Chapter 10 Sagitta
Sagitta
Despite my exhaustion, my body obeyed its strict schedule and woke before dawn.
I sat up and let my surroundings soak in. I was on Chase’s couch, in Chase’s apartment.
He kissed me last night.
My eyes snapped open, fully awake now. A rush of liquid heat shot up my spine. I brushed my fingers lightly across my lips, as if seeking the ghost of his touch there.
I chewed my lip to dispel the sensation. No lingering. No pining. It was in everyone’s best interest to ignore what happened last night. I was here for serious work, not to kiss my client.
But... maybe it was fine if he kissed me. That was his decision to make. In which case I had no involvement whatsoever.
Guilt prickled the back of my neck. Out of habit, I glanced over my shoulder.
Nobody was there. The apartment was empty.
It was just me, Chase, and the demonic entity.
Here, I didn’t have to worry about Cygnet watching and judging my every move.
But if this didn’t work, then I’d have to crawl back to him with my tail between my legs and beg for his help.
No way in hell was I doing that.
Quietly, I got up from the couch and folded up my bedding in a neat pile. Although the first hint of pale light floated in through the window, the sky was still deep purple.
Chase’s bedroom door was ajar. Did he leave it open on purpose?
Was it... an invitation?
My pulse skittered, but I suppressed my inappropriate excitement. I was not here to have fun or fool around.
I took a steady breath and slipped into Chase’s bedroom. His shape beneath the covers rose and fell in a slow rhythm that confirmed he was still asleep.
The room smelled potently of him. Pure, undiluted Chase. It was a scent that, aggravatingly, was starting to grow on me.
The aquarium filter’s gentle hum was the only sound in the room aside from Chase’s breathing. As I glanced at the tank, I remembered the fish’s poor origin story—and how Chase saving the betta caused an unfamiliar twist of pain in my chest.
He’s kind, charismatic, and funny. And stupidly hot. He could have any partner he wanted. So what does he have to gain by kissing me?
The thought popped into my head without warning. I clenched my hands into fists until the cloud of self-deprecation passed.
I padded quietly towards Chase’s bed until I stood over him. Sandy blond tufts of hair flew in every direction. His pink lips were parted from slow breaths.
He doesn’t know I’m standing here. But what about the demon?
I’d heard tales of lesser demons being vanquished by attacking while their host slept. The human wasn’t harmed in the process, but if the demon was weak, it couldn’t summon the strength to protect itself. But what about a demon as infamous as Faust?
I’d left my bow and quiver in the living room, but I didn’t need them. A solid martial strike was good enough to test my theory.
I didn’t want to hit Chase, but my task was to get rid of the demon. I couldn’t leave any option unexplored.
Praying this would work, I raised my hand over Chase’s shoulder and chopped down in a sharp arc.
As my hand met his shoulder, it bounced like a rubber duck off a brick wall.
I knew it. Faust was no ordinary demon. He had the power to exert his will over Chase’s body even while his host was unconscious.
But if that was the case, why hadn’t Faust taken over to cause chaos in the streets?
I remembered our escape from the temple. Faust was eager to control Chase’s body, but he’d handed it over in exchange for donuts.
Is this all a joke to him?
I narrowed my eyes. Chase hadn’t roused. He was innocently, mercifully asleep. He had no idea the demon still had full control over his body. That he could usurp Chase at any moment.
“Why?” I whispered angrily. “What’s your goal, you wretch?”
Chase continued to sleep, unaware of the evil inside of him.
Anger kindled in the pit of my stomach. Now that I knew Chase better, I was even more determined to exorcise the foul entity possessing him. He was a good person. He didn’t deserve this.
My gaze drifted to Chase’s peaceful face. His golden eyelashes were folded against his cheeks, and his sandy hair swept haphazardly across his forehead. I felt the urge to brush it aside.
Wait...
My brow furrowed in thought. Faust had stopped me from striking Chase with the intent to expel him. But would Faust intervene if I touched Chase gently, just for the sake of touching him?
Curious, I hovered my hand over Chase’s head. With the lightest movement I could muster, I swept aside a soft tuft of hair and tucked it behind his ear. Chase didn’t stir.
And Faust did nothing.
What is going on? What’s the meaning of this...?
My heart raced. I tried again. This time I rested my palm on Chase’s head, threading my fingers through his hair. It was soft and clean. As dawn light filtered into the room, its glow caught Chase’s light-coloured hair like a halo.
Warmth stirred in my belly.
But it was quickly followed by a snap of cold.
I jerked my hand away, my heart beating wildly. What was I thinking, petting my client’s hair? It was wrong.
But it felt so nice.
“Mm... What smells so good?”
I raised my head at the sound of Chase’s sleepy voice. He sniffed the air as he walked into the kitchen, like a dog following his nose—which, of course, led him straight to the cheesy scrambled eggs sizzling in my pan.
An absentminded thought floated into my mind: I always wanted a dog, but we were never allowed.
I pulled the brakes hard on that particular train of thought. It was bad enough that I liked it when Chase kissed me. I didn’t need to start thinking of him as a cute puppy that I could adopt.
Even though he really did remind me of an overgrown golden retriever. Especially with his sandy hair flopping over his forehead, and how his big hands dangled like paws.
I cleared my throat. “Good morning. Sleep well?”
“Like a baby.” Chase scratched his belly, revealing a tantalizing sliver of skin that I did my best not to notice. “You?”
“It was fine.”
He tilted his head. “Yo, if the couch isn’t comfortable, just say the word and we can swap. You take my bed and I’ll crash on the couch.”
My body jerked at the offer. I nearly flung the eggs onto the ceiling.
“I can’t sleep in your bed!” I stammered.
“Why?”
Chase’s innocent question sent a wave of heat prickling up my arms. Was he that oblivious? How could he be so unaware after kissing me twice?
“I—It’s not—”
He put his palms up, looking slightly dejected. “Okay, okay, it was only a suggestion.”
My face burned. He’d misunderstood my hesitation. It wasn’t that I found it objectionable, or that I didn’t want to. In fact, being enveloped in the smell of him seemed... pleasant.
I roughly dumped the scrambled eggs onto the plates. “Here. Eat.”
Chase perked up. He thanked me and shovelled them into his mouth.
As I picked at my own plate, I wondered if the demon had spoken to Chase this morning. Did he mention my thwarted attack? Or worse, the fact that I’d stroked Chase’s hair while he slept?
I refused to let the demon get the upper hand on me.
“You should know that I attempted an exorcism trick on you last night. A sleep strike,” I explained to Chase.
He glanced up from his plate. “Huh?”
“Essentially, I attacked you in your sleep. It’s a common tactic used on lesser demons. It ejects them without harming the host. But Faust thwarted me.”
“You attacked me? When?” Chase asked casually.
“A couple hours ago. You slept through it.”
“Oh.” He sounded disappointed, like he’d missed the excitement.
Then he paused. I recognized that telltale look on his face. The demon was speaking to him.
“Uh, Faust says something else happened, too.”
I gritted my teeth. That piece of shit demon... He forced me to out myself before he did.
“To test my theory, I gently touched your hair,” I admitted, trying to sound nonchalant about it. “I apologize.”
Chase sat up straighter. He gawked for a few seconds before stammering, “No, it’s fine. It’s cool. I don’t mind.” He picked up his fork, fumbled it, then put it back down. “So let me get this straight. Faust stopped you from attacking me, but not from petting me?”
I nearly choked.
“I didn’t pet you,” I asserted, despite the heat blooming in my core. “And I didn’t attack you, I attacked the demon.”
“Okay.”
An awkward silence descended as we finished our breakfast. As soon as Chase was done, I grabbed his plate and put the dishes in the sink.
“Hey, you don’t have to do all that,” Chase insisted. “You’re a guest. Let me handle it.”
A guest. Right. I was a guest in Chase’s home. An exorcist here to deal with a demon. Not to develop some silly infatuation with my client.
“Sorry. Habit,” I muttered.
I needed action. I needed work. Otherwise I’d never get my mind off Chase and how he was growing on me like a stubborn kudzu vine.
“The demon must have a weakness, and I’m going to find it,” I declared. “I will save you from the demon’s influence. Mark my words.”
Chase’s eyes flashed, and he nodded. “I believe you.”
Those three small words pierced my chest like a dagger.
He trusted me. I would not let him down.
“Oh wait.” Chase got that distant look again. “Faust wants to tell you something, but I don’t know if I should listen, ‘cause you told me not to do that.”
I scowled. Faust was definitely screwing with me.
“Whatever he says is a lie,” I stated. “A demon wouldn’t spill its secrets on purpose.”
Chase pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. “I dunno. I think he’s serious.” He glanced at the Dustin’s Donuts boxes sitting on the counter. “He said it’s payback for your kindness yesterday.”
A derisive snort escaped me. How did Chase not realize the demon was screwing with him, too? He was too naive. A demon’s gratitude was as real as a three-dollar bill.
Still, I needed all the information I could get my hands on. If it helped me gain an edge, I’d play along with Faust’s scheme.
“Fine,” I ground out. “What does the demon want to tell me?”
Chase paused as he listened. Then his cheeks flushed beet red.
“What is it? What’s it saying?” I demanded.
“Um,” Chase rasped. “He said... he would hate it if we went to a sex toy store.”
I stared at him in silence.
“Pardon me?” I asked, enunciating every syllable.
Chase shrugged. “That’s what he said. He said he really hates that kind of stuff, so you could use that knowledge against him.”
Oh god. Chase was an idiot.
And I was infatuated with said idiot.
In a slow, haggard motion, I dragged my hands down my face. I didn’t even know where to begin. In the end, my brain short-circuited and I gave up.
“All right,” I muttered. “Let’s go.”