As Jennifer climbed out the window, I watched in silence, keeping an eye on her until she was safely down the metal stairwell. When she hit the ground, she peered at me one last time and took off. I hoped like hell that she’d make it, that she’d continue south and be found by one of her own. It was the only thing I could give her, and goddamn it, if I could, I would.
It didn’t take long to stuff jeans, sweaters and my favorite clothing into the duffel. I quickly retrieved my shit-kickers from the small washroom attached to my kitchen and put them on. Then I returned to the bedroom and took a seat on the floor—in front of the suitcase. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but I was guessing it was nearing the ten-minute mark.
That didn’t leave me wiggle room.
The folder was information that I’d pretty much covered—demon conjuring, how to banish a demon to Hell, and how to kill one. The killing required something blessed by a holy man and a pure-blood demon of all fucking things, which I was guessing was the purpose of the devious little surprise wrapped in a leather sheath inside the case. I slid the dagger into my still-open duffel and exchanged folders.
As the contents of the manila file spilled into my lap, I heard the floor creak and lifted my head, meeting a pair of knowing chocolate-brown eyes. Bells didn’t speak for several seconds, taking in the guilty spectacle of my ass. Then she stepped into the room.
“I figured I’d give you enough time to let your shadow go.”
I almost laughed. Almost. “You knew?”
“I had a general idea.” She crossed to me and took a seat directly across from me. “The question is, what are you up to now?”
I could have lied, but what was the point? Information about Marigold Vesta’s amulet was all over my lap. As Bells lifted one of the various sheets of paper, she studied it. There was no indication of anger, fear, or aggravation.
“I knew you had it. I could feel it on you the moment I mended your wound. Only something as powerful as the pendant of a fallen angel could balance out my darkness.”
That was a fully loaded statement, complete with sour cream and bacon bits. “Your darkness?”
She arched a brow, and in that moment, she appeared very much like her father. “You’re aware of how I was conceived, aren’t you?”
Shit on a stick. “I am.”
“Are you aware of what happens when a mortal and a half-demon procreate?”
“No.” I hated how weak my voice sounded.
“Well.” She smiled at me, but her eyes became cloudy, so dark the pupils were almost absent. “We live out a solid human lifetime as a hybrid. A little of both. When we mature, the demon starts taking over. It’s something you can’t control and you can’t stop. It’s only natural that a being born with half a soul will eventually embrace the darkness they carry.” She paused. “Do you remember when you implied I was like my mother, and I told you we were nothing alike?”
Boy, did I. “You didn’t seem very happy about the idea.”
“It’s because it hit so close to home. In a few months, I’ll reach maturity. It starts with the ability to heal, and then it becomes something else. Instead of wanting to ease pain, I’ll desire to inflict it. I’ve felt it coming for months.”
“Goose—”
“Doesn’t know,” she confessed. “I haven’t told him. Considering the circumstances, it wouldn’t matter anyway. I am what I am, I know what I am, and I know what I’ll eventually become.”
Bells retrieved more of the papers from my lap and began sorting through them, one by one, not saying a word. When she finished, she took the journal and flipped through it. She stopped when she reached a passage and started reading. It was the last page of the journal, so I wasn’t sure what it was, until she actually fucking smiled. When she looked up at me, the bleakness in her eyes was replaced by a look I couldn’t read.
She handed the journal over. “Here.”
Instead of some kind of spell, I found the last page was a letter written by Sonja, telling me if I’d come this far, maybe I was ready to go all the way and book a safe passage home.
“You’re planning to make a deal to go back, aren’t you?”
My fingers stilled on the page. “That depends.”
“On?”