Chapter 25
Seren
There’s a demon in my parents’ house.
There’s a big, handsome, very confused-looking demon in my parents’ house, currently taking up at least half the space in the small front room.
This is fine.
This is chill.
It’s totally okay and normal that I brought a demon to the human realm and am currently showing him around my childhood home.
Callum inhales. “Witches live here?”
A startled laugh breaks in my chest. “What makes you think that?”
“This place smells like magick.”
I sniff. “Huh. Never noticed. Guess your nose is better than mine.”
I only catch a second of his satisfied smirk before I turn and lead him to the stairs up to the second floor.
“And yes, to answer your question,” I call back over my shoulder as he follows me. “Witches live here. I live here, actually. Well, sometimes.”
Callum hums as he processes that, but doesn’t offer any further comment as we pass through the second-floor landing and reach the spiral stairs.
It’s a bit of an ordeal for him to navigate his way up with his big wings tucked in tight, but he manages, and he fills this space, too.
Way up here in my bedroom, he looms even larger with the low, slanted ceilings and the cozy, if slightly cramped, quarters.
Callum inhales deeply. “Your room?”
“Smells like me?”
He nods. “Like your magick. And your scent. It’s… wonderful.”
Color creeps up my cheeks, and I hope it’s too dark for him to see it.
I look at him, then look away, shift from one foot to the other, raise a hand to smooth out my hair, then drop it when I realize how awkward the gesture looks.
Goddess, when did I become such a dork?
There’s nothing to be nervous about.
This is… fine.
Just fine.
But Callum’s not, and that’s the whole reason we’re here. Gathering my courage, I take a step closer to him.
I run my fingertips over the worn leather of his armor. It’s smooth, supple, expertly crafted and exquisitely tailored to his frame.
“This has got to go.”
“What?”
“The armor. I know you’re bruised under there. Let’s see it.”
Callum’s face goes entirely blank.
“Off,” I tell him, and arch a brow when he doesn’t obey right away. “I’ve got something that might help those bruises heal faster.”
“Another of your sister’s concoctions?” he asks, and I nod. He finally starts moving, shedding the intricate leather armor that sculpts against his torso and around his wings.
As he removes each piece, I take it from him and lay it out on the bed. It gives me something to focus on other than the fact that with each piece, Callum is more bare.
My face heats as he takes off his bracers and exposes his thick forearms, and I’m positively sweating by the time he maneuvers the main plating around his chest and off over his wings.
It leaves him in nothing more than his linen undershirt and trousers.
He pauses again, hands hovering near the hem of his shirt where it’s tucked into his pants.
“This, too?”
“That, too,” I tell him, mouth dry.
Callum is a fucking work of art.
It’s all I can think as he tugs his shirt up and off. Planes of hardened abdominals and firm pecs. Wide shoulders and thick biceps.
Did I think his armor was expertly crafted?
Because it’s nothing compared to… this. Him. Sculpted like the hand of some god or goddess reached right down and formed him out of clay.
I’m mesmerized. Dumbstruck. Left standing and staring at him like a horny idiot.
At least until he turns.
There, right in the middle of his back, is a huge, ugly bruise.
A bruise he got keeping me from almost getting killed in Faerie—again.
“One second,” I mutter and retreat into the Jack-and-Jill bath between my room and Soleil’s. I find what I’m looking for under the sink and return to him.
Only for my focus to stutter again.
Goddess, what a sight.
My demon mate—a male from an entirely different realm—standing in the middle of my childhood bedroom, studying the wall of photos beside the door.
He glances over when he notices me standing there, and the corner of his lip twitches despite the pain he must feel from his injuries.
“These are incredibly lifelike renderings,” he says, and I laugh softly.
“Photographs,” I explain, joining him to look at them. “It’s a way to capture a moment. An image taken from life.”
I remove the lid from the jar of ointment and dip my fingers in. I lift them to his bruise, eyes darting to his for confirmation.
Callum nods, almost imperceptibly.
His skin is so warm beneath my hand.
Warm enough that if he were a human, I’d be worried he was running a fever.
His muscles twitch when I touch him, and I murmur an apology as I apply the ointment.
“You don’t need to apologize, star. Not for helping me.”
Unable to come up with a reply to that, I nod and keep working, massaging the thick paste over the bruise until it’s completely covered. Callum endures it stoically, at least until I’m done.
He lets out a low hum. “That’s incredible. You witches could teach our healers a thing or two.”
“I think Soleil already is,” I mutter as I close the jar and set it aside. “She got drafted in to help when my friend Joan was injured in the demon realm. She worked with a healer… Vayla, I think it was? The two of them saved her.”
“I know Vayla. One of the best healers our realm has to offer.”
I inspect his bruise again and find it’s already fading. “It’ll probably take a day or two to go away completely, but you should be all set.”
He turns.
We’re face to face. Close. Too close. All the broad, muscled planes of his chest are close enough for me to lean in and run my lips over, my tongue, my teeth, just to see if he’s delicious as I think he will be.
Being this close to him is dangerous.
It reminds me just how appealing my stubborn, handsome, sexy mate really is.
Even though we kissed earlier, even though we had that charged conversation in the car, I don’t know what the rules are here.
I don’t know what’s allowed in good fun and what’s going to come across as me accepting… everything. The whole mate thing and all that might entail.
Just because I’m ready to jump Callum’s bones doesn’t mean I’m ready to sign up for a lifetime together, and I don’t want to give him the wrong idea.
So, practical seems best.
We’ll focus on the hunt, on finding the heart.
And if anything else happens along the way… well.
Not much we can do about that, can we?
“We need to get you something that can cover… all of this,” I say, and Callum glances down at himself.
“All of what?”
“All of you. Like I said, humans would absolutely lose their shit to see a demon walking amongst them.”
“And we’re going to be walking amongst many humans?”
“Probably. I haven’t exactly figured out where we’re going yet, but it’s a pretty good bet we won’t be entirely alone.”
“So what do we do about that?”
“Have you heard about glamour magick?” He shakes his head. “It’s a form of disguise, spells that can change your appearance entirely.”
“Like your invisibility trick back in Faerie?”
I grin at his exasperated tone. “Kind of, but this one will make you look human. You’ll still look mostly like yourself, just without the wings, tail, horns, all of that.”
Callum gets a glint in his eyes. Something teasing, but with a sharper edge. It makes heat coil low in my belly, flames that erupt when he whips his tail out and wraps it around my waist, pulling me into him.
“I got the impression you liked… all of that.” He murmurs the words into the side of my neck as he leans in to press his lips there, as his fangs drag against my skin, as that damned tail squeezes tighter.
I brace my hands on his chest and put a little breathing room between us. “It doesn’t matter what I like, as long as we can get to the next clue or whatever it is we’re looking for here.”
Again, that glint sparkles with wicked, wicked knowing, but he lets me go.
Callum spreads his arms wide on either side of him. “Alright, cast your glamour, then.”
I chuckle and raise a hand to touch his shoulder, the curve of his wing. He gasps when my fingers brush against the leathery black skin, like it’s sensitive to the touch.
Interesting.
I’ll save that little detail for later.
“As much as I enjoy casting spells on you, this one needs a more talented hand than mine. I can cast a small, temporary glamour, but we’re going to need something a little more durable.”
“Oh? And where would we find that?”
“I can call in a favor,” I say with more confidence than I feel, mind already racing through my mental list of witches.
One of them will be able and willing to help. Probably.
If not… we’ll figure out something else. I’m nothing if not resourceful enough to think myself out of a corner.
“Let me just grab a few things and we can go,” I say, dumping some of my pack’s contents on the bed and heading for my dresser.
Callum, unfortunately, puts his shirt back on and settles himself on the lavender armchair in the corner to watch me while I work. I have to bite back a laugh at how absolutely absurd he looks sitting on the dainty, girly piece of furniture.
After I’ve restocked a few spells, personal items, and clothing, I gesture at Callum to follow me. We descend the spiral staircase, the main stair down to the ground floor.
“We’ll grab a quick snack for the road,” I say, heading for the kitchen.
It’s a mistake.
Maybe we could have made a successful exit if I hadn’t let my rumbling stomach do my thinking for me.
But as soon as I’ve grabbed what I needed from the fridge and cupboard, the kitchen lights flick on, illuminating two people who I really, really hoped weren’t going to be here tonight.
Dad looks surprised, but mom just smiles, puts her hands on her hips, and shakes her head with a soft laugh.
“Seren, darling, you really should give us a heads-up before you bring any guests over.”