Page 29 of The Devil's Waltz
Halfway through the meal, as I continue getting to know Camille’s friends, I come to understand why she cares for them so deeply. Phoebe has a soft aura of warmth about her, and Grayson exudes a calming energy that seems to spread to those around him.
As laughable as it is, I find myself comparing them to Blake. His aura is the opposite of sunshine most days, and his energy can really only be summed up as chaotic. That said, I can’t help being curious about what would happen if the three of them met. Mostly how Blake would respond to them. I press my lips together at the thought, hiding my smile by taking a drink as the conversation continues around our table.
After dinner, we part ways from her friends and head down the street toward the parking lot where we left my car. There weren’t any spots on the crowded street left when we arrived, so we’re several blocks from the restaurant. The wind has picked up, making the air cooler, so I wrap my jacket around Camille’s shoulders and tuck her against my side as we stroll down the sidewalk.
She laughs. “Thanks.”
I give her a gentle squeeze. “Anytime.”
We approach the Camaro, and I unlock it, reaching for the passenger side door handle to open it for her.
The demon comes out of nowhere.
She grabs me from behind, pulling me away from Camille and shoving me against a brick storefront, snarling in my face with pitch-black eyes. Her growl is nearly loud enough to drown out the sound of Camille shouting, her voice a mix of fear and surprise. The demon’s brows tug together, and she recoils as I reach for the obsidian dagger I conveniently kept in my jacket pocket…which is still wrapped around my date.
“Xander!” Camille’s voice cracks, and the demon in front of me gasps, those endlessly black eyes widening.
“Camille—” I’m about to shout at her for the dagger, but it’s already in her hand, her grip ironclad and her expression grim as she moves with lethal grace.
I’m briefly stunned by her actions. This is nothing like her response to the demon the night we met, when she froze instead of fighting back. Her heart is pounding in her chest, but she isn’t backing down this time.
The demon whirls on her, barking out a laugh when she spots the weapon Camille is wielding.
I move without warning, grabbing the demon from behind, much like how she grabbed me a moment ago, and restrain her. Holding her arms behind her back, I grit my teeth, breathing hard, as if I’m exerting every ounce of strength I have to keep this demon trapped. I open my mouth, but before I have a chance to direct Camille to move, she strikes, slamming the dagger into the demon’s chest.
The demon stiffens in my grip, hissing and crying out in pain as Camille plunges the obsidian blade straight through her heart. The demon’s eyes bulge out of her face, and her mouth opens in a silent scream. Then she turns to ash, littering the pavement with the only remaining evidence of her existence.
My stomach twists with nausea at the sight. I didn’t know the demon, but part of me andmyexistence felt connected to her.
She was a means to an end, I remind myself, shifting my gaze to where Camille is standing frozen, staring at the remnants of the demon.
“You can’t tell anyone about this,” she whispers unevenly, wiping her hands against her thighs as she backs toward the car.
I offer her a look that I hope resembles understanding and nod for extra measure. “For someone who’s been out of the game for years, that was impressive,” I tell her, collecting the dagger and tucking it into the back of my pants.
Camille’s face is pale, her brows furrowed. “I…don’t know what happened. I feel like I blacked out for a minute and—”
“Saved my ass,” I offer, stepping into her. “Thank you.”
Confusion still clouds her expression. “That demon seemed like she knew you.”
My muscles tense briefly, but I manage to keep my expression neutral as I nod. “I was part of the team that raided one of the popular demon spots in Spokane last week. She and I fought, but she got away before I could finish her.” When Camille doesn’t say anything more, I touch her shoulder gently. “Come on. I should get you home.”
“They’re being more conspicuous these days,” she comments in a detached voice, sharp with fear. “Since when do they attack so openly? They used to be more secretive about it. Harper said the number of attacks is increasing and—”
“Breathe,” I urge in a soft voice. “The demon is dead. I’m okay.” I step in front of her, placing my hands on her shoulders. “You’re okay.” Her gaze is hazy as she continues blinking rapidly. “Camille, look at me.”
She sucks in a breath, as if coming back to herself. Her eyes are still glassy when they meet mine. She swallows hard, her pulse still ticking unusually fast. “I…Sorry. I’m fine.”
“That’s right.” I give her an encouraging nod. “Take a deep breath with me.” I inhale with her, then exhale slowly. “Good. Another one.” We stand there for a couple more minutes, breathing together until her heart rate returns to normal before getting into the car.
Camille is quiet on the drive to her apartment, and when we pull up outside, I walk her to the door. She hands me back my jacket, and I step closer, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Tonight probably didn’t go the way you expected it to, and I’m sorry.” I lean in, lowering my voice. “I’ll make it up to you this weekend, if you’ll let me.”
Her lips curve into a faint smile. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”
My gaze drops to her mouth, and her pulse ticks faster as I hook my finger under her chin. “Good night,” I murmur, my lips brushing hers in the whisper of a kiss.
Her breath hitches, and she leans into me, her hands tentatively sliding up my chest.
