Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
Mal slouched on Ethan's couch, trying to conjure another scrying mirror from a soup bowl. Dark smoke curled from his fingers as he attempted the spell for the fifth time.
"Show me Ethan Volkov."
The water in the bowl rippled, formed a mirror, then filled with a vision of… people baking cakes. Again.
"No, no." Mal tapped the glass. "I said Ethan, not eating." The British accents continued discussing proper sponge texture. "Though that chocolate ganache does look sinful..."
He shook his head, trying to focus. One more try. He just needed to see if Ethan was doing okay at the library. Purely professional concern about his target's wellbeing. Nothing more.
"Show me?—"
The apartment door burst open. Mal dropped the bowl, barely catching it before it shattered.
"—and then he touched my collar!" Ethan practically floated through the doorway. "Can you believe it?"
"I was there." A second voice followed him in. "You don’t have to keep telling me."
The stranger stopped short at the sight of Mal. Mal recognized him from his surveillance. This was Noah, Ethan's best friend. Currently glaring at him like he was something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of a shoe.
"So." Noah crossed his arms. "You're the demon who hexed my friend."
Mal took up a defensive posture himself. "I simply gave him some magical enhancements."
"Enhanced?" Noah shot him a skeptical look. "He’s absolutely lost control of his mouth."
"I can’t believe I said that about Pride and Prejudice being a real estate romance." Ethan collapsed onto the couch beside Mal. "I was trying really hard not to speak, but it just kept coming out."
Mal shifted away from Ethan's warmth, his tail curling tighter. He hadn’t meant to remove Ethan’s filter. He’d only wanted to boost his confidence. "I might have put a little too much power into the spell."
"A little?" Noah lifted one eyebrow.
Before he could say more, though, Ethan announced some happy news.
"Kyle asked me out again!" He bounced in his seat. "He wants to take me to dinner tomorrow. He said to wear green. I don’t know if I own anything green. Can you magic me an outfit for the date?"
"He’s not a fairy godmother," Noah cut in. "He’s the demon who’s trying to steal your soul."
Mal’s gaze narrowed. This new human was annoying. "I’m not stealing anything. It's a contractual agreement."
"Right, because contracts with demons always work out so well for all involved."
"Actually," Ethan started, "in paranormal romance?—"
"Not helping." Noah shut him down. "And you." He turned to Mal. "What exactly was your plan here? Make him blurt out every thought until someone takes advantage?"
"Kyle's not taking advantage," Ethan protested, but his voice held a note of uncertainty. "You should have seen how he looked at me when I told him... well, everything. He seemed really interested, and he likes that I'm being honest," Ethan pressed on. "He said it was refreshing. And he touched my collar, and he wants to take me somewhere intimate tomorrow night, and..." He trailed off, finally catching the look on Noah's face. "What?"
"Don't you think it's strange that he ignored you for a year, then suddenly got interested when you couldn't stop complimenting him?"
Mal's chest tightened at the flicker of doubt that crossed Ethan's face.
"The spell is working as designed," Mal made himself say, but the words felt hollow. "Kyle noticed him. That's what we wanted."
"What you wanted," Noah corrected. "To fulfill your contract and claim his soul."
To Mal’s surprise, Ethan jumped in to defend him. "He didn't force me to summon him. I'm the one who stupidly tried to get Cupid but got him instead. And he's actually been really nice about everything."
"Nice?" Noah's eyebrows shot up. "He's a demon."
"Yeah, but he’s kinda bad at it." Ethan shot a sheepish glance at Mal. "Sorry, but it’s true. I mean, you tried to comfort me with ice cream from Hell last night. What kind of demon does that?"
Mal couldn’t argue with that.
Noah looked between them. "I can’t believe you're serious right now."
"Can't lie, remember?" Ethan scratched the back of his neck. "And if you don’t leave, I’ll tell you how cute your protective friend routine is."
Noah sighed. "Fine. I should get back to the library, anyway. Tell them you're not feeling well." He pointed at Mal. "But if anything happens to him..."
"Go on," Mal prompted. "How would you threaten a demon?"
Noah stood his ground. "You'd be surprised."
"Noah." Ethan's voice held barely contained laughter. "I really appreciate you trying to protect me from supernatural forces, but you should probably go before I start in on that speech about the power of friendship that’s bubbling in the back of my mind right now."
"I'm going, I'm going." Noah backed toward the door. "Just... be careful, okay?"
"I’ll be fine. Thank you."
Noah nodded at Ethan and left.
Which left Mal alone with Ethan—who immediately went to dig through his closet for anything green.
Mal watched him silently for a moment.
He should be elated that his spell had helped Ethan secure another date with his paramour, but something about the situation felt off…
Noah had claimed Kyle was taking advantage of Ethan, and Noah seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. What was more, Mal could easily see someone taking advantage of Ethan’s trusting nature.
It shouldn’t have bothered Mal—because the other thing Noah had said was also true: Mal himself was taking advantage of Ethan. Mal was only here in order to claim Ethan’s soul so he could then claim respect among his fellow demons.
He shouldn’t care whether or not Ethan got hurt in the process.
A proper demon wouldn’t.
But damn it all to hell, Mal cared. That had always been his problem.
If he was going to get Ethan’s soul, he wanted Ethan to get everything he wanted in return. He wanted Ethan to be happy for his days on earth.
To achieve that, he would have to dig a little deeper.
"So." Mal tried to keep his voice casual. "Tell me what you like about Kyle."
"Everything." Ethan pulled out a mint-colored cardigan, made a face, and tossed it aside. "His intelligence, his sophistication, the way he?—"
"No." Mal watched another rejected shirt sail past. "What makes you happy when you're with him? What do you talk about?"
Ethan's hands stilled on a hanger. The spell still working on him wouldn't let him deflect or give a surface answer.
"I..." He turned to face Mal. "We don't really talk. Yesterday at coffee he told me about his book and all this really complex shit." A small frown creased his forehead. "And I sat there feeling stupid."
"Did he ask you anything about yourself?"
Ethan opened his mouth, then closed it. He worked his jaw. "He was excited about his book deal." Ethan turned back to the closet, his movements more agitated. "Anyone would be excited about that. And today he seemed really interested in what I had to say."
"After the spell made you tell him how amazing he is."
"Why are you asking me these things?" Ethan yanked another shirt from its hanger. "Don't you want me to go on this date? Isn't that the whole point—getting me together with someone I love so you can claim my soul?"
Mal shook his head. "Do you really think this person is worthy of your love?"
"No." The answer came quickly, and it seemed to surprise not only Mal but Ethan too.
Ethan stared at the shirt in his hands, his knuckles white around the fabric. "I didn't mean to say that."
"The spell won't let you hide your feelings." Mal's voice came out softer than he intended. "Not even from yourself."
"But I've loved him for a year." Ethan's words wavered. "I've spent so much time thinking about him, watching him, hoping he'd notice me."
"That's not love." The words felt strange in Mal's mouth—a demon giving lessons about love. What was the world coming to? Still, he made himself go on. "That's... admiration, maybe. Or wanting to be noticed by someone you think matters."
"Then what is love?" Ethan turned to face him, and something in his expression made Mal's heart squeeze in his chest. "Since you seem to know so much about it."
"Love is..." He tugged at his tie, which was growing hot again. Who was he to explain love to anyone? "Love is wanting someone to be happy, even if it costs you something. It's seeing who they really are, not who you want them to be."
"How does a demon know that?"
"I'm very bad at being a demon," Mal pointed out. "As everyone keeps reminding me. If I were a good demon, I wouldn’t be telling you this. I should let you go on that date, let you lose your virginity to Kyle, and cash in on our deal."
Ethan studied him for a moment. "Then why don’t you?" His gaze slid down Mal’s body, then focused back on his face. "Why would you care what happens to me?"
Mal’s mouth went dry. "I just do."
Mal's words hung in the air between them.
Had Mal just admitted that he cared about Ethan?
Or was Ethan reading too much into their simple exchange?
His heart beat too fast for him to be reasonable.
None of this was reasonable.
He'd spent a year pining after Kyle, building elaborate fantasies about sophisticated literary discussions and meaningful glances across reading rooms. Now those dreams crumbled like dried leaves, leaving him standing in his messy bedroom with a literal demon from hell.
A demon who was looking at him with an intensity that made his skin prickle.
Mal took a step closer. Ethan's feet refused to move, his breath caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat. The demon's tail swished back and forth, betraying an agitation that didn't show on his face.
Was Mal going to kiss him?
More importantly—did Ethan want him to?
The question sent heat crawling up his neck. He didn't know. Everything felt confused and tangled, his feelings for Kyle unraveling while something new and terrifying took root in his chest. Was he just latching onto the next attractive man who showed him kindness?
Because Mal was attractive. Ethan couldn't deny that. The way his dark suit fit his shoulders, how his eyes held warmth no demon's should, the sharp line of his jaw, the flash of tiny fangs when he spoke—all of it drew Ethan's gaze like a moth to flame, making his pulse skip as their eyes met.
Mal raised his hand. Ethan's breath hitched as the demon's thumb brushed his lower lip. The touch sent tingles through his whole body, a burst of sensation that sparked down his spine and settled warm in his stomach.
Then Mal stepped back.
"There." His voice came out rough. "The spell's lifted."
"What?" Ethan touched his lips where they still tingled from Mal's touch. "That's what that was?"
"You should be able to control what you say now." Mal wouldn't meet his eyes. "No more uncomfortable truths."
But Ethan's heart still raced, and his skin still felt too warm, and he was pretty sure that had nothing to do with any spell.
His fingers brushed where Mal had touched his lip, the ghost of that contact still sparking under his skin.
"I should give you some time alone." Mal stepped back, his movements stiff. "It's been a... complicated day."
Before Ethan could find his voice, the demon vanished in a curl of dark smoke, leaving behind only the faint scent of ash and brimstone. And questions. So many questions.
Ethan sank onto his bed, surrounded by the rejected clothes he'd pulled out for tomorrow's date.
A date he wasn't sure he wanted anymore.