell anyone.

And for all I knew, Sam saved me only because I served a purpose and fed on me only to heal.

But it didn’t feel that way.

“Nic!” Betty’s voice yelled from the cracked door to the shack. “Get back in here. I need you to go for some more wood.”

Nic smiled at me. “I hope we’ll see each other again soon.” He stood, brushing his pants off. “And remember, you can come to me for anything.”

Then he headed inside, and I sat on the bench for a moment, thinking about all the things I needed to ask Sam.

Slowly, I got up and made my way back through the courtyard and up to the back entrance to the cathedral where there were huge double doors.

But just as I reached the steps leading up to them, Griffin burst through, his huge chest heaving. He wore a blue shirt with jeans, and when he saw me, he let out a huge sigh of relief and leaned forward, putting his hands on his knees to recover his breath.

“I’m glad I found you, Cleo. We’ve got to get out of here. Sam is crazy. Everyone here is crazy. And there’s so much you don’t know.”

“Calm down,” I said, going over to him and rubbing his back. “Hang on a minute. We’ll go downstairs and talk, okay?”

“Okay, but it’s not safe here, Cleo. We need to get your things and run.” He pushed himself up and grabbed my hand, pulling me inside the cathedral.

As we walked down the center aisle, I heard footsteps coming from the direction of Sam’s quarters. A moment later, Sam appeared, tall and gorgeous in a white tee and jeans, his golden-brown hair gleaming in the light streaming through the stained-glass windows, his tattoos showing on both arms.

He folded them, glaring at us ominously. “Just where are you two going?”

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