Page 73 of The Devil's Trials

I pull my phone out to get the conversation with my mom over with, sighing when it goes to voicemail. She’s probably asleep already. Instead of leaving a message, I end the call and try Harper.

“Helloooooo,” she sings into the phone. “You’re up late.”

“Yeah…”

“What’s with the weird tone?” Concern fills her voice. “Did something happen?”

“Uh, well, I went out with some people from training tonight, which was fun, but when we left the restaurant, there was sort of a demon attack.”

“Sort of?”

I walk to the couch and drop onto it, propping a throw pillow under my head. “Okay, therewasa demon attack, and I…killed the demon.”

There’s a stretch of silence on the line, and if I didn’t hear Harper breathing I’d think the call dropped.

“Fuck. That’s really intense,” she finally says. “I’m sorry, babe. Were you hurt?”

“No. I…I’m fine.”

“Are you though?”

“Not really,” I answer honestly.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“I understand,” she says. “If you decide at any time that you do, I’m just a call away. I don’t care what time it is.”

“Thanks, Harper,” I say, my bottom lip trembling as my eyes burn. “You are the best friend I could ever ask for. I appreciate you so much.”

“Don’t worry, babe. I know. And right back at you. Get some rest, and we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

I sit up, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Sounds good.”

We hang up, and I get off the couch, walking into my room. I leave my phone on the nightstand and slip into the bathroom to shower before bed.

The moment I step under the hot spray of water, I can’t hold back tears. They fall down my cheeks as my shoulders shake, and I choke when I try to stifle a sob. The pressure in my rib cage has me sliding down the shower tile wall until I’m sitting on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest.

I’m still crying when the water loses its warmth nearly an hour later. I’ve been so overwhelmed by everything since Xander killed Lucia three weeks ago, and it’s all I can do to let out the emotions I haven’t been able to deal with otherwise.

After I turn off the shower and get ready for bed, I send my mom a to-the-point message.

Hey, Mom. I don’t remember the official procedure for submitting information about a demon attack, so please consider this my report. I was with a group of other trainees tonight at Two Boots in the East Village and ran into a demon when we were leaving. Noah showed up and gave me a dagger which I used to kill the demon. No one got seriously hurt and I’m home now, just heading to bed. If you need any other information, let me know, but otherwise, I would really prefer not to discuss it. And please don’t tell Dad. I want to do that myself.

I switch my phone to silent and leave it face down on my bedside table. I figure I’ve given my mom the pertinent information and let herknow I’m safe, so anything else can wait until my head doesn’t feel like scrambled eggs.

Sleep doesn’t come easily once I’m under the covers. I’m not sure how long I spend tossing and turning before I finally drift off.

When I open my eyes to find myself standing on the quiet sidewalk near Two Boots, my jaw clenches tightly as my gaze drops to the obsidian dagger in my hand.

Becauselivingthis nightmare wasn’t enough.

A deadly growl snaps my attention upward, and I narrow my eyes at the tweed-wearing demon I killed mere hours ago. His mouth is full of fangs and twisted into a sadistic grin, and his eyes are completely black.

Soulless.

He lunges for me, and I stumble back, gripping the dagger tighter as my pulse kicks up.

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