Chapter 23
twenty-three
. . .
Present Day
My heart aches so badly, I fear it will burst. He was a kid.
Kit, I mean. The scar that lives on the adult version of his lip was not yet there, his face was riddled with acne, and there were light patches of a beard he hadn’t quite learned how to shave correctly growing in.
He was just a kid with his entire life ahead of him, and he traded it away for someone else to live.
It would be nice to think that there are a lot of people out there making deals with demons for the good of others, but I doubt that’s true. Even if they get a soul out of it, Hell is not in the business of good deeds.
“Kit…I don’t know what to say.”
He quickly says, “I don’t want you to sympathize with me or feel bad for me, because you shouldn’t.
You asked what the deal was, and that was it.
My nephew was diagnosed with leukemia when he was five and was nearly dead a year and a half later.
He was all my sister had. I mean, of course, she had me and my parents and my brother, but Xander’s father was never in the picture and she didn’t have another partner at the time.
She had him when she was sixteen, and he was her world.
I couldn’t sit there and watch her world fade away. ”
“That’s admirable.”
“It’s not,” he shoots back immediately. “It’s not, because…fuck, Lacy. Because I regret it.”
I purse my lips before I try to dissect this with him. “Do you regret it because you wish he was dead and you had lived?”
He exhales roughly. “I don’t wish he was dead.”
“Then is it because you wish it wasn’t a choice you had to make? You or him? It was a situation you created for yourself, but it did still come down to an unfair choice.”
“I wish I didn’t make it for myself.”
“No,” I contradict. “You wish there was a scenario where you could have both lived. You wish that he was never sick. You don’t regret your choice. You’re just pissed that the only thing that could cure him was your life.”
He surprises me when he appears before me on the bed and grabs my face in his hands. “Why do you know me so well?”
My shoulders lift, me feeling oddly nervous by the question. “It’s easy to get to know someone when you’re sharing one body.”
He grins. It’s crooked. I like that. “I suppose that’s true.”
I wrap my hands around his wrists, because he’s still holding my face in his hands. “Why don’t you spend more time in here with me?”
His mouth curves downward. “It’s difficult to manifest myself in here.
It’s exhausting.” He takes his hands away from my face, and I slide mine down to meet his where they’re settled in between our crossed legs.
His thumb strokes over my hand. I can almost feel his warmth, but I know in reality I can’t feel a thing.
His form in here is no more real than mine is.
“I wish we could exist as two people,” I admit, staring down at our entwined hands before cautiously lifting my eyes back to his.
Something flashes through his face, and he pulls back before fading away. My chest pinches, cheeks heating at the rejection.
His voice rings through the void. “But we can’t. I’m not a person, Lacy. I was, once. Long ago. I know it hasn’t been that long in Earth years, but I spent centuries in Hell. I will never be the human I once was.”
My head drops as I stare at my empty hands. “I know,” I whisper, embarrassed that he has to keep reminding me of this. It’s just…I’ve grown to quite like the human he was. And as senseless as it seems, I don’t hate the demon he is.
He clears his throat. “I’ve got to get ready. I have a poker game tonight.”
That surprises me. I don’t know why I assumed it would be the two of us again tonight. Why would it be? Kit has his own life. I’m just along for the ride.
“You don’t play for kittens, do you?”
“Uh, no? Why would we play for kittens?”
My face stays hot. “Sorry—Buffy the Vampire Slayer reference. Demons. Poker. Kittens.”
He cackles. “Oh! I totally forgot about that. Ha, no. Just regular cash and mystical objects.”
The doorbell rings, making me jump.
“One of your crazed fans?” Kit mutters as we go to answer it. I find my way toward my window so I can see what’s happening.
However, no one is there. He opens the door wider, peeking around cautiously. His eyes turn down to see a small giftbag sitting on my welcome mat.
“Suspicious,” he comments.
“Yeah,” I agree.
He picks up the gift bag like it could explode any second and brings it to my kitchen. Dropping it on the counter, he digs through the bag, pulling out can after can of a hard seltzer brand I don’t recognize.
“Is this a creepy way to ask me to be a brand sponsor?” I wonder, though I am somewhat thrilled by the prospect.
Kit grumbles unintelligibly. His fingers trace the bottom of the bag, where he finds a card.
He tears open the envelope then reads what it says aloud.
“‘Thought you would like these. They’re like heaven in a can. Hope you’re doing okay and soaking up some necessary alone time.
Matthias.’” Kit clicks his tongue. “Nice guy.”
“He is. Is that all the note says?”
“Uh, after his signature… I don’t know what it means. S1E4.”
“Season one, episode four,” I say without thinking.
“Of what?”
Lore Hunters, I think excitedly. The exorcism episode, it has to be. Aloud, I lie, “Buffy. We have an inside joke about the praying mantis lady. It’s hard to explain.”
“Oh. All right.”
Kit drops the note and heads to the bathroom to start getting ready.
While he does, I ponder the rest of Matthias’s note.
The seltzer is “heaven in a can.” Could it be holy water?
How did he get holy water into a seltzer can?
I suppose magic could logically be the answer to that, if he is as skilled as he implied.
The rest of the note means he hopes I’m not possessed anymore—he knows if I wasn’t, I would reach out.
Now I have holy water and an exorcism prayer at my disposal. I just need to find a time to use them.