The Sweetest Burn

There was no way to get over so great a loss. My only coping mechanism was to back-burner it. That’s why I forced another fake smile as I tucked my sister’s hair behind her ear.

“They’d be proud of you, too.”

And they’d want her to be happy. I swiped at my eyes, resolve drying my tears. If I succeeded, she’d have a chance to be, and so would Costa, Adrian and countless other people. What was a little probable death compared to that?

“I’m going to take a shower,” I told her, scratching a hand through my hair and feeling something grainy. “If I’m not mistaken, I’ve got dried blood all over me.”

* * *

OUR BUS STOPPED and started during my shower, but I didn’t think much of it until I came out into the bus’s general living area, looked around and realized that someone was missing.

“Where’s Adrian?”

Costa was driving, and he glanced back at me with a wave. “Out getting another car since he had to leave his Challenger behind. You know this beast is too slow and cumbersome. We’ll need something with power when there’s another emergency.”

“When?” I repeated, with a hollow little laugh. “What a glass-half-empty thought.”

Costa gave me a sardonic grin. “You’re the only optimist on this road trip, Ivy.”

Brutus was in his usual place behind the driver’s seat, a blanket covering him from head to clawed toe. As I approached, he began to wiggle in anticipation. I put my arms around him, ending up in his lap when he grabbed me. Then, with happy-sounding grunts, he began licking my face through the blanket.

“You’re a big softie trapped in a scary gargoyle’s body,” I told him, but I didn’t mind. He must’ve snatched me and Adrian right out of the convertible, saving us from crashing in our badly injured conditions. That was well worth a few face licks.

“Who’s the best, Brutus?” I continued, patting his huge head. He responded with a series of chuffs that were obvious translations of I am, I am! so I patted and praised him again.

Jasmine watched with a sort of morbid fascination. “Mom and Dad should’ve let you get another puppy when we were little,” she finally muttered. “You’ve lost it, Ives.”

“Friends come in all shapes and sizes,” I replied pertly. “And that includes two-ton, demonically altered reptiles.”

Jasmine shook her head, but as she turned away, I caught a glimpse of a smile. Brutus had gone from terrifying her to making her wary to now garnering a smile. In time, she’d come to realize that the fearsome guard she’d seen when she was trapped in a demon realm didn’t truly represent all that Brutus was.

Come to think of it, the same could be said for her perception of Adrian, although she’d probably accept Brutus quicker.

After I was done praising Brutus for his rescue, I had that cup of coffee and fixed something for breakfast, or lunch since it was well past noon. Then I surprised myself by falling asleep on the couch. I hadn’t realized I was still so tired, but I must have been, because it was dark out when I woke up. I suppressed my instant shudder at seeing blackness pressed against the windows as if it were a malevolent force trying to get in. It felt too soon since the last time the darkness I saw had been a real, living thing that had tried to kill me.

“Don’t worry, we’re on hallowed ground.”

Adrian’s voice came from the back of the bus, then he emerged from the bathroom still towel drying his hair. I didn’t know how he’d known that I’d woken up, or how he’d known about the instant dread that had overtaken me at the darkness outside, but his words calmed me. So did seeing him without any bullet holes, blood or bluish-tinged skin. I got up and went to him, and he enfolded me in a hug that seemed to whisper promises to my soul that I gladly drank in.

“Um.” My sister cleared her throat, and that’s the first I realized that she was nearby, too. “I’d say get a room, but with one so close, I’m afraid that you might actually do it.”

I turned, seeing her sitting in the passenger seat despite the bus being parked. “Was that a joke?” I asked in wonder.

She flashed me a small smile. “I hope so.”

I laughed, letting go of Adrian rather reluctantly. “Even if I was tempted into letting him slide from his promise to prove that he won’t betray me, he swears that he won’t do it.”

Adrian arched a brow at Jasmine as if to say, Bet you didn’t expect that. From her expression, he was right.

“Did I miss anything?” Costa said, coming inside the bus.

“Nothing you want to know about,” Jasmine muttered.

Now that everyone was here, I wanted to update them on the most significant thing that had happened during our escape from the realm. “I have something to tell you that should make you feel better.” I cleared my throat. “I, um, think I killed Demetrius.”

Saying the words made me both happy and fearful. I wanted to celebrate, and at the same time, I was half-afraid that the demon would magically show up to prove me wrong.

Jasmine’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Isn’t he already dead?” was Costa’s surprised question.

Adrian made a low, vicious sound. “He survived what happened in Bennington, and while I hope Ivy’s right, I won’t believe he’s truly dead until I dance in his ashes.”

“But how could you kill him?” Costa looked confused. “The sling’s gone, and I thought that only Archons can kill demons.”

I held up my arm. “Turns out, the slingshot isn’t gone. It’s just dormant until a demon gets close. Then it turns back into the real thing, except it only kills them one at a time.”

Jasmine and Costa stared at the markings in disbelief. Adrian laid his hand over the tattoo, smiling a bit grimly.

“She’s telling the truth, and I’d have the burn marks to prove it, if you hadn’t stuffed me full of manna last night.”

“It burns me, too,” I said, with a hollow laugh. “I just don’t get any visible welts. At least it doesn’t hurt as much as it did the first time I used it.”

Adrian glanced back and forth between me and the tattoo before meeting my eyes. “I don’t think the weapon’s potency has diminished. I think you’ve gotten stronger and better able to withstand the pain. In fact—” his expression took on a hard, assessing look “—with it, now we have something to use to build up your tolerance to the staff. A hallowed weapon is the best way to train you to withstand another hallowed weapon.”

I didn’t like the sound of this. “How? I have to be very close to a demon to activate the slingshot, and I don’t want to risk my life hanging out with demons anytime soon.”

The hardness in Adrian’s expression didn’t lessen even as a slight smile curled his lips.

“I might know a way around that.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I FELT A PANG of nostalgia as I looked around the campus of Marquette University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. If my life had turned out differently, I’d be close to finishing my junior year at the College of William and Mary. Jasmine would be wrapping up her freshman year there, and our parents would be looking forward to having both of us home for the summer.

Instead, we were orphaned dropouts who were sneaking onto campus with a gargoyle disguised as a seagull, a former demon-realm captive and the last descendant of Judas. No wonder there were moments when part of me thought that this was just one long, extremely strange dream. Yet here we were, and somewhere on this campus was the place that Adrian apparently called home. He didn’t live here as a student, of course. In fact, according to him, no one knew that he lived here at all.

I had felt the thrum of hallowed ground as soon as we stepped onto the campus. Since this was a Catholic and Jesuit school, that explained why. There were more than a few churches on-site, but I noticed that the supernatural vibrations grew the closer we came to our destination. By the time we reached St. Joan’s Chapel, my nerves felt like they’d been transformed into guitar strings during a concert.

With its medieval architecture, the small stone chapel looked like it belonged next to the ruins of a castle on a lonely European hill. Not surrounded by multistoried lecture halls on the grounds of a modern American university. Evening mass had just ended, judging by the people spilling out of the chapel. I smiled at them as we walked up the stone steps, ignoring the many curious glances aimed at Brutus. If they thought that a seagull tottering behind us looked strange, they’d really freak out if they could see Brutus’s true form. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">