But he already knew why. It was because he’d begun to lose hope he’d ever be summoned again. He’d thought the Book must have been lost or somehow destroyed, no matter that it was supposed to be indestructible.
But clearly not. Sascha had found it.
Sascha had saved him.
He made his way back to the living room. There was his symbol, painted in… Kai picked up the bottle with one clawed hand and sniffed at it, immediately recoiling at the chemical scent. He’d seen this same color on Sascha’s fingernails.
Thiswas what Sascha had painted himself with? How strange.
Kai set the bottle aside, far out of reach. There, next to his symbol—the Book. Kai stared hard at its leather covering, as if to glean its secrets. He couldn’t touch it himself—no demon held within its pages could, lest they attempt to tamper with their own mark.
After a time, he sighed, diverting his gaze. There were no secrets to be learned there, other than the mess Sascha had made of crumpled newspaper and spilled nail paint.
Kai went from room to room after that. He fiddled with the television, turning it on before immediately shutting it off when he was met with painted women screeching at each other from couches. They sounded a bit like Sascha when he was worked up.
After that he played for a while with the burners on the stove. He supposed it was impressive that humans had figured out a way to summon fire in an instant.
But then again, Chaos could do the same, and he didn’t need a stove to do it.
Kai spent a good amount of time searching the cabinets for coffee, but Sascha had been truthful: there was none to be found. He’d have to ask Sascha who made it for him—he certainly hadn’t been lying either about the house holding no servants.
Overall, Kai recognized more than he’d thought he would. He must have absorbed quite a bit vicariously from the others’ viewings. Maybe it wouldn’t be hopeless. He could ask Sascha to fill him in on the rest.
Sascha.
Kai’s hand kept returning to his chest, over the place where the soul piece resided. He found himself strangely impatient for the human to wake. He’d never been that way before—it was usually a relief when his bargains slept, their demands on hold for a number of hours.
But he found himself returning to the bedroom and pulling up a chair. Watching. Waiting.
He told himself it was for Sascha’s protection—Kai didn’t yet know who the pup’s enemies were. It was best to stick close, so as not to muck up the contract.
Yes, that was the reason for his vigilance.
Nothing more.
5
Sascha
Sascha woke with a start, eyes blinking open to soft morning light.
Huh. He must have forgotten to close the curtains last night.
He was tempted to roll over and go back to sleep—it wasn’t like he had anything he had to do today anyway. Or any day, for that matter. And he’d had such a weird fucking dream: a big, hot, horned demon promising him protection or vengeance or whatever.
And if he was going to dream about built, beautiful monsters, couldn’t those dreams be about them fucking him into the mattress? Otherwise, what was the point? Maybe if he closed his eyes again and thought real hard about thick, muscled arms and huge pecs and bare—
“You’re awake.”
Sascha shrieked, eyes flying back open.What the fuck.
He looked to the side. There was that same massive blue beast sitting in his bedroom chair, staring at him with glowing blue eyes.
Once, as a child, Sascha had woken to his dad at his bedside, loaded gun in hand.
He wasn’t sure which experience was more disconcerting, really.
“Oh God,” he moaned when some furious blinking didn’t make the apparition go away. “You’re real.”
