Page 8 of The Devil's Waltz

Yeah. It’s become one of my favorite cafés in the city. Besides Hallowed Grounds, of course. To be fair, I’ve only been there once and was served day-old coffee.

Heat fills my cheeks, and I press my lips together against a smile.

Funny. I’ll see you later.

Looking forward to it.

Pocketing my phone, I walk into class and drop into the seat next to my friend, Phoebe.

“Morning,” she offers in a singsong voice. She, unlike me, is very much a morning person. Having a nine o’clock lecture doesn’t stop her from curling her golden blond hair into loose waves or putting on a full face of makeup. She’s also rocking some sandaled heels with a floral blouse and high-waisted black dress pants.

The fact that I’m out of bed this early is miracle enough. I grabbed the first pair of black joggers in my dresser and threw them on with a plain maroon T-shirt and running shoes. I also tugged a brush through my hair and threw it into a messy bun, so I feel as if I fit the student persona perfectly.

“Hey, Pheebs.” I pull out my laptop and textbook, setting them up on the table in front of me. “How’s it going?”

“Same old, same old,” she says, turning toward me, sending a faint whiff of her perfume my way. It smells like the beach, all warmth and coconut. “You?”

“Me, too,” I answer, which isn’t entirely true if last night’s events are any indication. But Phoebe has no involvement with the hunters or any idea demons exist. Which, if I’m honest, is part of the reason I enjoy hanging out with her. She also has the best personality of anyone I know. Phoebe is the human embodiment of sunshine, and being near her never fails to make me happier.

“Working tonight?” she asks, drinking from the to-go cup in her hand. She runs on caffeine.

The lecture hall quickly fills with students as it gets close to nine, and I shake my head. “I’m actually hanging out with…a new friend.”

She wiggles her perfectly shaped brows. “A newguyfriend?”

I nearly snort. “Yes. He is a guy.”

“Oh my god, Cami,” she squeals, her green eyes glittering. “This is so exciting. You have a date!”

I shush her, glancing around in anticipation of people near us eavesdropping. But everyone is either not awake enough or too occupied with their own conversations to care. I refocus on Phoebe. “I don’t think—I mean, I don’t know if it is.”

She sets her coffee down, clicking her acrylic nails against the table. “Do you want it to be?”

I haven’t given much thought to dating in the past. No one in high school interested me, and when I started college, my focus was on getting my degree and then a job that would take me away from Seattle.

“Relax, Cami. You don’t have to decide right now. Just have fun.” She shoots me a reassuring grin just as Professor Roth starts her lecture.

Halfway through, my phone buzzes. My stomach sinks when I see it’s a message from my mom.

I heard about the attack at Hallowed Grounds last night. It goes without saying that you should have reported it.

And yet, you said it anyway.

I flip my phone over as a pit forms in my stomach. I don’t think me not reporting it matters now, considering the demon from last night is dead, not terrorizing other humans. My mom texting me has nothing to do with checking onme. She only cares about reprimanding me for not considering a protocol that, as someone who isn’t a demon hunter, I have zero obligation to follow.

I’m okay. Thanks for asking.

I should’ve just ignored the message. It didn’t require a response, but I couldn’t stop myself. Maybe it’s childish, but part of me longs for her to recognize her text is missing what one would expect from a mother. A shred of evidence that she’s relieved the demon didn’t rip me to pieces would be better than what I got. Iknowshe cares, but I’d like toseeit during times like this.

I’ve had a strained relationship with my parents since we lost Danielle. I think there’s a level of blame toward them left in my heart that I haven’t been able to let go of. It doesn’t help that at every turn, they’re still trying to recruit me. My mom more than my dad, but that could be in part because he lives in New York. Not that I see her often, either, despite us living in the same city.

“You okay?” Phoebe asks quietly.

“Hmm?” I shake my head to clear it. “Sorry. Yeah, I’m just tired.” It’s not a complete lie. After the nightmares, I really didn’t get much rest, and I’m feeling it now.

For the rest of class, I tune in and out, replaying both last night’s events and my mother’s subsequent reprimand on a loop until my temples are throbbing.

Phoebe and I walk out of the lecture hall together, and the fresh air feels like heaven on my skin.

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