Chapter 10
ANOTHER LETTER BUT WORSE
Kat
Kat hadn’t seen Azrion in two days. Consequently, Kat had experienced two days of peace and quiet and she was to be granted one more before she would have to deal with him again, which she should have appreciated—and she did, surely—but something was off.
Things were…easier when the vexatiously audacious demon wasn’t around, slower, simpler.
But they were duller too, which was quite the surprise considering how colorful Heck was.
Yet the lanterns seemed a lesser shade of purple as she sorted mail.
But if Kat wanted color, she had plenty of garments to get to hemming—she certainly didn’t need a lavender peacock preening his feathers in her face.
Brioni’s absence and Alamar’s inconsistent presence were really to blame for Kat’s odd feelings anyway.
She found herself completely alone in the post most of the day and without a chatty companion after dinner, which again was fine.
It just wasn’t exactly fair when she’d just gotten used to Alamar’s swishing tail and Brioni’s bright laughter.
“I should appreciate the quiet while I have it,” she said out loud into the silence of the sorting chamber, but then the entry bell rang, and Kat straightened with interest rather than trepidation.
She still hesitated before dropping her stack of letters and hurrying to the front office because worn nerves weren’t mended by a single friendly conversation with a tailor, but Kat had helped several strangers since coming to Heck, and even if one of those times led to her “dating” a demon for coin, at least she was getting some practice.
It also probably helped that she prepared herself each morning by waking early to get the fretting out of the way.
She would run through potential scripts while staring at the ceiling as the moon rose.
When an elderly demon woman needed a gift tied up for her neighbor the previous day, Kat only stuttered twice, so it must have counted for something.
She wiped the sweat off her palms and smoothed down her hair, clearing her throat just as she stepped behind the counter.
“Oh, well, hello.” The demon spoke first—a relief—and she was already smiling—a blessing from the gods.
Her voice might have reminded Kat of Brioni’s, but there was something different about the cheeriness it carried.
Not that it mattered why she was so delighted to be in the post—a happy demon meant more forgiveness for mistakes.
“How can I help you?” Oh, and what a grand surprise: Kat’s own voice sounded sure of itself too.
The demon raised her brows and took a long look around the post. She was strikingly pretty with rosy-colored hair, but there was no wildness to her mane, every curl cascading perfectly over her shoulders. “I need to send something to someone,” she said, still smiling.
“Well, you came to the right place. The only place actually.” Kat grinned, the words coming easy. It wasn’t the kind of thing she’d normally say aloud, but that had been one of the lines of pleasant banter she’d been practicing.
The demon didn’t laugh, which was fine—it wasn’t really that funny, she supposed.
“Alamar usually handles these things,” Kat said, buoying her certainty by rolling her shoulders, “so I might need a little more information from you than normal. Is that okay?”
“Oh, that’s no problem at all. I only need to send a message.”
Maybe this would be much easier than Kat expected. “Do you have it? Already addressed?”
“No. Actually, I need you to transcribe it for me.”
The demon was staring at her so expectantly that transcription had to be a routine service the post offered, so Kat nodded and felt around blindly under the counter for parchment. She pulled out a scroll, but when it unraveled, the long length fell to the floor in a mess.
“Shit,” Kat hissed, then ducked to stuff the whole thing back into a cubby.
She willed her face not to redden uselessly as she found a more appropriately sized piece for a letter—not that the demon had specifically said it was a letter.
She’d called it a message, and that could mean anything— No, don’t second guess. Just do.
When Kat popped back up to her feet, the demon woman’s grin had shifted from amiable to amused, and it was undoubtedly at the human’s clumsy expense. Double shit. At least she wasn’t angry.
The quills were already on the counter, a pot of ink beside them.
She would have appreciated one of those magical quills, but the post didn’t carry them, so she dipped hers carefully.
Now was not the time for shaky fingers, but a droplet of ink fell to the counter before she could touch the quill to parchment anyway. Damn it to all the hells!
“Go ahead,” Kat said with a taut throat and all the pleasantness of a woman feigning niceties to a drunkard in a tavern.
The demon hummed in a thoughtful way, eyes trained on Kat, which was maybe better than watching her hand but not by much. “Dear Transient Mate, I must admit I admire your bravery. In your position, I might do exactly the same, but you must know the truth.”
Kat stared hard at the parchment, focused entirely on crafting the words as neatly as possible. The demon was very good at enunciating, so copying them down was easy, and yet uneasiness churned in Kat’s guts anyway.
“You will fail, and it will be humiliating. You might be welcome in this city, but you look ridiculous on a noble demon’s arm. I would suggest you back down now to avoid getting your little feelings hurt, but you’ve already crossed the wrong demon, and I intend to relish in your downfall.”
The terrible pieces fell into terribler place somewhere around little feelings. Kat kept writing because that was all she could do. It was better than believing what was happening, but then the quill ran out of ink, and she had to face the shame of it all.
Kat dared to look up. The pink demon was still smiling, no longer just amused but sinisterly thrilled.
“All my sincerest love, Melora Thiemos.”
Kat’s fingers quivered around the quill, her head pounded, her eyes stung.
Gods, no, not now. Not in front of her.
“I think you know where to send that.” Azrion’s mate, the one he so desperately wanted to win back, dropped a single copper coin on the counter. She watched the smallest sum bounce to the floor then turned on her heel and glided out of the post.
The sound of the coin clinking over the entry’s floorboards rattled into the silence left behind and into Kat’s aching head.
Her ears rung, pain in her temple intensifying.
She’d said nothing, done nothing, just stared.
At least she’d been too shocked to truly cry, but gods she’d been a weak fool—couldn’t she have at least told her to get out?
Thrown that coin back at her? Yelled about how stooping to such callowness meant the relationship she was fighting for was clearly a sham?
No, that would have been a little too self-aware, even for this book.
Kat squeezed her eyes shut on the blurriness and huffed.
Without looking at the words again, she tore the parchment in two and then ripped at it again and again until there were only tiny shreds left on the counter.
Then she snatched up the coin and threw the bolt on the door—it was close enough to lunch and Alamar wouldn’t be back for hours anyway.
The building rage in Kat’s heart drove her to stalk through the post, upstairs to the hall, and made her jiggle the latch on the window much harder this time so that it popped open with ease.
She climbed out onto her tree and peered into the Crescent District.
Hidden from demonic view, she searched for the beautiful pink demon, the coin denting her palm in an iron grip, but of course she was already long gone.
A breeze swept over Kat’s calf as it hung over the branch.
It didn’t quell the pounding in her head, but the gentle caress was enough to soothe the minor urge for violence.
Gods, what would she have done? Actually thrown the coin at her?
A needle? Her whole sewing bag? She snorted at the thought of thread and pin cushions raining down from the leaves atop Melora’s head.
That would be a waste anyway; demons had generously gifted Kat the supplies when Brioni told them—against Kat’s wishes, of course—about her hobby.
She might no longer have the bits and bobs that Kaly had scrounged for her back in Ankerick, but she wouldn’t squander her new collection.
From inside the bag Alamar had given her to hold it all, Kat pulled out a patch of old material, thick and good for many uses.
Her undone stitches left holes and pulls, but it was only for practice.
The ghost of a pattern remained on the piece, the one she’d planned for Kaly’s fundraiser garments and then decided against using.
“Wrasmos give my sister the strength to navigate that gathering without drawing blood.” Kat had considered embroidering “no stabbing” inside the waist of her trousers, but she didn’t want Kaly to think she was trying to make amends with a few fancy stitches and a sorry excuse at humor.
Her sister would probably accept, but it wouldn’t have been enough.
Kat wanted something grander, needed something meaningful and permanent. A promise she could keep.
At least Kat had sewn up the trousers’ tail hole with a special stitch that would highlight Kaly’s hard work training. Even if her sister didn’t know, it was the thought of making her butt look great that probably counted.
A chuckle bubbled up out of Kat and then tears followed swiftly after.
She strangled back the laugh-cry that wanted to burst from her lungs, sure that even in Heck the trees didn’t make such sounds.
The farcical ache choked her back, and she squeezed the scrap fabric to her chest until it was all pushed back down into that place she promised herself she would never purposefully go.
Back down now to avoid getting your little feelings hurt.
“Melora doesn’t know anything about my feelings,” Kat hissed to herself. “And what does she care about them anyway. She only cares about—oh. Oh.” Kat blinked, sitting up against the trunk. Did she…did Melora think that Kat wasn’t in on Azrion’s scheme?
It’s working. The corner of Kat’s lip ticked up, perhaps not because she was helping to make that demon jealous but because she had been at least tangentially convincing. Which meant she was one step closer to getting everything Azrion had promised and then presenting it to Kaly as amends.
“I can do this,” she said, wiping at her face with the well-worn fabric. Even if her headache hadn’t gone, all the other aches had. When Alamar returned, Kat would take some of the tonic from Aofe and lie down. And tomorrow she would show Melora how brave she could actually be.