Page 33 of The Devil's Trials

“I’ll book my trip soon and send you my flight details. Until then, keep me posted on all of the things, yeah?”

“You, too.”

After we say goodbye, I haul myself off the couch and drag my ass to bed. Burying myself under the covers, I curl onto my side and pray the exhaustion clinging to my muscles will allow for sleep to take me before my thoughts can spiral all the way out of control.

NINEXANDER

The last time I enjoyed a restful sleep was when I spent the night in Camille’s bed. That warmth and comfort have never felt so far away. I haven’t longed for something this human in…well, ever. Of course, that makes it happening in this instance more concerning, considering I’ve never been less human than I am now.

I try to shake off the unsettled feeling as I shuffle out of the bedroom in search of coffee and find Blake in the kitchen, shirtless, and making…I want to say pancakes?

“Did you leave me any coffee?” I grumble, leaning against the counter opposite him.

“And good morning to you,” he says with a wry grin, whisking the bowl of batter in his hand. He pauses to pour coffee into a mug and sets it in front of me. “There’s a very pressing matter we need to discuss.”

My brows lift as dread gnaws at me. Instead of doing what I want, which is taking my ass back to bed, I ask, “What’s that?”

“Well, you know what tomorrow is.”

I take a sip of my coffee, waiting for him to continue because I genuinely have no idea—nor do I particularly care.

“It’s Halloween, mate.”

“And your point?” I ask hesitantly.

“Hear me out. Things have been all doom and gloom around here for a hot minute. In light of that, I want to throw the most amazing Halloween party anyone has ever attended.” Before I can respond, he quickly adds, “I even bought you a costume.”

I nearly choke on a laugh at how ridiculous he sounds. “You did what?”

“Please hold.” He leaves the room in a blur of movement, coming back a few seconds later with a large paper bag. Shooting me a grin, he pulls out a bright red set of devil horns and a sparkly red tail.

“Fuck off,” I grumble at him.

“So that’s a ‘no’ to the party, then?”

I send a glare in his direction.

He pouts, dropping the costume back into the bag and leaving it on the counter as he returns to the stove, pouring pancake batter into the waiting pan.

With his back to me, he says, “Being that I’m not trying to kiss your ass, because you’ve already crushed my amazing party idea, I’m going to go ahead and tell you that you look like shit.”

I rake a hand through my hair, pressing my lips into a tight smile as I tap my fingers against the side of my mug. “Thanks, Blake. You’re such a pal.” I take a drink of coffee, taking a moment to enjoy the warmth spreading through me.

“I’m not going to ask, and you’re not going to fight me. After we finish devouring these pancakes, we’re going to feed the other hunger I’m sure is clawing at you.”

I exhale a sigh, peering down at the darkness of my mug. I’m not going to argue, because he’s right. I need to be at my strongest to face the first trial.

Once breakfast is ready, Blake sits next to me at the counter, drowning his pancakes in maple syrup.

I shove a forkful of pancake into my mouth and nearly groan. As irritated as I am, Blake makes a damn good breakfast.

I point my fork at him. “Are you planning on putting on a shirt?”

He glances down, smirking when his head lifts. “Does my semi-nakedness bother you?”

I chuckle. “Hardly. But we’re trying to keep a low profile, remember?” Which also makes me think the party was meant as more of a joke, or Blake figured the costumes would provide enough of a disguise to be safe.

“Ah, yes. I suppose my inhumanly impressive abs are rather—”

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