Chapter 25 Aurelie
Aurelie
Despite the furious tone in Des’s voice, he had the decency to shield Aurelie’s view of Willoughby’s body as he escorted her
down the steps of Easton Hall. Even still, he couldn’t shield her from the stench of his innards, or the sight of blood in
the snow. She had worn a scarf around her neck to cover her wound, and she ducked her face into it now, obscuring what she
could, though she knew she’d never recover from the guilt of what she’d done.
Des had his sword in one hand, the other slung around Aurelie’s waist as he hurried her toward the gate. The demon was still
on campus, but she wasn’t afraid of it attacking her. Not when it had the opportunity before and went after Willoughby.
When she’d opened the door to her lab with an iron doorstop in one hand and a bag of salt in the other, she’d screamed at
the sight. Not only of the demon itself, which was a squat, hunched horror that reminded her of the gargoyles on the clock
tower, but also of the absolute destruction it had wrought. There was broken glass everywhere. Books and papers were scattered
across the floor, and trampled herbs and flowers littered it like faded confetti. The demon was on her desk, rummaging around
as though searching for something, and its red eyes had fixed on her the moment she entered.
But rather than come for her, it had turned its head at some sound Aurelie couldn’t hear, its focus on something outside the little window. Her stomach dropped when she heard Willoughby’s familiar whistle.
She flew at the demon the same moment it leapt for her window. She managed to grab one of its muscular legs, but it kicked
out at her as it punched through the glass, catching her in the chest with its talons. She reeled back at the force of the
kick, not realizing at first that it had torn through her dress before it disappeared through the window into the snow. By
the time she scrambled onto her desk, one hand pressed to her wound, Willoughby was already screaming.
She’d never erase that sound from her head, she thought as fresh tears stung her eyes. They’d reached the gates, and Des ushered
her through with the key she realized now was the one she’d lost the night of the natia attack. All this time, he’d kept it, and for what? Why had he come here tonight? Was it mere coincidence that a demon attack
occurred when he was close by, or was it as she’d thought before, that his presence was also part of the equation? If she could have taken the time to think, she knew she could make sense of all this
chaos. But Des was pressing her forward, it was snowing again, and Aurelie could feel the wound in her chest seeping through
the bandage.
“Stop,” she said finally, when she felt she might faint. “I need to rest.”
“There’s no time to rest. Not while a demon is loose on the campus.”
“All right. I need time to think. Surely even demon hunters take a moment to strategize. Or do you just rush in without thinking every time?”
His lip raised in a snarl, but he allowed her to sit down on a bench beneath a streetlamp. She checked under her scarf to be sure the wound wasn’t bleeding onto her coat. “What do you need to think about?” he asked. “The story you’re going to tell the commander?”
He wasn’t entirely wrong, but she felt as though there were puzzle pieces jumbling about in her head, and she needed to fit
them together to make sense of all this, just like the pieces of the blasted portal. “Can I at least explain where that demon
came from?”
“I’m assuming it’s the one that was living in your laboratory,” he said.
Aurelie shook her head, horrified at the thought. “No. At least, Mephisto isn’t the one who did this. But it was its seed
that produced the demon that killed Willoughby.”
“What is Mephisto?”
“Mephisto is the demon you saw in my lab, but it’s tiny and wouldn’t hurt anything larger than a cockroach.” Aurelie tilted
her head up to look at Des, who was standing in front of her, all traces of the gentle man who had cleaned her wound gone.
“I have so much to explain, but I can’t do it out here where I’m frozen and bleeding.” Indeed, her teeth were chattering audibly,
and it was a challenge even to hold still.
“Where do you propose we go?” he asked, his voice strained. She knew he was desperate to get back to the Iron Fortress, to
pass her off to someone else. But she couldn’t let him do that. Not until he knew the risk to her uncle.
“A pub, a café. Anywhere loud enough for us to speak without being overheard.”
Des glanced up the street to a pub. “Fine. You have thirty minutes.”
They weren’t quite as inconspicuous as Aurelie had hoped. It wasn’t entirely Des’s fault that he was the largest man in every room he entered, or even that he was wearing his Iron Guard uniform. But he could have at least attempted not to look so angry all the time.
They managed to squeeze onto the end of a long bench side by side, with Aurelie pressed between Des and a drunken man who
kept spilling his beer into Aurelie’s lap. Eventually, Des’s furious glares cut through the man’s haze, and he stumbled off
somewhere, giving them slightly more room to themselves.
“We should order something,” Aurelie said.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Fine.” She caught the attention of a serving girl, who batted her eyelashes prettily at an oblivious Des.
“Can I get you anything?” she asked him, ignoring Aurelie entirely.
“Two coffees, please,” Aurelie said. “And a plate of whatever greasy food you serve here.” She noticed Des staring at her.
“What? I haven’t eaten in hours.”
The serving girl rolled her eyes as she walked away. Aurelie shrugged out of her coat and Des took it from her without a word.
She kept the scarf around her neck, though it was hotter than a witch’s cauldron in there. The wound on her chest ached, and
she still hadn’t figured out how she was going to convince Des not to turn her in.
“Start talking,” Des said when their coffee arrived.
Aurelie noted with disgust that hers had been diluted with milk and sugar. She swapped it for Des’s black coffee silently
and ignored his arched brow. “I made Mephisto by accident when I was a child,” she began, but he stopped her with a look.
“What?”
“I don’t have time for your life story. Quit stalling.”
“It’s relevant,” she hissed. “Now be quiet and let me speak.” She hadn’t meant to be quite so bossy, but sheer agony was wreaking havoc on her self-control, always in short supply in Des’s presence anyhow.
As Aurelie launched into the story of Mephisto’s creation, then her history of inventing, Des tried to cut her off several times.
But the words were spilling out of her now, and she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to.
They were surrounded by people, but they’d all eventually lost interest in the demon hunter and his companion.
The more she spoke, the more riveted Des became, his coffee untouched.
When she finally reached the part about Everard, he stopped her with a hand on her thigh. The unexpected contact made her flinch.
“What?” she asked, then followed his gaze to the door. Aurelie felt herself blanch when she realized that the man himself
had just entered the pub. It couldn’t be a coincidence. “What’s he doing here?” she whispered, unconsciously shrinking closer
to Des. Everard would think she had gone to the authorities, she realized. She couldn’t let him see her with Des.
Without thinking, she pulled her scarf over her hair and scrambled off the bench. They were in the back of the pub, giving
her only a precious few moments to leave unnoticed.
“Where are you going?” Des asked, but she’d already donned her coat and was darting for the back door.
The cold night air sobered her instantly. She let out a strangled gasp when she saw Kobal’s silhouette skulking down the street.
Before she could back into the pub, she felt Des’s presence behind her.
“That’s the demon that killed Barley,” Des whispered, sending a shiver up Aurelie’s spine.
“It’s Everard’s thrall,” she whispered back. “He must have posted it back here in case I tried to leave.” She turned to face him. “We can’t be seen together, Des. He can’t know I told you the truth, or he’ll kill my uncle.”
“Your uncle?”
She hadn’t gotten to Leo yet, hadn’t explained that she was being blackmailed to finish an invention. “Just listen to me.
You have to go back inside. I’ll talk to Everard, throw him off my scent for a few minutes.”
“I’m not leaving you alone with that monster.”
She wasn’t sure if he meant Kobal or Everard, and she felt a strange surge of warmth even as she wanted to throttle him for
not listening to her. When the demon turned back toward them, she turned and shoved him into the shadow of the doorway. He
must not have been expecting it, because he grabbed her as he stumbled back.
Once again, she found herself pressed against him. She looked up. The confusion on his face was bizarrely endearing. “Just
stay here.”
Aurelie didn’t wait for a response before she made her way into the alley behind the pub. Kobal turned instantly, scenting
the air, and began to trot toward her. She walked out to meet it, anything to get it away from where Des was hiding.
She knew it wasn’t going to kill her, but Des didn’t. She could practically feel him tensing behind her, preparing to follow.
But Everard must have been alerted the moment Kobal scented her, because he came around the side of the building just seconds
later.
“What are you doing here?” Everard demanded. Aurelie fought the urge to look toward Des, to make sure he was properly hidden.
“I came for dinner,” she said, taking a few more steps down the alley away from Des.
“Dinner? Does that mean you’ve finished your work?”
“Not yet,” she said. “But I still need to eat. My uncle’s staff left for Yule. There’s nothing edible at his cottage.”
“If you’re not finished, how did you summon the demon?”
Aurelie’s brain scrambled to understand. “You know about the demon?”
Everard, perhaps realizing that he’d said too much, grabbed her by the injured shoulder. Aurelie cried out in pain, earning
a strange look from Everard.
“It wounded you?” he asked.
Why was this surprising to him? What link could Everard have to these creatures, that he knew when they were summoned? “Not
on purpose,” Aurelie said. “I don’t think so, anyhow. I was trying to stop it from going after the guard.”
Everard swore under his breath. “All right. You’ll need to come with me.”
“What? Why?” This time, Aurelie couldn’t keep her eyes from darting to the pub. Everard followed her gaze, but he must have
assumed she was only searching for the safety of other people, because he didn’t pursue it.
“Demons often have low levels of venom in their teeth and claws, and only I have the antivenom to treat it.”
Perhaps that explained why the wound was throbbing so badly. It hadn’t been that deep, though she’d noticed angry red streaks
radiating from it when she changed earlier. “Can’t you bring it to me?” she asked, thinking that Des was never going to allow
her to leave with Everard. Not when he was planning to turn her in.
“There’s no time for that. You’re small. The venom will work quickly on you.” Without waiting for her response, he placed his hand on the small of her back and began pressing her away from the pub. Away from Des.
Aurelie had no choice but to go with him. Kobal had moved past them toward the pub, still sniffing the air, and Aurelie was
afraid it had picked up Des’s scent. Without thought, she pitched herself forward as though she’d stumbled and collapsed into
the snow, landing on her bad shoulder and sending shooting pains throughout her chest.
“Foolish girl,” Everard muttered. He scooped her up, and despite the fact that she was dizzy from the pain in her shoulder,
Aurelie couldn’t help noticing how rough he was compared to Des, despite not being as strong. Which meant Des must have taken
extra care with her.
The thought warmed her, even as her vision faded to black.