Page 84 of Demon of Dreams

As if on cue, a raven’s caw rang out through the air. Both Isaac and I looked up, but there was no bird to be seen.

“Coincidence,” I muttered, shoving the feather back into the pocket.

“Perhaps,” said Isaac.

“So what’s with the jacket?” I asked. “Why did Tom want you to have it?”

“He didn’t,” Isaac said. “He wanted to return it to its owner. Who he correctly deduced was a student here.”

I frowned, and that thread of worry thickened. “Isaac…”

“It belongs to Cory Dawson,” Isaac said, as if I hadn’t spoken.

I dropped the jacket like it contained a rattlesnake.

“He had some difficulties reaching Vesperwood,” Isaac continued, not commenting on my reaction. “Misplaced some things along the way. Tom said he left those at the Balsam Inn last week.”

I glared. “So?”

“You were off campus that same evening, I believe. You didn’t happen to see him, did you? Or were you not in Pointe Claudette?”

My chest felt tight. It would be dumb to deny it. Isaac could easily double-check what I said against Tom’s memory. Maybe he already had.

“I was there,” I growled. “But I didn’t see him.”

Seeingwasn’t the right word for it anyway. I’d only been in the same room with him for a minute, but it was enough to have burned the image of him into my brain. That wrinkled gray hoodie and his haunting eyes. It had to be because he was an incubus. Nothing more.

“Ah, well.” Isaac sounded unperturbed. “It’s a big enough town. Perhaps you simply passed each other by.”

Pointe Claudette was miniscule, but I wasn’t rising to the bait.

“Well, if it’s supposed to go back to its rightful owner,” I said, bending down to pick the jacket up and hold it out to Isaac. But he didn’t take it. He just laced his fingers together and looked at me.

“I thought you could give it back to him,” he said blandly.

“No.” I shook my head firmly.

“Any particular reason for your refusal?” His tone was mild as milk.

“Just—no.” I shook the jacket, but Isaac made no move to take it.

“You have him in class tomorrow, don’t you? I’ll be busy with meetings all day. It’ll be faster for you to give it to him.”

“He has class with lots of people tomorrow. Nat. Gallo. Seb. Give it to one of them.”

“Natalia and Sebastian have other responsibilities, and asking Fabrizio to do it will require thirty minutes of supplication and praising his ego before he’ll deign to do something as demeaning as act as a courier.”

“And you think I’m eager to do it?”

“I think you’re reasonable enough to comply with a simple request without requiring that I abase myself before you.”

I liked Isaac. Mostly. But he was an expert at getting what he wanted. Not through force of threats, but through the simple means of making you feel like a fool for refusing him.

“Fine,” I grunted. “I’ll give him the damn jacket.”

“Excellent.” Isaac stood, the head of his cane again gleaming in the firelight. “I’ll leave you to your work. Thank you, Noah. For all that you do for Vesperwood.”

I grunted something noncommittal, and by the time I looked up, Isaac had melted back into the darkness across the fire.

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