Page 17 of Demon's Bane

Her reasoning makes her earlier warnings about staying hidden easier to understand, but I can’t help riling her a little further. When the only way we seem to have an actual conversation is when we’re arguing, how can I resist?

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t take this glamour off, go back in there, and let them all get a glimpse of the demon beneath?”

The words are low, just as quiet as hers, and I’m rewarded by the widening of her eyes, the little catch in the back of her throatthat makes me wonder about all the other noises she might make when we—

“Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?”

It’s a valiant effort on my little mate’s part. Stern is a good look on her, but it’s undermined by the breathless edge in her words.

“Never,” I assure her, and delight even further in the way she bristles at the lie.

“What happened to playing by my rules and following my lead? I don’t remember agreeing to let you skulk around my shop.”

“I wasn’tskulking.”I absolutely was, but I’m not about to admit it, not when I’ve got her talking. “And I also don’t remember agreeing to be a prisoner in your home. Some might call it inhumane, keeping an innocent demon locked up in solitary confinement.”

“You’re not my prisoner.”

“I’m not?” I tease. “Then what am I?”

At the shift in tone, the corner of Joan’s lip tugs upward.

I’m transfixed by it. It’s only the ghost of a smile, barely more than a twitch, but I’m powerless to stop myself from dropping my gaze to let it linger there.

A crackle of magick in the air around us.

Slight, but undeniable. Enough that Joan seems to notice it too as she takes a half-step back and folds her arms over her chest, a barrier for whatever it is she doesn’t want to let me see.

“You’re my… guest.”

“Alright.” I can accept being her guest. For now. “Then, in the spirit of hospitality, you should know your guest is about half a day from going mad from lack of stimulation. There’s only so many faerie stories and conversations with your creature one demon can take.”

Another shift in her expression, a widening of her smile and a softening of her features.

“Poe is very good company.”

“I’m sure he is, if you’re fond of being watched like prey.”

Joan makes a sound, something I might almost call alaugh, and my wits scramble again.

“Alright,” she relents. “You can hang out in the shop.Withyour glamour. And as long as you play it cool and… I don’t know, try to at least act human.”

“Act human,” I muse. “How might I do that?”

She looks me up and down. “Maybe start by not spouting off about any realms but this one. Keep your eyes on your book and try not to weird anyone out.”

“I think I can manage that.”

She nods, still studying me.

“What?” I can’t help but ask after a few more moments of her inspection.

“Nothing. Just trying to decide how likely it is this glamour Esme whipped up is good enough to convince people you’re human.”

I look down at myself, vainly lamenting yet again how different I am in this borrowed form. “Since humans don’t know what demons are or what they look like, what’s there to worry about? Perhaps we look just as mundane as you.”

Joan arches a brow. “Uh, yeah, sure. Except for wings and tails and horns and satanic eyes, demons could definitely pass for humans.”

“You’ve… seen a demon before?”

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