Chapter 5 Watching
Chapter five
Watching
Jade
The elevator doors and I stepped into the hallway, the threadbare carpet muffling my footsteps as I made my way toward my apartment.
After the luxury of Magnur's penthouse, my building looked even shabbier than usual.
But it was mine, a safe space I'd created after escaping Trevor.
As I rounded the corner toward my unit, a chill slid down my spine like cold fingers, stopping me mid-stride.
The hallway looked exactly as it always did, empty and quiet.
So why did my body suddenly think I was in danger?
The hair on the back of my neck stood up, my skin prickling with goosebumps despite the stuffy warmth of the building.
I hadn't survived a relationship with Trevor without developing a sixth sense for when something wasn't right.
And right now, every cell in my body was screaming that I was being watched.
The stairwell at the end of the hall caught my attention.
The door was closed, but was that a shadow visible through the small safety glass window?
I stared, barely breathing, until I convinced myself it was just a trick of the light.
I quickly made my way to my door and practically fell into my apartment before slamming the door behind me. One lock. Two. Deadbolt. Chain.
For good measure, I pressed my eye to the peephole, scanning the now-visible portion of the hallway. Still empty. I exhaled slowly, my shoulders dropping from around my ears as tension began to seep out of me. Safe. I was safe.
I moved to my bedroom, pulling my largest weekender bag from the closet.
What does one pack for an extended stay with a demon mate?
The question would have seemed absurd two days ago.
Now it was just my life. As I folded a soft sweater into the bag, my mind drifted back to the night before, a smile tugged at my lips without permission, warmth spreading through my chest that had nothing to do with exertion and everything to do with the thread connecting us across the city.
Even now, I could feel it—a gentle pull southeast, toward where he must be.
Was he feeling this too? This ridiculous, teenage butterflies-in-stomach sensation that made me want to giggle for no reason? I hoped so. It seemed only fair that he should be as distracted as I was.
The knock on my door was so sudden and loud that I actually yelped, the sweater dropping from my hands as I spun toward the sound. My heart launched into my throat, pounding so hard I could feel my pulse in my fingertips.
No one should be knocking. I wasn't expecting anyone. Ziggy always texted first. My neighbors kept to themselves. And Magnur wouldn't be back for hours.
Which meant...
Oh god. Trevor? Had he actually followed me? Found where I lived?
The fear that shot through me was so visceral, so immediate, that for a moment I couldn't breathe.
Another knock, more insistent this time.
I crept toward the door on silent feet, my body tense as a coiled spring.
The peephole felt miles away, each step taking forever as scenarios raced through my head—Trevor's face on the other side, his fist raised to pound again, that smile he wore when he knew he'd cornered me.
I pressed my eye to the peephole, pulse thundering in my ears, stomach twisted into knots. And there, grinning widely and waving directly at the peephole like he knew exactly where I was looking, was Ziggy.
My knees actually buckled as the adrenaline drained from my system all at once. I fumbled with the locks, hands still shaking, and threw the door open to find my best friend posing dramatically against the doorframe.
"Honey, I'm home!" he announced, arms spread wide. Then his expression shifted as he took in my face. "Whoa, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I grabbed his arm and yanked him inside, slamming the door behind him and re-engaging every lock before turning to face him.
"You scared the shit out of me," I accused, torn between hugging him and smacking him. "Why didn't you text first?"
"I tracked your location," Ziggy announced, striding into my apartment like he owned the place.
He tossed his messenger bag onto my couch and spun to face me, hands on his hips.
"You disappeared with a giant demon stranger last night, and I gave you until noon before I activated the 'find my dumbass friend' protocol.
I was waiting to see if you were dead, kidnapped, or properly dicked down.
" He paused, eyeing me up and down. A slow grin spread across his face. "I'm going with option three."
I smacked his arm, but couldn't suppress the laugh that bubbled up, breaking the tension that had gripped me moments before. "You could have texted!"
"And miss this walk of shame ensemble?" He circled me, tugging at the oversized shirt sleeve. "Girl, is this his? It's big enough to be a tent. How tall is this guy anyway?"
"Like 6'8"," I admitted, feeling my cheeks warm. "And yes, it's his. He... sort of destroyed my dress."
Ziggy stopped mid-circle, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. "Destroyed? Like, tore it off you in a fit of passion?"
"Pretty much exactly like that."
His squeal of delight was so high-pitched I winced. He grabbed my hands, pulling me toward the couch. "Tell me everything. Right now. Do not leave out a single, solitary detail, or I swear to god I will never forgive you."
"Well," I began, settling onto the couch beside him, "first of all, he's a demon."
Ziggy clutched an imaginary pearl necklace. "Stop. A literal demon daddy? The universe has finally decided to reward you for all those years with Captain Controlling."
I nodded, tucking my legs underneath me. "It gets better. He took me back to his place and proceeded to absolutely ruin me for all other men. Multiple times."
Ziggy fanned himself dramatically. "I'm listening."
I gave him the highlights, relaxing against the couch cushions feeling giddy about sharing the joy I'd felt the past 24 hours.
"He wants me to stay with him," I concluded. "Like, pack a bag and just... be there. With him."
Ziggy studied my face carefully. "And how do we feel about that?"
It was a fair question. One I'd been asking myself since Magnur made the suggestion.
"It feels different," I said slowly, trying to articulate something I didn't fully understand myself. "He's not telling me I have to stay with him. He's not saying my place isn't good enough or trying to isolate me. He just... wants me there. And I want to be there."
A small smile played at Ziggy's lips. "Alright, enough mushy shit. Let's get you packed for your demon honeymoon!" He bounced up from the couch and headed toward my bedroom, where the half-packed bag still lay open on my bed.
"It's not a honeymoon," I protested, following him. "It's just staying over for a while."
"Sure, Jay," he replied, already rummaging through my dresser drawers. He held up a lacy bra, examining it before tossing it into the bag. "This one, because titties."
I rolled my eyes but didn't stop him. This was Ziggy in his element, taking charge was his love language.
"These skirts," he continued, pulling out three of my shorter ones, "for easy access."
"Ziggy!" I laughed, snatching one back. "I need actual clothes too. I have to work, remember?"
"Fine," he conceded, adding some of my more professional tops to the pile. "But the demon gets what the demon wants, and I'm pretty sure he wants access to all..." He gestured at my body, "this."
I couldn't argue with that. Magnur had been pretty clear about his appreciation for my curves.
Ziggy continued his commentary as he packed, moving from clothes to toiletries with the efficiency of someone who traveled frequently.
"Chargers," he insisted, grabbing both my phone and laptop cables, "because you are not having a dead phone in a demon's bed.
How else will I get the 411 on you getting put through the mattress? "
I laughed, sitting at my small desk to check work emails while he finished. I had a client meeting in less than an hour, and as much as I wanted to bask in the afterglow of my night with Magnur, I still had responsibilities.
"Don't forget your pink vibrator," Ziggy called from the bathroom where he was gathering my skincare products.
"I'm pretty sure I won't need it," I called back, scanning an email from my biggest client.
His head popped around the bathroom door, eyebrows waggling. "That good, huh?"
I just smiled, which was answer enough. Ziggy disappeared back into the bathroom with a victorious whoop.
The whole scene felt delightfully conspiratorial, like we were teenagers getting ready for a sleepover rather than adults in our thirties. Ziggy's presence had completely transformed the vibe of the apartment which I was grateful for.
"Okay," he announced, emerging from the bathroom with an armful of products. "Moisturizer because dry skin is the devil, face wash because you can't be letting demon boy see you with yesterday's mascara under your eyes, and your good perfume because..." He shimmied his shoulders suggestively.
"You're the absolute worst," I told him, but my smile undercut any sting the words might have carried.
"You love me," he replied confidently, arranging the toiletries in my bag.
"God help me, I do."
He zipped the compartment closed with a flourish, then stepped back to survey his work.
The bag was packed efficiently but thoroughly—enough clothes for at least a week, all my essential toiletries, work equipment, and even the small stuffed rabbit I'd had since childhood that still sat on my bed. I hadn't even seen him grab that.
"There," he announced, hands on his hips. "All packed for your supernatural dick appointment."
I shook my head, unable to keep from smiling. "It's more than that, Zig."