With a sigh, I scrubbed my hands over my face. I should’ve grabbed something to eat or drink on my way out. Of course, I’d been about two seconds away from losing my stomach contents when I came out the first time, and the second time, Nigellus had made it sound like Guthrie might fly off the bed at any moment and try to rip my throat out.
Guthrie.
My grandfather.
I poked at the idea, and decided that after only a few weeks, Guthrie already had more of a claim to the title than fucking Myrial did. Which did not in any way mean that Guthrie would want the title. I couldn’t imagine the news that he’d apparently slept with the same demon who’d bound him was going to go over all that well.
The screams had faded until I could no longer hear anything coming from inside, but as soon as I slid the door open to check on things, shrieks of rage and the sharp sound of a curse echoed through the apartment once more. I quickly closed the door again.
Whoops.
Apparently dangling a warm-blooded snack with a beating pulse in front of Guthrie was a bad plan, even with the blood bags handy. Rather than returning to my position sitting against the wall, I paced. The movement calmed me a little, even though it wasn’t going to help with my exhaustion. I was still chilly even with the bathrobe, but the idea of using the hot tub to warm up somehow seemed disrespectful to what was happening inside.
The screaming came and went in cycles throughout the course of the night. I wondered if it had been like this for Rans when he was turned. His vampire sire had abandoned him immediately after raising him as an undead creature. Had he awoken maddened with bloodlust, screaming in agony but with no handy sterile blood bags around to sate his hunger? The thought made me shiver.
I ended up curling my body onto one of the upholstered benches scattered around the outdoor space—not sleeping, exactly, but rather passing the hours in a sort of dazed fugue state. Eventually, the sky in the east lightened, proclaiming the approach of a cloudy morning.
The door slid open and I sat up groggily, craning to see who it was. Rans walked over and I stood to meet him, wrapping my arms around him tightly when he stepped into my embrace and rested his forehead against my shoulder. We stood that way for long minutes, one of my hands running up and down his back in a slow rhythm.
EPILOGUE
“HOW IS HE?” I asked in a groggy, early morning rasp.
“Unconscious,” he said into the crook of my neck. “It’s nearly dawn. He’ll be insensible for hours. It’s safe for you to come inside—sorry you were stuck out here all night.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I said. “Come on. I need breakfast. Then we both need sleep.”
He nodded, but stayed where he was. I let him rest in the circle of my arms a bit longer before nudging him to move.
Guthrie wasn’t big on dry cereal, but there were commercial waffles in a box in the freezer. After popping a couple in the toaster and downing them with a much-needed glass of orange juice, I felt better prepared to face things. The other two had stripped the bed and replaced the sheets, presumably also cleaning Guthrie up again and dressing him in fresh pajama bottoms.
The Turkish rug in his bedroom was going to be a total loss, I suspected—and if you looked around, there were telltale blood traces elsewhere, as well. Nigellus was back in the same chair he’d occupied the previous evening, but someone had dragged a couple of other chairs into the room so we could all sit down.
I wanted a shower. I wanted proper sleep. I wanted someone to tell me that there wouldn’t be another random crisis ten minutes from now. But first, I wanted to see for myself how Guthrie was doing.
He looked... peaceful, I supposed. Though it was hard to credit such a thing after hearing his agonized shrieks throughout the night.
I sat on one of the empty chairs. Rans, meanwhile, hovered near the bed, pacing restlessly for a few steps, and then pausing to watch Guthrie for a bit before repeating the process in the other direction.
“How did you find me yesterday, Nigellus?” I asked eventually, not looking away from the bed.
“Ransley had been blowing up my phone with calls and texts,” the demon said absently. “I left Hell shortly after I realized you’d gone back to Earth alone, and I got the messages as soon as I emerged from the cavern. You should have informed me that you intended to leave without me.”
I ignored that last bit and turned to meet his eyes. “Yeah... that might explain how you found Rans, since I imagine he gave you GPS coordinates for the power substation. But I asked how you found me. It couldn’t have been by tracking Edward’s wards on me—his wards broke the moment Myrial killed him.”
“I’d be interested in the answer to the question as well,” Rans said quietly.
Nigellus regarded us with a furrowed brow. “There’s no great mystery. You borrowed Edward’s phone, Zorah. It has tracking software installed for use in emergencies. I’d say yesterday’s situation certainly qualified as such.”
I frowned. “He said the battery was dead, though.”
The demon raised an eyebrow. “Clearly not.”
It was still in my pocket, so I pulled it out and thumbed the power button.
“Nothing,” I pointed out, lifting it so the others could see the darkened screen.
“Considering the amount of rain it was
