Page 84 of A Study of Blood and Ichor

“If that is how you truly feel, so be it,” he said. “Just know that no matter how your little experiment goes, if by some miracle you were able to drive me out and banish me, my feelings for you would still not have changed. And I would crawl back to you both every single time.”

Then without another word, Vain stalked out of the room, leaving me reeling in his wake.

TWENTY-THREE

Rory

The demon thrashed against the restraints, jaws snapping at the air as it struggled to free itself from the obsidian slab.

It had only been a few hours since Vain had asked Nesera for a sample of ichor, and she returned with a bound and unconscious demon slung over her shoulders, appearing to not have even broken a sweat over the encounter.

“You owe me,” she had said before leaving to deposit the demon in the storeroom a floor below the penthouse.

Vain and I both grumbled at the thought of owing Nesera anything while we waited for Ava to join us.

He was looking forward to this. I, on the other hand, was not nearly as excited at the idea of being near ichor again anytime soon. The smell of it had almost made me sick the last time.

You’re being dramatic again, Vain said. It’s not that bad.

“You can only say that because you’re used to the stuff.”

The demon, which was apparently classified as a simulacrum, appeared more beast than human. The proportions of its body were all wrong—legs and arms longer than the rest of it, an emaciated torso, hollowed cheeks that were so sunken in that the bones protruded to sharp points beneath the gray skin.

My palms slicked with sweat each time the demon rattled against the chains, and I was sure it would break free and unleash itself on me, driven by nothing but primal hunger.

The door eased open quietly as Ava let herself into the storeroom. Vain’s essence fluttered inside me at the sight of her, or was that my own heart reacting? Did it even fucking matter anymore?

She’d somehow managed to root herself a place within my soul, right alongside Vain. Just as deep, and just as profound. There was no longer any question or doubt in my mind that my feelings for her were not just Vain’s that warped my own.

But something had changed in her, like a complete shift had happened overnight. Earlier today, I could feel her pulling away—could see the hesitancy in her eyes. And the hurt of it stung more than I cared to admit. Especially because I couldn’t understand why.

Watching her cross the room, the hem of her dark green dress kissed just above her bare knees, and I wanted to rip it to shreds and throw myself at her like a feral—

Would you cut it out and stop thinking so loud? I hissed through the bond. Stop being so fucking horny and control yourself dammit!

Vain squirmed inside me. Give yourself some credit. That wasn’t all me.

And I hated how right he was. He was trying to make me fucking lose it in front of her, and I had to discreetly adjust myself before pushing off the stack of wooden crates.

The room was nothing more than four concrete walls and piles of crates stacked on top of each other with no order to them. The obsidian slab with the demon shackled atop it was tucked away near the back with a singular fluorescent lamp hanging from the ceiling above it. The simulacrum squinted against the bright light as it writhed with newfound vigor at the sound of Ava’s approaching footsteps.

“What is this?” Ava asked, waving her hand at the slab. “I asked for a sample of ichor, not a full-blown demon.”

I raised both my hands. “Don’t look at me.”

Vain pushed himself to the forefront, offering her a soft smile. “Obtaining the sample is half the fun.”

Ava crossed her arms and scowled at him. “You’re sick.”

“No, I just know how to have a good time.”

“Semantics,” she groaned and then stalked past Vain toward the slab. Her head tilted slightly as she approached it, her studious gaze trailing along the demon’s odd and gangling form. The simulacrum snarled louder, a low gurgling growl that rumbled through its body.

According to Vain, these demons, while mostly humanoid in form, were born and bred to kill. They survived solely off the emotions of mortals and would leave them as nothing more than hollow husks of their former selves by the time they were through.

Every snap of teeth flung strings of foaming saliva from its mouth. Its yellow catlike eyes bulged from its skull.

“I’m laying out my conditions,” Vain said from behind her as he rolled up the long sleeves of his white shirt to our elbows.

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