The Hearts We Sold(67)

“I’m calling it Salvation,” said James. “Probably going to sell it to an old man who’s obsessed with Rafael. He’ll love it.” He grinned at Dee. “Yeah, I know. It’s pretty ironic.”

“Where’s Riley?” asked Dee, glancing around the apartment.

“She’s enrolled at some community college. She says she’s been taking classes ever since she left home. Basic courses, so she can transfer into a better school later.”

“How old is she?” asked Dee, curious. There wasn’t exactly a lot of time for personal questions that first night; Dee had been too busy getting grilled by Gremma.

“Seventeen,” answered James. “But she said she left home a year before that. She got her GED while couch-surfing. But her last friend was… well, not too thrilled about the whole demon thing. That’s why she needed a place to stay.”

James took her hand and squeezed. “I get it. The whole not-wanting-to-stay-at-home thing. I mean, I didn’t have birth parents who kicked me out—so on the one hand, I think I had it easier than you and Riley.”

Her stomach twisted. “My parents didn’t… well. I’m not sure they did kick me out. I almost wish they had,” said Dee. “Like, maybe if they really did kick me out, then it would mean I wasn’t overreacting. But maybe they’re right, maybe it isn’t as bad as I think it is—”

Fire blazed behind James’s eyes. “You are not overreacting,” he said hotly. “Fuck that. And fuck them for making you feel that way.” He gently tugged at her hand, until she sat beside him on the couch. His hip was pressed to hers, but all he did was weave their fingers together, his grip secure but not too tight. “That’s how they sucker you back in. They make you think that it wasn’t so bad, that they really love you, that it’ll be different. But it never is, not unless they’re willing to change.” He looked at Dee. “You think they’ll change?”

She answered without needing to think about it. “No. Not unless something drastic happens.”

He nodded. “Then you’re not overreacting. And you don’t have to go back there, not if you don’t want to.”

A startled little laugh escaped her. “Are you offering me a place, too? Don’t you think it’d be a little too… sitcom-y if I moved in with you and Riley?”

He returned her smile. “Do you have any other family? I mean, besides your parents?”

If he wanted the technical answer, that would be a yes. She had distant aunts and uncles—all her grandparents were dead, but there were cousins that she’d seen at family reunions. No one in the state, no one close. But they did exist.

Those distant relatives could have helped her. But they hadn’t acted. For whatever reasons, they’d left her there—maybe it was easier to not get involved, maybe they had their own problems. Whatever the reasons, no help had come from them.

Gran would’ve helped.

“No,” she said. “No other family.”

James let the subject drop. He went back to his canvas, and for a while Dee watched as he painted. It was mesmerizing to watch as he cast colors across the canvas, every gesture sure and graceful. She could almost see why he would sell his heart for this—it was beautiful, the way he lost himself to the work. This was where he found his solace.

“You know,” he remarked as he worked on the angel’s wing, “it’s kind of creepy when you stare at me like that.”

“It’s not creepy. It’s… attentive.”

“I can see you out of the corner of my eye.” But he was smiling when he said it. “Just staring.”

“Oh, hush,” she said, and nudged him with her shoulder. He put down the paintbrush and turned to face her. His hands came up, lightly pressed between her shoulder blades.

“You are a distraction,” he told her. “An adorable distraction, but a distraction.”

She grinned and leaned in.

And then her phone buzzed loudly.

“Don’t answer it,” groaned James.

But Dee was already fishing it out of her pocket. “I can’t not answer it. It bugs me when I know I have messages waiting.”

James watched as she opened the text.

Cora: We need to talk.

Dee’s stomach bottomed out. James went somber at once. “What does she want?”

Dee hurriedly typed a reply. What’s up?

Her phone buzzed again. This is the longest we’ve ever gone without being contacted by the Daemon. And he’s not answering any of my messages.

And then, a moment later, I think he’s abandoned us.

Dee passed over her phone and let James read the message.

“No,” said James. “He wouldn’t just leave us. Not like this. Not like—”

His hand went to his chest.

Dee swallowed; all the happiness had gone out of her. “Has any troop ever attacked the Daemon before?” she asked.

James looked away and did not answer.

Another text came in: We need to meet up. I have a plan.





THIRTY-TWO


T hey met at the abandoned bank.

James unlocked the front doors and they took flashlights and lanterns and ventured into the decrepit building. Riley had never seen it before and she eyed the walls with curiosity rather than disgust. Cora picked her way through the rubble with delicate care, like a cat trying not to get its feet wet. Dee saw a rat scurrying along the floor, sniffing at a piece of wreckage.