She looks startled. “You? Why?”
“Because I might be able to decrease the risk,” he says, and he leans forward. “If JJ goes into the bond focusing on a specific memory—a memory with him and Cass, one where they’re on equal footing—and I can help him maintain it, then it might modulate the power imbalance between them. Bring their souls into closer alignment, so to speak.”
Ez’s eyes dart around like she’s reading an invisible spell book in the air. “That… could work, actually,” she says, and she glances at JJ. “It would have to be an important memory, though—themost important memory you have with Cass. Can you think of anything like that?”
JJ’s thoughts immediately shoot back to this morning, to Cass kissing his way down JJ’s belly while the warm sun and the cool breeze curled across JJ’s skin. Just as quickly, though, he discards the idea. It’s not that it wasn’t an important memory, of course, but?—
But it’s just not the one he needs. It was special and private and beautiful, and JJ is going to treasure it for the rest of his life, but it felt more like the natural culmination of everything they’ve been through thanthemost important memory he has with Cass. He mentally flips through the past few months, searching for the best memories, the most meaningful ones, all the way back to the hard-eyed demon rifting out of JJ’s bedroom with Desi in tow?—
Inspiration strikes. “How about,” he says slowly, looking up at Ez and Obie, “the day we met? Not when he first took Desi, but when we got together at DJ Ice Cream to discuss joint custody a few days later?”
Obie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Good choice. I know that one is important to him, too. We might actually have a chance at this.”
Neither of them looks nearly as confident as JJ wants them to be in this situation. He swallows hard. “All right. What do I have to do?”
“Lie down next to him and hold his hand.” Ez’s voice wavers the slightest bit as JJ complies, threading his fingers through Cass’s. “A physical connection might help to stabilize the bond. And then…” She takes JJ’s other hand in her own before grabbing Obie’s, too. “Obie, this should link you into the spell.”
Obie nods, closing his eyes. Even though he’s not touching JJ, JJ could swear that he feels the demon rifling through his memories again, finding the one he needs and imbuing it with strength. “Ready.”
Unexpectedly, Desi grabs Cass’s other hand. “I want to help, too!” she protests, waggling her fingers towards Obie. “We can make a circle, Uncle Obie!”
JJ’s stomach lurches. “Sweetie, that might not be?—”
“It’s fine,” Ez cuts in, nodding at Obie. Eyebrows furrowed, he takes Desi’s hand in his own. “There’s no danger of the soul bond hurting her, and circlesdohave a certain amount of power in spellcasting. Also—” She hesitates, considering. “Since the memory is about Desi, having her nearby might make it more effective.”
“We can hope,” Obie says, and his gaze meets JJ’s. “Close your eyes, JJ. Close your eyes and focus on the memory.”
Taking a deep breath, JJ obeys. He thinks about the broad strokes—the anxiety of pacing around outside of the strip mall, the note with the date and time written in bloodred ink, the chill of the air inside DJ Ice Cream—before adding in the tiny details, like the chip in his plastic chair and the warm scent of hot fudge and the glint in Cass’s eyes when he ordered JJ to get them a table. And then?—
“Look, are you pissy because I have ice cream and you don’t?”
Demons don’t dream.
“Your butt really does look nice in those jeans. And you’re a damn good father, too.”
They can have nightmares, sure.
“Stupid human. You thought imprisonment and impending execution could get rid of me?”
But nightmares usually only last a few years before subsiding.
“I’ll handle all the little details for now.”
And demons certainly don’t relive their memories whenever they close their eyes.
“But I’ve actually never sparred with these before. Do you want to?”
Something is wrong.
“I will always want you here. That bedroom belongs to you, and this house is your house.”
These aren’t Cass’s memories.
“Hate is learned. It’s not innate. I think both of us still have some unlearning to do, lackey.”
They’reJJ’smemories.
“Well, maybe I’m trying to impress you with my esoteric knowledge of Redwater’s food truck culture.”
