Page 5 of Demon's Mate
Oh well. He’d be home in the mountains as soon as possible, and everything would smell as sweet as whatever flowers lurked nearby.
Ash surveyed the area. That narrow street to the west was vaguely familiar. Maybe. He headed toward it.
The street was lined with modern shops and restaurants, but the paving stones were old like the ones in the alley behind the library. If only Ash could recognize the exact stones he used to walk along.
He let his instincts guide him until he had the urge to turn left down another narrow street. These buildings were older, and while the ground floors had been renovated, the floors above were familiar. Or weren’t they?
When you remembered cities that had been gone for more than a thousand years, it was hard to be sure. There were too many memories. Usually, Ash kept the past where it belonged, but it was finally catching up to him.
Two centuries of freedom wasn’t long now that it might be coming to an end.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered on. Dante’s place had to be around one of these old corners—well, old for this city at least. The West Coast of North America didn’t have old buildings compared to other parts of the world, and nowhere in the Human Realm had old buildings compared to the Eternal Realm.
What did the Eternal Realm look like these days? Ash shook his head. He’d never find out, damned as he was. Why bother thinking about it?
He kept walking.
Halfway down the block, Ash stopped short, an image leaping from the depths of his mind. This was it. The wornstone building looked pretty much exactly as it had. There weren’t even shops on the ground floor.
Ash crossed his arms and glowered at the building from the sidewalk across the narrow street. Dante’s scent was undetectable, so he hadn’t been here in at least a year.
He scrutinized the structure with his demon sense. No magic? Really? Then why wasn’t the place inhabited by humans? He delved deeper, letting his most primal instincts, the part of him that was pure magic, come to the surface.
Yes, there it was. A spell. It was skillfully masked, so at least Dante wasn’t being careless. Ash hadn’t expected any less. Dante had always been responsible. However, it’d have been more prudent to sell the building, leaving no magic behind, no matter how well hidden, and let some human take the place over.
A dark-gray bird landed on the building’s awning and tilted its head, looking at Ash. His blood heated as his demon fire flared. Damn shearwaters. They didn’t usually fly this far into the city. Not like seagulls did.
Shearwaters were seabirds and naturally stuck to the coastline, spending most of their lives migrating around the globe’s oceans. Except for the shearwaters here. They’d always behaved strangely, and it was no surprise to see one this far from the water. But it was annoying.
At least it was summer, when the birds were meant to be in this part of the world, and not winter, when they were supposed to be breeding in the Southern Hemisphere. The infernal things caused confusion among marine biologists, who couldn’t figure out why the sooty shearwaters of Shearwater Landing defied the migratory patterns of the rest of their species.
Ash knew exactly why, not that any biologist would believe him. He waited as the bird eyed him with a keenness that didn’t quite pass as natural.
Suddenly, the bird took flight, dark-gray wings flapping as it rose into the sky.
Maybe Ash should have stayed invisible so he could have followed it without the people on the street noticing. It would have saved him from buying this silly shirt, but he hated walking through crowds when no one could see him. It was hard not to bump into people, and his intimidating height and build meant that when he was visible, people naturally made way for him.
As arrogant as it was, he preferred it that way.
Ash scanned the sky, the bird almost out of sight. He could find a place to disappear and follow the bird. Maybe behind Dante’s house?
“What are you scowling about?” asked a familiar voice.
Ash turned. Dante leaned against a lamppost, grinning.
“I’m not scowling.”
Dante laughed. “Sure you’re not, brother.”
They were brothers by choice, not blood. Hearing the familiar term shouldn’t have stirred up feelings, but Ash’s chest warmed. Almost like he’d been lonely. “I see you’re as chipper as ever.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Dante cocked his head tauntingly. He had thick, curly black hair and black eyes that looked truly terrifying when they glowed, even with his more delicate face.
Ash and Dante shared the same brown skin, but that was it. Dante was slightly shorter and less bulky. Though, to be fair, everyone was less bulky than Ash, whose dark-brown hair only had a slight wave—barely noticeable when it was short—and whose brown eyes were dominated by a burnt-orange coloring.
“You didn’t feel it?” Ash asked.
Dante’s smooth brow furrowed.
