Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
Ethan lay in his bed, staring at the shadowed ceiling. His lips still tingled where Mal's had pressed against them. The memory played over and over: Mal's warm fingers on his jaw, the faint scent of wood smoke, the way Mal had kissed him… or had he kissed Mal?
He couldn't even say now who of them had leaned in first.
It had just felt like the right thing to do.
He pressed his fingertips to his mouth. His last kiss had been Tommy Mitchell behind the bleachers senior year. Tommy had always tasted like toothpaste, somehow.
Mal was different.
And not just because he was a demon.
A demon who had come for Ethan's soul. Why could Ethan never keep that in mind?
He rolled onto his side, pulling the blanket tighter. He should be devastated about Kyle. About losing the dream he'd nursed for months. Instead, he was straining his ears to hear if Mal might come back.
Where was he now?
Where had he gone?
Ethan had no way of contacting him, and that was the worst.
The shadows in the corner of his room shifted. His heart leapt, but it was just the neighbor's cat walking past his window.
With a groat, Ethan buried his face in his pillow.
What was he going to do?
At work the next day, Ethan shelved books on autopilot, his hands moving through familiar motions while his mind drifted back to the river, to moonlight on water…
Of course his mind had made the memory even more romantic than it had been in reality.
He shoved the book in his hands onto the shelf with too much force.
Focus. He had a job to do.
Three carts of returns waited for shelving. Dr. Wilson had asked him to update the featured romance display. And someone had left a pile of newspapers scattered across the reading area again.
He could do this. Just take it one task at a time.
"So?" Louisa from circulation materialized beside him. "How was the date? You went to Le Petit Jardin , right?"
"It was..." Ethan's head ached from lack of sleep, and he didn't want to talk about this. "It was fine."
"Just fine?" She raised an eyebrow. "That place is impossible to get into. I've been trying for weeks! And Kyle looked so handsome yesterday."
"Yeah, he..." Ethan's throat closed up. How could he explain that Kyle's handsomeness was just a mask? That he'd only gotten into the restaurant because he'd readily embraced dealing with a demon? "Sorry," Ethan said. "I need to finish this cart."
He fled to the philosophy section, where at least the dusty tomes on metaphysics wouldn't ask him about Kyle. But even Kant couldn't distract him from replaying every moment of last night. The date and everything that had happened after.
He'd sort of hoped that Mal would swing by his apartment before Ethan had to work so they could talk, but that hadn't happened.
Would the demon show up after work?
Or would Ethan never see him again unless he decided to do something that would force Mal to come and collect his soul?
Question after question and no answers in sight.
By the time his break rolled around, Ethan's nerves were frayed raw.
He needed to talk to someone, so he decided to go and find Noah.
As usual, his best friend hung around in the children's section. Today he was arranging a display of dragon-themed picture books.
"Hey." Ethan approached him. "Got a minute?"
Noah glanced at him. "Here to tell me about your date last night?"
"There isn't much to tell." Ethan sank into one of the tiny chairs at the reading table. "Kyle was..." His fingers traced the edge of the table.
"A pretentious ass?"
Ethan shot his friend a sharp look.
"Sorry," Noah said, not sounding sorry. "Go on."
Ethan blew out a breath. How could he speak against Noah now when Noah was right ? "He made a deal with a demon."
"What?" Noah whipped around to him so quickly he nearly toppled over the display. "Like your deal?"
"Different demon. Raviel." The name felt bitter on Ethan's tongue. "He traded his soul for literary success."
"Of fucking course he did."
"He thinks I'm in a cult for trying to warn him." Ethan huffed. "Said he'd 'sign up' for trading his soul if it meant getting published."
Noah studied him. "You don't seem as devastated as I'd expect."
"And you don't seem surprised. Was I blind not to see this in him?"
"You never saw Kyle the way he was. I don't think you wanted to."
Ethan grimaced, but he couldn't deny that there was some truth to what his friend was telling him.
"Be that as it may," Noah continued. "How do we get rid of all these demons that are popping up?"
Ethan scratched the back of his neck. "Um…" This was going to be an awkward conversation.
"What?"
"There's something else I need to tell you."
Noah studied him, and then he glanced around the children's section. It was devoid of patrons, as was usual for this time of day, but still, Noah seemed to want to move the conversation somewhere else.
"Let's step outside a minute," he suggested.
They retreated to the staff entrance at the back of the library, where a chill breeze cooled the heat that was starting to rise into Ethan's cheeks again at the thought of admitting to Noah what he'd done.
"Alright," Noah closed the door behind them, "what else happened?"
"I kissed Mal." The words tumbled out. "Or he kissed me. I'm not really sure who started it."
"You kissed your demon?"
"He's not my demon." But something possessive curled in Ethan's chest at the words. "It just happened. After the disaster with Kyle, we were sitting by the river, and..."
"And?"
"And he disappeared." Ethan chewed his bottom lip. "Said demons destroy beautiful things and vanished into shadows."
Noah leaned against the brick wall. "Let me get this straight. You discovered Kyle sold his soul, dumped him, then made out with your own personal demon?"
"It wasn't like that," Ethan protested.
"Then what was it like? Enlighten me."
"Kyle and I were already over before the kiss happened. The demon deal just confirmed what I'd been trying not to see." Ethan kicked at a pebble. "And Mal... he was just trying to comfort me."
"By kissing you?"
"No, by being there. By listening. By..." Ethan struggled to put it into words. "He told me the truth about our contract when any other demon would have lied. He gave me a choice about what happens to my soul."
"But he still wants to collect."
"That's just the thing. I don't think he does. If that was what he wanted, he wouldn't let me define the terms of our contract."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Our deal is that… um…" Damn it, how could Ethan say this with a straight face? "He gets my soul if I lose my virginity to the man I love."
Noah stared at him. " That's what you sold your soul for? Sex?"
"Not sex! The sex isn't the important part!"
Noah continued to stare at him, and Ethan couldn't blame him.
"Yes, I want to lose my virginity," Ethan tried to explain, face burning, "but the important part is that I want to give it to someone I love."
"I suppose that is marginally better," Noah allowed. "But you're still screwed."
"Not as badly screwed as I could be," Ethan argued. "I asked Mal what exactly would count as 'losing my virginity' to satisfy our deal and he said he'd let me choose what it means to me."
This new information seemed to throw Noah for a loop. "Why would he do that?"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Ethan said. "He's different. Any other demon would have used the contract's vagueness to claim my soul as quickly as possible. But Mal..." He trailed off, remembering the way Mal had looked at him by the river, the raw honesty in his voice. "He told me what other demons would do, and then he chose to give me control instead."
"Maybe that's part of his plan," Noah suggested. "Get you to trust him."
"You don't understand." Ethan pushed away from the wall. "He's terrible at being a demon. He created a support group for gamblers. He gives safety advice to sex workers. And last night..." His voice softened. "Last night, he said I was worth protecting."
"From himself?"
"From Hell." Ethan wrapped his arms around himself. "He's going to get in trouble for not collecting my soul, Noah. Real trouble. But he still told me the truth."
Noah studied him for a long moment. "Are you falling for someone out of reach again?"
"No, I'm..." Ethan paused.
Crap.
Was Noah right?
"Just give yourself some time to process before you jump into the next thing, okay?" Noah patted Ethan's shoulder.
Ethan made himself nod.
Time to process. Right.
When his break was over, Ethan attacked his work with forced focus. Maybe there was something to what Noah had said; he had a pattern. He'd fantasized about a hot teacher in high school, then about his creative writing professor, now Kyle... He really liked wanting what he couldn't have.
Safe, harmless crushes.
No wonder he was still a virgin.
Sighing, he made himself refocus on the books he was shelving.
The rest of his shift crawled by. When he finally got home, his apartment felt emptier than usual. No trace of brimstone in the air. No demon sprawled on his couch complaining about Hell's filing system.
That was perfect, wasn't it?
Mal was giving him time to think.
Just what Noah had advised.
But Ethan didn't want time to think. He wanted to talk to Mal.
He wanted to do more than talk.
Ethan paced. Made tea. Tried to read. Checked his phone even though he knew demons didn't text. Mal didn't have a phone. They didn't even have Netflix in Hell.
Or decent coffee.
Ethan made coffee. Just in case Mal showed up and wanted some.
A horrible thought occurred to him. What if something had happened to Mal? What if Hell found out about the kiss? What if they were torturing him right now?
His gaze drifted to the kitchen cabinet where he'd stored the remnants of his failed summoning attempt. The coriander. The pink beads. The book...
Could he summon Mal to the apartment again?
Before he could talk himself out of it, Ethan pulled out everything he needed. His hands shook slightly as he set the items on the couch table, just as he'd done that night.
He was probably being dumb. But if Mal was in trouble because of him...
He'd just opened the spell book when shadows gathered in his peripheral vision.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Mal's voice carried an edge Ethan had never heard before. He spun around to find the demon standing in his living room, suit jacket wrinkled.
"You're okay!" The relief in Ethan's voice was embarrassingly obvious.
"And you," Mal stalked forward, "were about to do something incredibly stupid." He snatched the book out of Ethan's hands. "Do you have any idea what could have happened? You got lucky with me. The next demon you summon might not be so..." He trailed off, jaw clenching.
"Incompetent?" Ethan supplied.
"I was going to say 'lenient.'" Mal's tail lashed behind him. "Most demons would see your soul as a prize to be claimed by any means necessary."
"I was worried about you."
"Worried about—" Mal broke off with a strangled sound. "I'm a demon, Ethan. You don't need to worry about me."
"Well, someone should!" Ethan stepped closer, anger pushing through his relief. "You disappeared. You didn't come back. What was I supposed to think?"
"You were supposed to think good riddance!" Mal's fingers tightened on the book. "You were supposed to be glad the demon who's trying to collect your soul was gone."
"Well, I wasn't." Ethan pouted.
Mal seemed unable to find a response to that, so Ethan pressed his advantage.
"I spent all day wondering if you were in trouble because of me. If Hell found out about..." His face warmed at the memory. "About what happened."
"So your solution was to risk summoning another demon?" Mal shook his head in concerned disbelief. "Do you have any idea how hard Raviel is salivating at the idea of getting his grabby hands on your soul?"
"But my contract is with you ."
"And many demons will jump at any chance to dispute that."
"What do you mean, dispute it?" Ethan's stomach dropped.
"Hell runs on contracts and loopholes." Mal's tail curled in agitation. "If another demon can prove I'm... compromised... they could challenge my claim."
"Compromised?" The word hung in the air between them.
Mal wouldn't meet his eyes. "They have rules about demons getting too close to their prey."
"Is that what I am? Your prey?"
"You know you're not." Mal's voice dropped so low Ethan barely caught the words. "That's the whole problem."
The admission made Ethan's heart speed up. He took another step closer, close enough now to catch that hint of wood smoke. "So what do we do?"
"We?" Mal's head snapped up. "There is no 'we', Ethan. There can't be."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm a demon!"
"You keep saying that like it explains everything."
"Because it should!" Mal raked a hand through his hair, messing it up further. "Demons don't get happy endings. We definitely don't get them with pure-souled humans who read romance novels and care too much about everyone and make bad decisions because they're worried about people they shouldn't be worried about!"
"Is there a rule about that?" Ethan's pulse rushed in his ears. If he inched just a little closer, he could kiss Mal again.
And Mal looked at him as if he was having the same thought.
But then Mal stepped back. "I'm making it a rule. I'm not corrupting you."
Ethan's heart squeezed painfully. So this was what it felt like to be rejected.
This was the pain he'd always tried to avoid by never making a move.
It was terrible.
He wrapped his arms around himself to hold the hurt inside.
"I'm so sorry." Mal's shoulders slumped. "I should never have kissed you, but that's what I do, I fuck things up wherever I go."
"Don't." Ethan's voice came out sharper than he intended. "Don't apologize for the kiss. Just... don't disappear again. Even if you don't want..." His voice caught. He swallowed and tried again. "Even if you don't want what I want, we're still in this mess together. And I'd rather have you here as..." What? A roommate? "...as whatever we are, than wonder if you're in trouble because of me. Wouldn't you rather be here than in Hell?" Awkwardly, Ethan gestured toward the kitchen. "I made coffee for you."
"You did?" Mal sniffed the air. "I thought something smelled good." A faint smile. "But Ethan, I can't stay here indefinitely."
"Don't you have to watch over me until I lose my virginity?"
"I suppose that's true," Mal allowed.
Ethan felt a shiver of relief. "Then we've got plenty of time."
Mal studied him as if he wanted to argue, as if he wanted to start another discussion about how wrong all of this was, but in the end, he only shook his head. "I hope you know what you're doing because I don't."
"It's okay! It'll be okay." With his heart drumming furiously to the beat of hope, Ethan sauntered into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee for his demon. "You'll see, we'll be fine."
"You'll be turning Hell into your enemy," Mal warned.
"Sounds to me like Hell should be everyone's enemy." He offered the mug to Mal. "A place without Netflix and sugary coffee? Come on." He tried to joke, but Mal looked at him seriously.
"Don't take this lightly."
"I won't," Ethan promised, straightening. "And I won't attempt any more summonings, I promise. Just don't run away again." Because Ethan was done running himself. He'd caught feelings, and this time, he would face them head-on.
Mal wrapped his hands around the coffee mug, and for a moment, they stood in silence as steam curled between them.
"Alright," Mal said finally. "I'll stay." He took a careful sip, then added, "But we need to be smart about this."
Ethan exhaled a long breath. Something inside his chest loosened. "I can be smart. I'm a librarian, after all."
Mal's lips twitched, but his gaze remained serious. "Hell has eyes everywhere."
"Then we'll give them something boring to look at." Ethan raised his chin, projecting more confidence than he felt. Because this— having Mal here, keeping him close—felt like the first right decision he'd made since finding that spell book.