Page 82 of The Prince of Demons

He slid the dagger into a sheath, then presented it to me. It was one of mine. I must have dropped it during practice. “More like a dangle of hope for something they could never achieve. And given that you, mischievous one, are currently a mortal among immortals, it doesn’t seem like these ‘fairytale’ creatures have separated much from humans at all.”

“Wouldn’t you have wanted the option to choose? “

“I make questionable choices every day,” he said, pulling me forward by a lock of hair.

I grabbed a fistful of his hair in return, and, at his overjoyed expression, yanked it toward the other side of the library, where an ancient map of the island hung.

“What are the green spots on the map?”

I’d been staring at it for hours between studying sessions and had nobody else to question. If I didn’t figure it out, I might go crazy.

He waved my hands off his head. “That is the garden of prosperity. Magic created fruit so sweet it rivaled candy, trees that reached to heaven, and animals so wild they would delight any zoologist. That’s what you study, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I like learning about exotic animals and otherworldly creatures,” I said, mind wandering to the zoo I spent most of my time in on campus.

“I must be fascinating to you, then.”

Charmer. “Don’t flatter yourself. What happened to the garden?”

The maps we covered in our history class only mentioned it as the Barren Fields.

“Take a guess.”

“Demons razed it to the earth?”

He snorted. “That's the impression they want to give.”

“As opposed to what?”

“I know the past of this place well enough. You mortals can barely keep a memory alive for more than one generation without someone else rewriting it.”

“The memory of what? Some magic paradise? Forgive me if that seems a little far-fetched.”

“You can figure it out, shrewd seraphim. Don’t let me down.”

* * *

Reaper becamescarce as weeks passed. Sam, the most visible shadow I had, followed me from place to place. I complained to Reaper via text, and he said he couldn’t control her whereabouts. No proper conversations passed between us. Day after day, I had peace from him, save for the occasional message. It was actually kind of relaxing. I fell into the familiar patterns of school, studying, resting instead of shadow training, then to bed. I even looked forward to Sam’s familiar flap of wings. It was nice to have company that wasn’t of the handsome variety.

So when Reaper stopped responding altogether, I felt an uncomfortable pit in my stomach. I checked my phone a couple more times throughout the day. Nothing. Empty.

What’s up?I almost texted. I deleted it before I hit send. One didn’t just greet the carrier of corpses withWhat’s Up?I wasn’t a sleazy siren.What’s up?was what you texted to an ex at witching hour after one too many seltzers.

So… how do I contact him? Should I? My thumb tapped my phone screen as if that would bring him back. It was 4 P.M. He always texted me by 4 P.M. It was right after my last class let out.

Are you alive?I almost sent.

Stars, that was worse. Had he ever been alive? Could he be alive? Or was he like an undead ghost? Maybe I’d ask him that. Take a couple of shots and start getting nosy with my knowledge gaps.

“Maybe you should get a hobby,” Gaksi suggested, “other than stalking your boyfriend.”

“My whom? He’s not a boy. Not even a friend!”

“I heard the panic in your thoughts there,” Gaksi countered.

“I’m busy,” I told him and busied myself with cleaning my apartment instead.

I’d compiled such a stockpile of information about Reaper that Flora wasn’t a concern, but it left me wanting.

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