Page 165 of The Demon's Pet

My eyes widened. “What?”

“They needed a new executioner,” he said. “No celestials wanted to get their wings dirty. I used my ninth-realm blood to get the job, though I could tell Gabe would have rather worked with a dirty towel than a slayer with half-demon blood. Still, they’re desperate to find the Morningstar.”

“Why?” I asked.

“To kill it,” he said simply, folding his arms. “To stop it from being able to take down the most corrupt, most powerful of their kind.” He sighed. “You don’t understand, Cleo. The ninth-realm gods have been unstoppable for too long. They can invade the abyssal realms, cause so much pain and torture. The Morningstar can—”

I put up a hand. “I don’t think I can handle any more information about the Morningstar for now. I’m willing to train and at least consider doing what you ask of me.” My eyes met his shyly. “Because, truly, you’ve saved my life. It’s been better since you’ve been by my side. But that’s not why I came to talk to you.”

He stared at me in confusion.

I looked around the graveyard. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” I moved over to the willow and placed my hand on the trunk, feeling the bark. “Your room looks out on this?”

His expression was neutral, but I could see how tightly he was holding himself to keep from showing a reaction.

“Kind of weird, watching a graveyard,” I said. “Unless someone is there.”

His face went a little paler. “I have to go.”

“Wait,” I said. “Simon told me about your brother.”

Sam whirled, white as a sheet. “That stupid vampire. I’m gonna—”

I moved in front of him, stopping him with a hand on his chest. My heart jumped at the feel of his hard, warm muscles and his heart beating against my hand.

Gently, he removed my hand and pushed me backward.

“I don’t need your pity,” he said. “My brother made the right choice. It wasn’t his fault it went wrong.” Sam sucked in a breath that looked painful, and his eyes were slightly wild.

“But?” I asked.

His eyes met mine. “But it hurts every day.”

I came forward then, unable to resist holding him, and I felt him freeze in my arms. Then his hands came around me, and he let out a breath of surrender combined with annoyance as he enfolded me in a hug.

“You’re making me too soft, Cleo,” he said.

“You let Zarris beat you, didn’t you?” I asked against his shoulder. “Not because you were manipulating me, but because you couldn’t hurt someone like you.”

His jaw tightened, and he pulled back to peer down at me as his hands found my shoulders. “You have a soft heart, Cleo. Too soft to be a good slayer. We’ll have to harden it up.” He let me go and turned away from me.

“Am I right, though?”

He turned around to meet my gaze with haunted eyes. “Yes. But it’s not as intentional as you think. I simply recognized the pain in his eyes and knew what he felt, and for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him after that.” He gave a soft shrug of one large shoulder. “That’s all.”

“That was kind of you,” I called after him as he continued to walk away. I got the feeling this had already been too much for him.

All I got was a vague nod as he left. When he reached the side doors to the cathedral, he turned and held up his hand with three fingers, which I instantly took as a reminder to come train with him at three.

Then he disappeared, leaving me with only an empty graveyard, the wind whistling through the willow’s branches, and the echo of the fathomless heartache I’d seen in Sam’s eyes.

40

There was a challenge in Sam’s eyes when he met me in the courtyard at three for practice, as if he were daring me to mention the things we’d talked about beneath the willow.

Though I would never forget that moment, that secret look into the deep recesses of his heart, I understood and respected that he didn’t want to go any further in talking about it.

Even if I was dying to know more.

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