The Hearts We Sold(21)

“You mean those things you have to wash?” James beamed at her.

Cora picked up a disposable plastic butter knife and began cutting a bagel. Well, cutting was perhaps too generous a word, Dee thought. Shredding, maybe.

“Dee’s practically an old pro at this,” said James. “She helped us in the hospital. Not sure if you need to give her the usual lecture.”

Dee glanced between Cora and James, taking in their rapid-fire quips. It was clearly a regular occurrence, Cora coming here and complaining about the cutlery. Even James’s and Cora’s jibes felt blunted, as if the insults had lost their edge over time.

“How long ago did you make your deal?” Dee asked, looking at Cora.

Cora straightened. “I was the first heartless in Portland. That’s why I’m in charge. Seniority.”

“And your being naturally bossy didn’t come into it at all.” James smirked.

“And your being naturally lazy also had nothing to do with it,” Cora replied smoothly. She put one mangled half of a bagel into the toaster. “No wonder the Daemon didn’t want you in charge.”

She pronounced it differently than Dee did, and she could almost hear the capital letter. “You mean the demon?”

“Don’t call him that,” said James. He walked to the counter, reaching for the bagels. He picked one flavored with dried onions. “He doesn’t like it.”

Dee felt herself frown. “What’s the difference between demon and Daemon?”

A new voice spoke. “One hard vowel.”

Cal strolled into the apartment, his hands shoved in his pockets, smiling at Dee.

“Dee, you remember Cal,” said James, waving his hand in a lazy introduction.

Cal sat beside Dee. “You know,” he said, “I don’t think I ever got your full name. It isn’t really Dee, right?”

“Deirdre Moreno,” said Dee, after a moment’s hesitation. She always felt a little self-conscious; she had been the last person in her first-grade class to be able to properly spell their own name. “I was named after my grandmother.”

“You have no idea how lucky you are,” replied Cal. “Carroll was the name of some dead uncle. And apparently, I was a difficult birth, so my mother decided to curse me with it.”

“Seems little has changed since then,” said James brightly.

Cal gave him a narrow-eyed look. “And when was the last time you showered?”

James took another bite of bagel.

“Well,” said Cora, ignoring the boys, “we’re glad to have you, Dee. I suppose you’ll need our numbers.” Without asking, she reached out and took Dee’s purse. It was half open, and before Dee could utter a word, Cora fished a cheap cell phone from it. “I’ll give you our contact info and loop you in on the troop texts.”

“Troop?” repeated Dee, sure she had heard Cora wrong.

Cora took a delicate bite of bagel, chewed, and swallowed before speaking. “We’re the Daemon’s Portland troop of heartless. There are other troops, in different places around the country—a few international ones, too.”

“Like the one I transferred from,” said James.

Cora ignored him. “Dee, if you want the basics, here they are: Three people are needed to destroy the voids. When a void appears—and it doesn’t happen that often, maybe once every few weeks—the Daemon will fetch us. Two people will carry the explosives into the void, get them to the center of it, and then set off the trigger. The third person stands in the mouth to ensure that when the void starts to explode—”

“Implode,” said Cal. “It does not explode, it implodes.”

“—Implode,” said Cora. “The third person keeps the mouth of the void steady so the other two can escape.”

A memory came back to Dee—that inhuman leg, there one moment and gone the next. No one had mentioned things living in the voids.

“What are they?” she said. “The voids, I mean.”

Cora, Cal, and James all went silent. A look was exchanged, one heavy with meaning. “Thing is,” said James, “we don’t really know that. I mean, we have our theories, but…”

Dee drew in a breath. “And what are your theories?”

Cora spoke first. “I think they’re doors,” she said. “A temporary portal into another… world, I guess you could say. And the Daemon uses us to close those doors. So obviously what’s on the other side is a threat to him.” She lowered her lashes, and spoke more quietly. “What is the natural enemy of a demon?”

Oh.

Well.

That wasn’t gut-clenchingly terrifying at all.

“Angels,” Dee said flatly. “You think we’re slamming doors on angels?”

But that didn’t make sense. What she’d seen in the void wasn’t at all angelic, not unless stories about angels had been wildly inaccurate.

“That’s one theory,” said Cal with a little nod. “I still think the so-called demons are actually very advanced aliens. The voids could be a warping of reality used to travel long distances in a matter of moments.”

“But then how do you explain the magic?” said Cora.

Cal chewed absentmindedly on the edge of his paper cup. “Well, if you sent us back in time a few hundred years, I’m pretty sure our phones would be considered magic, as well.”