by Zoe Parker
He’s frowning and almost looks sad. His thoughts are far away, and she hesitates to interrupt him. Then she hears the muttering. Devil is working a spell, something he’s incredibly good at, and now she knows why. A circle of white appears on the wall, and she recognizes a viewing spell.
The vague outline of a form appears and slowly starts to sharpen. She gasps when she sees a white-haired, muscular man with startling eyes similar to Sora’s. The bottom of Sora’s stomach drops out, and she’s in the room before she can stop herself.
Devil curses under his breath, and the image disappears.
“Who the fuck was that?” she demands.
“Looks like you’re getting all the answers you wanted so badly; it’s the only way to truly explain.” He sounds resigned but not upset.
“I have a right to some of them, don’t I?” Given the direction of their lives and how much they depend on each other, secrets–at least between the two of them–can’t survive any longer.
She seats herself at the end of the unused bed and crosses her legs, leaning towards him and giving him her entire attention.
Devil opens his mouth, but she interrupts him. “You can skip the part about being a construct. We’ve already gone over this, remember?” He sticks his tongue out at her.
“Way to ruin the beginning of the story, Sora,” he chides, and she shrugs.
“Even before the warehouse incident, I knew something was up, and looking back, I can see it now. You’ve sprinkled cryptic comments here and there since I was a kid. How dense do you think I am?”
“I’m merely disappointed I don’t get to shock and awe you.”
“Quit bunny trailing.” He smiles.
“That person you saw is a construct. All of them have white hair, height, and enhanced physical abilities. In essence, perfect physically. The only difference is their facial features and power levels. The latter depends on the sorcerer who made them, while the former depends on their biological mother.”
“Constructs have mothers?” Sora asks and immediately feels stupid for asking. He’s looking at her like she took his favorite toy and won’t share.
“In a sense, yes. We were made in her womb with magic, growing incredibly rapidly… and at our birth, the host dies.” Her first instinct is to reach out to him, but there’s no emotion when he says it. Devil has learned many things since becoming a guardian, but he isn’t mourning someone he never met.
Her heart does in his place.
“After birth, constructs are placed in a coma-like sleep while they grow, reaching adulthood in a matter of months. The sorcerers need the body and mind calm while weaving their magic into them… us. To allow them to be awake usually results in their premature deaths and are considered a failure of the sorcerer. It took them a while to realize this, and many constructs died in the process.” Anger makes his voice thick, but he still isn’t looking at her, and she knows that for whatever reasons he kept this to himself, some of it was purely because it’s painful to him.
“That’s sad. I’m sorry you went through that,” Sora says, reaching a hand out for him but dropping it midway. He doesn’t want her comfort; not yet.
“During this process, the sorcerer also takes physical items for a binding spell in order to control their created construct. However, the spell doesn’t work one hundred percent of the time, and in the end, several managed to slip the tethers of their handlers.” He turns to look at her, and there’s a deep sadness that she’s never seen in his eyes before. Trauma. “Before you ask, yes, I was one of those. It’s how I ended up where you found me, but that’s a story for another day.”
Slowly, he floats towards her and stops just shy of her face. He smiles, and she sees every ounce of love he has for her there before it fades away to be replaced by the pain from memories long past.
“When they were at war, we were their greatest weapon. Sent in to kill at the cost of our own lives. Sacrifices for their greater good and not all of us were on the ‘good guys’ side of the war–not that there was a good side in that war. When the then-leader of the sorcerers came up with the spell to end the war, the world stood up with him, and with that, we became a threat instead of a tool.” The corners of his mouth turn down in disgust. “They started killing us, our creators, using the magic from that to fuel the spell that would be cast to make everyone forget about the war and put an end to it once and for all. But we weren’t enough. There had to be other sacrifices made. And like I told you before, most people volunteered, but not all.”
“I did as my master bade, even went so far as to slaughter my own kind until one day… I couldn’t anymore. So, I rebelled.”
“Did you at least have allies?” She can see some of the things he’s leaving out through the cracks. The pain of killing his own kind, potentially even ones he cared about. Of thinking he was doing the right thing only to find out he wasn’t.
That would be hard on anyone.
“I was their General, Sora. I had an entire construct army at my disposal.” She wasn’t expecting that. Imagining him as a leader of anything is hard, but looking at him closely now, she can see that power in his eyes. That command. “I was arrogant, trusted foolishly, and thought I could overthrow our masters and earn our freedom. My dream was to take my people and disappear into obscurity, much like those left live in now. The spell they were planning to cast wouldn’t affect my kind, so I knew people would forget. But then, I died, and well, now I’m before you as this.”
“Do you think any others still live like the rumors and legends say?”
“I imagine so. There were thousands of us fighting on both sides.”
“I’m sorry, Devil.” It feels cheap saying it, but she means every word.
“Sorcerers aren’t nearly as long-lived as most supernatural species; I doubt any from that time are left–at least naturally. There are magics they can use to prolong their lives, but the cost is great, and most won’t pay it. For that, I’m thankful. Most sorcerers hide behind a façade of goodness and strength in front of the world, but really, they’re all cowards who use their magic to scare people into submission. It was them who started the war and them who panicked and ended it.”
“One day, I would love to know what the world was like before. No one can remember that I know.”
“We need to be really drunk,” he says, smiling for the first time.
“That’s fine. I’ll sniff a cup of beer and dissolve into giggles and stagger around the room with my dildo sword.” She brandishes her invisible sword at him.
“Now that’s what I call a good time!” he says, surging forward into her arms where she cradles him against her.
“Devil?”
“Hmm?”
“We can’t tell anyone what you are. Not even Hank,” she cautions, knowing this is a secret worth keeping. “And man, you were a hottie.” The image of Devil as a construct is still fresh in her mind. She’s telling the absolute truth. “What happened?”
He snorts. “I went a little too heavy on the keto diet.”
They laugh together and talk about more mundane things, like their new home, until the pull of sleep becomes too great for her, and she curls up in a ball in the center of his bed and passes out with him in her arms.
Chapter Sixteen
Two days later, the pounding on her door drags her from sleep. She looks at the time, and it’s barely five a.m. Concerned she hurries and grabs her robe and staggers to the door. She opens it to discover her mother, who brushes past her coming into the room. Sora looks at her with bleary eyes, debates throwing her out, sighs in defeat, and then shuts the door.
Great. Instead of drinking a lovely cup of hot tea to wake up, I get my mom.
“How did you get in the hotel?” she asks in a voice hoarse from sleep.
“These shifters can’t stop an angry mom from seeing her daughter.” She looks around at the boxes stacked throughout the living room. “Are you moving?”
She internally debates telling
her the truth and then sighs in resignation. It’s her mom. She can’t avoid her forever. “Yes. I bought a house.” Her mom stops snooping in open boxes and turns on her.
“You didn’t tell me you were moving. Where is this house you bought?” she demands, perching on the edge of the couch. She gives the empty soda cans and pizza carton on the table a disgusted look.
“At the fringes of the city. I’ll give you the address once I get settled in.” Maybe. She adds silently. “Mom, why are you here this early in the morning?”
“Can’t a concerned mother check on her only child?” Sora starts to argue and then changes her mind. Anything she says will make her look like an uncaring asshole. “Did you know that your grandfather has gone off on some sabbatical? Tom and I advised him not to, but he was determined. He’s going to keel over at any moment and went to the beach or something. Crazy old coot.”
She did not know her Grandpa Eddie was going anywhere but doesn’t say so out loud. The fact that the only reason her mom cares where he went is that she wants to control what he does with his finances. She’s afraid of him spending all his money. There’s no love lost between the two of them. They don’t like each other and never have.
“How long ago did he leave?”
“A couple of weeks by now. He calls once in a while to talk to your father but won’t listen to our encouragement to come home. The last time he called, he asked about you, then had the nerve to tell me to stay out of your life and stop trying to control you. The nerve of that man to say I kept you on a leash as a child.”
There’s more to the visit than her giving her an update about her grandpa. She stares at her mom until she starts to fidget in her seat.
“What?” she asks, nervous for the first time. “I wanted to check up on you, and you won’t take my calls.” Sora keeps staring at her. “Did you know that your father’s friend from college is coming to town to visit. He’s bringing his two sons with him. They’re close to your age, and I thought you might want to come over for dinner when I have them over.” And there is the real reason for her visit.
“Nope.” That’s all Sora has to say about it.
Her mother’s lips turn down. “But, Sora, you’re not getting any younger…”
“If you were trying to set me up because you genuinely wanted grandchildren, I would be more empathetic to your concerns. That doesn’t mean I’d get married just to make you happy, but I’d understand more.”
Annoyance brings her mother’s perfectly plucked eyebrows together. “You’ve gotten hateful since Max left you.”
“Yet another thing you don’t know about your daughter. He didn’t leave her. She kicked his lying, cheating ass out. You should praise her for it instead of encouraging her to consider the age of her uterus,” Devil verbally lashes out in irritation.
“You’re causing me nothing but problems, Sora May Suen. To add to it is the rift you’ve caused between Tom and me. Your father is still barely speaking to me and is sleeping in his office. You need to tell him that you’re not mad at me anymore so I can get my husband back.” Sora’s first instinct is to kick her out but then decides against it.
She can say enough to make her leave on her own.
“First of all, you need to take care of your own marital problems. They have nothing to do with me. Second of all, I’m not mad at you; I just don’t want to deal with your matchmaking bullshit and prying into my life.” She opts for honesty because that’s usually enough to piss her mom off.
It’s not that she wants her parents to split up. It’s that those are things they need to work on themselves. The fight might be about her, but the problems that led to the fight aren’t.
Her mother sniffs delicately, and Sora knows a subject change is incoming. “A young man stopped by the house yesterday. Claimed to be an old school friend of yours, but for the life of me, I can’t place his face, and I knew all of your friends.” She knew them because she chose them. That means the man wasn’t a friend of hers.
“What did he say?” Sora is growing concerned. She’s pretty sure that it’s someone from the cult who visited them.
“He wanted to know what you were like as a kid, which is strange because if he was your friend, he’d know these things. Then again, I was so shocked that a handsome sin eater like him was interested in you, I didn’t think about it at the time. But your father insisted he leave and told me not to let him in again.” Good job, Dad.
“Mom, have you watched the news lately?” More than likely, she’s only watching the society news. World events aren’t something her mom keeps updated on. But it doesn’t hurt to ask.
“I watch it every morning. You know this, Sora. What does that have to do with the man who stopped over?”
“The serial killer called the Hand, have you seen those reports?” After a moment, her mother nods, full on frowning in worry now. Sora is glad that her mom is starting to pay more attention to the real world and not just the one full of backstabbing and social climbing. “That man who came to the house is connected to them. Don’t allow him near you again… please.”
The frown clears and is replaced by anger. “You’ll say anything to get out of a date, won’t you?”
“Seriously, Mom?” And this is one of the reasons she’s constantly disappointed in her mother. “I don’t need to make up lies to wiggle out of your attempts at matchmaking. I’ll just say no. You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m ridiculous?” she demands hotly, standing. “You’ve abandoned the sin eater ways to live this terrible life surrounded by shifters, and god knows what else. I don’t know you anymore.”
Sora starts to get angry and squashes it. Anger is useless with her mother when she’s like this. She’ll pretend like it’s all Sora’s fault and avoid taking any responsibility for her own actions.
“Go home, Mom. Tell Dad hi for me.” Sora turns away from her mother and starts closing up boxes. She planned on getting up at six anyhow because the movers will be here at eight. Now, she’ll get an early start and get more done.
Instead of leaving, her mom takes off her coat and hangs her purse up before rolling up the sleeves of her expensive cashmere sweater and starts helping close boxes and label them. An unexpected helper in the arduous task of moving. Sora keeps her mouth shut and lets her mom help. It’s better than her bitching the entire time.
Two hours later, with her mom’s surprising help, she finally has a cup of coffee instead of tea because she packed it, while her mother directs the movers around like the drill sergeant she is. Semi-enjoying this time spent with Tammy, she lets her do as she wishes and goes to get dressed.
Sometimes it’s the little things that make her mom happy enough to be tolerated.
When she comes back out, her mom is having a cup of coffee and looking through the pictures of the house she left sitting on the table. “The yard needs some decoration. Probably some new flowers. It’s spacey, and you can do a lot with that much room. I recommend some new stones for the walkway and replacing the chairs on the porch with something more modern.” Tammy has great taste when it comes to yards. It’s probably the closest thing she has to a hobby, and in this, Sora trusts her input. She appreciates it too.
“Feel free to go shopping for those things if you want, and we’ll put them in together.” Why she’s inviting her mom to her new house, she doesn’t know, but at the same time, her mom isn’t evil. Just incredibly pushy and determined to rule the roost, even if it isn’t hers. Despite all of it, she loves her mom, and maybe this will give them a chance to spend some quality, drama-free time together. Either that or she’ll hit her with a bag of mulch. It can go either way.
“I have the perfect colors in mind. Text me your address, and I’ll bring everything next week, and we can work on it together. I don’t suggest you do it without me. You have no eye for these things.”
Maybe she’s not the only one who wants to spend some time together.
“Okay, Mom,” Sora says as her mom engulfs h
er in a brief hug smelling like vanilla. She’s out the door before Sora gets over her surprise.
“That was weird,” Devil comments, having stayed out of her mom’s sight most of the visit.
“A little, but maybe a positive thing too.” She finishes her coffee and throws away the disposable cups and gathers the last of their things. Standing in the doorway, she takes one final look at the suite she’s called home for a while. This place never felt truly like home, so she’s not the least bit sad to leave it behind, or all the baggage that came with it.
She’s got work today and her time with Dirk, and then she can finally step inside her new house and begin the process of making it a home.
The minute her session with Dirk was finished, she heads straight to the house, only stopping long enough to grab them some dinner and drinks. She’s so excited that she’s practically bouncing in her seat. Sora is the type of person who needs roots of some kind to be happy, and now she’ll have them. For as long as she chooses to. No one can take this place away, control it, or take away the importance of it from her.
This is her and Devil’s home now.
Hank gave her the next week off to settle in, and she took it. It’ll take at least that long to unpack and buy everything that the house needs.
She pulls into the driveway and notices all the cars parked along the street and the sides of the driveway. She speeds up to get there quicker in order to make sure everything is okay. George is the first person she sees, followed by the banner behind him that says, Congrats on buying the haunted house! She’s not going to explain that it’s not haunted to them. The rumor of it will keep people from dropping in for random visits, like shifters are often guilty of.
There’s a lot of familiar faces from the bar, and some she vaguely recognizes from her sin eating sessions. When she gets out of the car and George gives her a big hug, lifting her off her feet, she laughs. Her skin tingles, and she looks up, noticing Voss for the first time. He’s the only one who doesn’t look a little antsy. The rest are milling about with genuine smiles on their faces but giving the house nervous looks over their shoulders. He’s looking at the house in interest and curiosity but not fear. She’ll have to ask him about it later.
