Page 177 of The Demon's Pet

“I don’t want that,” I said, sweat breaking out on my forehead as I realized the implications.

“Most importantly, you don’t need that. Not yet. You have so many other powers and ways to fight that have fewer risks. Fight with those. I’ll make sure the collar allows it.”

“Fine then,” I said, folding my arms, as the night air was starting to bite through my tank top.

He snapped his fingers, and the air moved and swirled in front of me until a black piece of fabric appeared. A blanket. He plucked it out of the air and put it around my shoulders.

“Always making me use my celestial powers,” he said. Then one corner of his mouth lifted. “I still remember when you made me build that house in minotaur territory.”

I laughed, thinking about how mad I’d been. “Yes. You were a jerk about it, calling it a doghouse.”

“I’m a jerk in general, and I was doing my best to push you away,” he retorted. Then he pursed his lips. “Though, I am sorry.”

I shrugged. “Forgiven.”

“Come with me,” he said, waving for me to follow him into the cathedral. He pushed open the heavy double doors, and it was empty and quiet, the dust catching the moonlight as it drifted quietly through the air.

He led me through the main hall and down the turns that led to his chambers. But instead of his bedroom, we turned right and went through an ornate door into a little sitting room that had ceiling-high windows in a semicircle.

Ornate, cushioned chairs with elaborate carving in their arms and legs awaited us. Sam sank into one, gesturing for me to take the other.

“I’m sorry I walked out on your training today,” he said, frowning and keeping his gaze trained on the willow outside the window. “I shouldn’t have gotten frustrated. This is all new to you, after all.”

“I shouldn’t have been defensive and insulting,” I said, twisting my hands in my lap. “I do appreciate what you’ve done for me. I don’t judge you for killing at all.”

“Don’t you?” He raised an eyebrow, and in my heart, I knew he was right to doubt me.

“Maybe it’s the celestial in me,” I said. “I was taught life is sacred.” I sighed. “I’ve never had trouble fighting back or breaking a nose if I had to. But those things aren’t permanent. People come back from them. I hate the idea that I could take everything from someone, and it would never be given back.” I swallowed painfully, then met his dark eyes, focusing on the gold at the centers. “I just don’t know how I can have the right to do that.”

“Not only the right, but the responsibility,” he said. He exhaled, looking over at the window again. “If this world were different…” He shook his head, ruffling the curls there. “There are bad things and bad people. They will try to hurt you and others. They won’t stop, and they will sense your unwillingness to hurt them back. They will use it against you.”

“I hate that,” I said. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, and—”

“That is a disadvantage,” he said. He let out a long exhale. “Look, I was like you. I think that’s why I was drawn to you from the start. When I was younger, before I got my celestial powers, I was weak. As an incubus, I had no power, other than feeding. Celestials grow at a different rate, and so my powers didn’t manifest for a long time. My brother was my protector. His father was a powerful slayer, and he grew into his skills before me.”

I nodded, listening intently.

“Gods, I never thought I’d be talking about this,” Sam said quietly, more to himself than me. “Anyway, he taught me something important when he would share skills with me to help me learn to fight better.”

“I hear he was truly a legend,” I said.

“He was,” Sam said, eyes growing misty. He jabbed at them with the sleeve of his bathrobe, remaining composed. “Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, one day, he said something that really stuck with me.”

“What’s that?”

“That the killing is better than the dying.”

“Huh?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “As a slayer, he had to kill to protect others. If he hesitated, he got to see those he was trying to protect die or suffer horribly. He told me it is better to love the killing than to see the dying.”

I shook my head, my throat tight and painful. “That’s awful. It shouldn’t have to be like that.”

“But it is,” Sam said, leaning forward to tilt my chin up lightly. “Cleo, how many people would have hurt you if I hadn’t killed them?”

I blinked, tears filling my eyes. “I don’t want that, though. That choice…”

“I know,” he said, dabbing at my tears gently with his robe. “I know. You’re gentle. That’s why I know you’ll make good choices. You’ll only kill when it’s absolutely needed.” He relaxed, sitting back again. “You have others with you to take care of the rest.”

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