Chapter 8 FriendshipSomething Like It
FRIENDSHIP OR SOMETHING LIKE IT
Kat
It would have been easy to keep pace with Alamar if Kat’s head didn’t ache, but the demon’s middling strides felt massive as they wound their way through Heck. Kat kept her mouth shut, but questions filled her mind anyway until they finally reached the sanctuary of the post.
As soon as the door was closed on the sounds of the city, Kat threw off her hood. “She’s going to be okay there, isn’t she?”
Alamar sighed, going right to the counter to flick through the stacks of parchment she’d abandoned in their rush to leave. “Yes.” She wasn’t very convincing.
“But shouldn’t she be with us?”
“Maybe if we had another set of hands to tend to her, but between the two of us, there’s too much work to do.”
Kat winced and rubbed her temple. Work. Right. “Oh, gods, the deliveries.”
“I’ll be handling those, but you’ll have to take the counter during the day while sorting. Not to worry: we’ve got a bell around here somewhere.”
Kat’s stomach turned over, and then the guilt came roiling right after.
What was she thinking—she shouldn’t be worried about talking to patrons when it was Brioni who had just been attacked.
Kat thought she’d been lucky to not get caught by Brioni when she returned so late from her “date” because her workmate would undoubtedly have had a load of prying questions.
But it turned out Brioni wasn’t sleeping that night—she was in the infirmary.
And worse, now she was bedridden in a big barn on the far side of town filled with terrifying beasts and an even more terrifying demon.
“Do you really think Brioni’s going to be all right though?”
The demon’s head lifted from her ledger, gaze narrowed like Kat had just appeared there before her.
Alamar rarely did one thing at a time, and even when it looked like she was single-tasking, it was certain there were at least two other projects on her mind.
But she put down her quill, and she shut the ledger.
“Yes. I really do think our Brioni is going to be all right.” Crinkles around her eyes deepened as she offered Kat a genuine smile. “Though I hate to admit it.”
Kat felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t know why. The confusion was likely plain on her face because Alamar chuckled.
“I’ve never spoken at length to Ragnar before.
I’ve only seen him utterly fail at anything like communication from afar, but it’s clear that he thinks of Brioni as…
well, he likes her—that’s for certain. And Bri is just smitten enough to stick around while he bumbles through figuring out how to express affection. He won’t hurt her, Kat. Trust me.”
Alamar wouldn’t know the specifics, but readers would: Ragnar would never hurt Brioni—that is, unless she asked nicely.
Ragnar hadn’t been very good at talking, on that Alamar had been totally correct.
Kat might have felt an affinity for his awkwardness if he weren’t so huge, but Kat had found herself cowering in the corner of his loft, clutching a bag of those yivie tarts she knew Bri liked.
The hulking demon expressed through grunts and growls that it was his fault Brioni had been injured.
Kat assumed the worst until Brioni launched into a horrific description of a six-legged monster that had sliced her open in the woods.
Ragnar assumed responsibility for Brioni’s mending since he insisted he put her in harm’s way.
That, at least, Kat could understand. She might not have used sorcery to hurt Kaly or colluded to sell her off, but Kat felt responsible for the kidnapping anyway and intended to set things right because she loved her sister and… she loved her sister.
Did Ragnar love Brioni? Was it even possible? It hadn’t been very long, and Brioni…well, she probably fell in love easier than falling off a slick roof in winter, but was it all real?
“Alamar, can I ask you a…a personal question?”
“Can you?” Alamar lifted her dark brows then snickered as she leaned fully on the counter, listening. “I would welcome it, Kat.”
The human chewed her lip, hugging arms around her middle as she paced the post’s entry. “Do you have a soulbond?”
“Where did you hear a word like that?”
“Around,” she lied, spine stiffening.
“Well, the answer is no, I don’t. And before you ask, I don’t want one either. Not that I think there’s anything wrong with them; romantic love just isn’t for me.”
Kat felt her face redden, but she wandered up to the counter anyway, refusing to drop the conversation in spite of her strangling anxiety. “So soulbonds aren’t that important?”
“Oh, no, they definitely are.” She blew out a big breath.
“So important some demons have two or three, though that’s not terribly common.
When a demon starts to feel the pull of their bond, everything changes for them.
Their whole world centers around the other end of that invisible tether.
That’s why I’m happy taking care of those who come here to work instead. ”
Kat tipped her head, frowning. “There wasn’t anyone here when Bri and I arrived.”
“That’s because you came at exactly the right time.
Before you, I had three demons under my horns, and before them I had a set of twins, and before them four boys—gods, they were a handful.
But the post is a transition job for most, thankfully.
I take in a lot of youngsters. They stay for as long as they need, until they find where their passions truly lie.
The work’s perfect, if you think about it—making deliveries and running the desk lets you observe a lot of occupations and meet a lot of demons. ” She looked poignantly at Kat.
And Kat hated it, dropping her gaze to the floor. She contemplated blurting out the truth about Azrion then, about the contract, the money, everything, but instead she just gnawed harder on her lip.
“You’re still worried Brioni’s going to be hurt?” Alamar asked quietly.
Kat nodded because it was true, and it was more than that: she was worried about all of them and everything because she was always worried.
She knew her sister could hold her own, but she hadn’t fought fucking monsters before, and Kat was trying to convince her to stay. What the fuck was she thinking?
“Like I said, Kat: the lot of you showed up at exactly the right time.” Alamar reached across the counter and pat her shoulder. “You’ll always have a place here—all of you will, no matter what happens.”
Kat stared at the crook of Azrion’s arm. It was normal—the way it bent, the way his sleeve hung, the way he held it out for her to take—and yet it was terrifying.
“You’re meant to place one hand here and the other just there,” he said in that way of his that made even the most impossible of things sound easy, which this was—or it would be for someone used to human touch, demon touch notwithstanding.
Kat didn’t move. She meant to, but it just didn’t happen.
“Allow me.” Azrion took her hand and wrapped it under his elbow and then placed the other on top. “There. See?”
She tried to return the grin he was giving her, so wide and amiable, but her face felt funny and stiff as her lips peeled back.
“You must relax,” he said but with no urgency. There was pity laced into his words instead, and that inspired anger, which ended up doing the trick.
Kat huffed, rolled her eyes, and her shoulders loosened just enough to make Azrion compliment her newfound relief. Then they were walking down the busy streets of Heck like a real couple.
Oh, gods, my hood.
She reached back but didn’t find it or the cloak it was attached to. She never left the post without it, but Azrion had been such a whirlwind of “darlings” and “I missed yous” when he showed up at closing time that she just wanted to push him out the door and get their date over with.
Date. Shit. Not again.
Hoodless, Kat ducked her head and eased sideways toward the only other barrier she had: a demon.
Azrion made a happy sound. “That’s it. Snuggle as close as you’d like, darling.”
Kat flashed him her least snuggly glare.
She felt his chuckle more than heard it then.
It vibrated down through his arm, her body close enough to feel more than just that spark that was still lingering between them.
It had calmed but remained buzzing like the portal chamber at the post, some kind of weird anticipatory magic that could spring to life at any moment.
“Good evening, Calran!” Azrion called too loudly, and Kat might have died right there on the street if she thought it wouldn’t draw even more attention than the demon was already drumming up.
He waved at another pale-colored demon dressed in an ornate, frilly tunic and pants at least one size too small.
“Az! Where have you been?” was shouted back as Azrion guided her across the road toward a teal-painted shop. Curtains blocked whatever was inside, only a single shoe on a platform in one window and a goblet displayed in the other.
“Oh, here and there but mostly basking in the presence of my new mate.” Azrion tugged Kat through the door that the other demon held open.
His new mate? Who is—oh, shit, that’s me.
Kat trained her face to remain neutral, replacing her racing thoughts with what she could identify in the shop, a trick she’d learned on the rare outing to Ankerick’s busiest markets.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much, but then the disorientation of a wide open space with every surface painted white was surprisingly helpful.
There were no shelves or racks, but podiums dotted the floor, and each was topped with a gold-trimmed cushion and an item displayed atop it.
There was a book on one pedestal, a crystal on another, a hat, a dagger, a copper cup, and Kat’s brain did her a favor by focusing solely on trying to figure out the theme.
“Az!” two voices called in unison, and identical demons threw their arms out as they hurried across the shop. So much for the benefits of a peculiar mind.