Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ramona walked down the hall toward the kitchen, already planning her route: get water, drink it fast, go back to her room where a demon was currently arranging herself in a chair that looked like it was designed by someone who hates comfort.
She rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped.
Cammie was sitting at the table, eating the leftover spaghetti straight from the sauce pot, wearing her pajamas with damp hair. She looked up when Ramona entered, fork halfway to her mouth, and grinned.
“So,” Cammie said, waggling her eyebrows. “Zara.”
Ramona moved to the sink, filling a glass with water. “What about her?”
“Oh, come on. Don’t play coy.” Cammie leaned forward conspiratorially. “She’s gorgeous. That suit? The way she talks? Felix said Gerald literally bowed to her.”
“Gerald is just getting soft in his old age,” Ramona tried.
Cammie balked. “Gerald bit the mailman last week.”
Fair point. Ramona drank half the glass in one go, buying time.
“How long have you been seeing her?” Cammie asked.
Ramona paused, blinking. “Oh, we’re not — she’s just a friend.”
“Uh-huh. A friend who’s sleeping in your room.” Cammie giggled — giggled! Ramona clearly needed to get the situation under control, fast.
“Just friends, I swear,” Ramona said. The idea of being Zara’s friend was bizarre. Did demons have friends in Hell? She’d never even asked if Zara had a family. Maybe she had a demon husband or wife or… partner-something.
“Well, I think she’s—” Cammie paused as the front door opened. Voices in the entryway: Felix’s laugh, loud and caffeinated, and Kashvi’s quieter response. “Oh good, backup.”
Felix and Kashvi appeared in the kitchen doorway together, Felix still holding a gigantic bag of dice from his game, Kashvi with her library tote slung over one shoulder. Gerald was nestled inside Felix’s shirt pocket, tiny pigeon eyes closed.
“Ramona!” Felix’s face lit up. “Perfect. We need details.”
Ramona held up her hands like she was being held at wand-point. “There are no details.”
“There are always details.” Felix dropped into a chair, gesturing dramatically.
Gerald bristled in Felix’s pocket, his eyes opening as he scanned the room.
“Zara knew the Latincane name for Gerald. The scientific classification. She treated him like royalty. I’m obsessed with her and also slightly afraid. ”
“She’s very polite,” Ramona said carefully. “And smart.”
“She’s intense,” Cammie corrected. “In a hot way. But also in a ‘might be secretly a vampire’ way.”
Ramona choked. “She’s not a vampire.”
“That’s exactly what someone dating a vampire would say,” Felix pointed out. Gerald gave an annoyed coo in apparent agreement.
“I’m not dating her.”
“But you want to,” Kashvi said quietly, setting her bag down. It wasn’t a question.
Ramona felt her face heat. “I… That’s not—”
“Your magical signature changed,” Kashvi continued, studying Ramona with calm curiosity. “I felt it last night. There’s something threaded through it now. Like a connection.”
“What kind of connection?” Felix asked, delighted. He was one step away from tapping his fingertips together like an excited movie villain.
“I’m not sure. It’s…” Kashvi tilted her head. “Unusual. Old magic, maybe? But active. Like it’s still forming.”
“That’s so romantic,” Cammie sighed. “Like a soulmate bond or something.”
“Okay, all right, that’s…” Ramona paused, because if Kashvi was picking up on the tether, she needed a cover.
What could she say? No, it’s not a soulmate bond, I’ve accidentally bound a demon to me until we can figure out how to ritually sever our tie?
It seemed that leaning into the facade was the only way to get them to stop considering it.
“It’s just new, okay? And I don’t want to freak her out.
So I need everyone to play it cool while we…
you know, figure it out.” It wasn’t entirely a lie.
Felix’s grin widened. “Oh, you’re blushing.”
“I’m not blushing.” Ramona held her palms over her cheeks to hide any evidence that may be lurking.
Cammie grinned. “You’re definitely blushing.”
Before Ramona could defend herself, Posey appeared in the doorway, covered in soil and holding a wilting potted plant that looked like it had one leaf in the grave already.
“Are we talking about Ramona’s girlfriend?” Posey asked brightly.
“Kashvi says there’s a magical connection,” Cammie supplied helpfully.
“Ooh, what kind?” Posey asked, her eyes widening.
“We’re trying to figure that out,” Felix said, stroking Gerald’s head gently with a knuckle. “But Ramona won’t give us any details.”
“Because it’s new and I don’t want to jinx it.” Ramona tried her best to blush, which wasn’t hard, considering how deeply embarrassed she was already. “We’re taking things slow.”
“Ah yes. Slow with someone who sleeps in your tiny room,” Posey pointed out.
“And who Gerald likes,” Felix said with a coo of agreement from the pigeon in question.
“And she’s already magically connected to you,” Kashvi finished.
“How’d you meet?” Cammie asked, leaning forward like she was watching an episode of Love Potion. “Is she a witch?”
“She’s definitely a witch,” Felix said. “She’s definitely magical.”
Kashvi tilted her head. “How did you meet?”
They all looked at Ramona expectantly.
“Hey, darling,” Zara’s voice called out, and Ramona watched Posey swoon. “Are you coming to bed?”
Four sets of expectant eyes — five, counting Gerald — swung to her with interest.
“Uh, yes. I’m coming,” Ramona said, and she thought she heard one of her roommates make a vulgar joke as she hurried down the hallway.
Ramona closed her bedroom door behind her, muffling their voices.
Zara was sitting on the edge of the bed.
Not in the chair. On the bed. Hands folded in her lap, posture perfect, expression carefully neutral in the dim light from the streetlamp outside.
“Please tell me demons have terrible hearing,” Ramona asked with an embarrassed grimace.
“I heard,” Zara said quietly. “That’s why I saved you.”
Ramona closed the door behind her, leaning against it. “Thank you.”
Zara’s voice was careful. “You seemed… distressed.”
“Distressed?” Ramona crossed to the bed, sitting down with more space between them than was probably necessary. “Try complete and total mortification.”
“They seem… enthusiastic.” Zara’s conceptual spine was ramrod straight, her tone careful.
“I let them think we’re dating. To explain your presence.”
“Yes. I gathered that.”
“And Kashvi—”
“Kashvi is perceptive,” Zara said, her eyes focusing on something far away as she considered. “The tether does create a magical signature. It’s understandable she would notice.”
“They’re going to keep asking questions.”
“Probably.”
“And I can’t exactly tell them you’re a demon from Hell.”
“That would be inadvisable,” Zara agreed, nodding.
They sat in silence for a moment. Ramona could hear her roommates still talking in the kitchen — muffled voices, occasional laughter.
“They’re just being overbearing. Don’t worry about any of that. I’m not…” Ramona awkwardly waved her hand between them. “I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“They’re just concerned about you,” Zara said, her voice softer now. “They want you to be happy. It’s… nice, actually. That you have people who care.”
Ramona looked at her. Zara was still sitting very straight, hands folded, carefully not looking at Ramona. But there was something in her expression — something almost wistful.
“Do you have people like that?” Ramona asked. “In Hell? A family? Friends?”
“Not really.” Zara stood up, moving back toward the chair. “Demons don’t typically form those kinds of bonds.”
“Do you have a family?”
Zara shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Aren’t demons born, like humans?” Ramona asked.
Zara shook her head. “No, we’re created through energy transfiguration. We don’t have parents in the same way a mortal would. We just… are, I suppose.”
Ramona tried to read Zara’s hardened expression. “That sounds lonely.”
“It’s efficient.” Zara stood and sat back down in the chair, the wood and plastic creaking under her. “You should sleep, Mortal. Tomorrow is another workday.” She pulled out her phone as if to signal that the conversation was over.
Ramona grabbed her spare pillow and the throw blanket from the end of her bed. She handed them to Zara, who accepted them with the same polite resignation as before.
“Thank you, Mortal.”
“You’re welcome.”
Ramona awkwardly hid in her closet as she changed into her pajamas — sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt from a marathon Simone had run years before.
She climbed into bed, pulling the covers up. The room felt strange with Zara in it. More crowded. The air seemed different, charged with something Ramona didn’t want to name. Like a tentative understanding was beginning to weave between them.
“Lights?” Zara asked.
“Oh, sure.” Ramona reached for the lamp on her nightstand. “Hey, can demons see in the dark?”
“Yes.”
“Of course you can.” Ramona turned off the light.
Darkness settled over the room like a blanket. Ramona lay there, staring at the ceiling, hyperaware of every sound. Her own breathing. The creak of the chair as Zara shifted. The distant hum of traffic outside. The building’s old pipes groaning.
This was fine. Totally normal. Just a regular Tuesday night with a demon in her bedroom.
She closed her eyes. Tried to relax. Counted backwards from one hundred.
At seventy-three, she heard it.
A sound from outside. High-pitched, eerie. Like a scream, but not quite. It started low and climbed, wavering at the end.
Ramona’s eyes snapped open. “That fucking cat.”
“You mean the fox?” Zara asked from the darkness. Her voice was calm.
“It’s just a cat.” Ramona had lived in this apartment for two years. She knew the neighborhood sounds. “There’s one that battles with the raccoons behind the building.”
“That’s not a cat.”
“I’m pretty sure I know what a cat sounds like.”