Chapter Five

Silas

“Oh, you poor wee thing. You need some loving, don’t you?” Silas kneeled in the rain-soaked earth, his hands cupping a small seedling that something had clearly stepped on. One of his favorite things was to wander along the river in the mornings, while the mist still lingered and before the sun fully rose, checking on the plant life that grew wherever they could. The river was a favorite among fishermen and many of them didn’t think about where they put their boots, although for the most part they took their rubbish away with them, which Silas and the other forest folk appreciated.

Although the area was free of people, life teamed around Silas as he quietly worked his magic. Birds shook out their soggy feathers and sang to each other, greeting the rise of the sun. Insects flew about getting their own food before the birds started eyeing them up for breakfast. Plants stretched, their roots sinking deep into the soil now enriched from the overnight showers. “It’s just some of you need a bit of magic, too,” he murmured softly.

Silas smiled as the stem straightened under his fingers. Back when he was younger, he used to uproot and move every plant he found that had gotten stepped on carefully, trying to find places where they were less likely to get in the way of footwear. It was Dougal who stopped him from doing that, telling him not to interfere with Mother Nature’s job. It was through Dougal that Silas learned about the forest being its own beautifully balanced ecosystem—some plants grew to be eaten, others to provide shelter, but everything had its season and its reason for being.

After making sure the plant would live another day, or until another boot came along, Silas sat back on his heels, a half-smile curving his lips as he breathed in the peace and beauty around him. He was refreshed. Silas always spent a full day curled up in the branches of his own tree after spending time in town, and he had done that the day before.

His majestic oak was more than twenty feet high and stood lush and sturdy in its spot in the forest. As much as Silas couldn’t ignore his need to sing for an audience, being in town among so many people and their emotions, not to mention the pollutants city living seemed to generate, always left him feeling slightly off-kilter. But a day lolling around on the branches of the oak renewed his spirit, leaving him with a deep feeling of contentment.

At least, that was normally the case. But this time, the demon he’d sung for wouldn’t leave his thoughts. Instead, the intense being penetrated his dreams on both the Friday and the Saturday night, leaving Silas sweaty and with messy sheets when he’d woken up. It wasn’t the first time Silas had such a visceral reaction to another being—Wanda hadn’t been wrong when she said he liked to dream of the men he saw when he was out. Although this time something was different, and Silas couldn’t work out why.

“Here. You look like you could do with this.”

Silas’s smile widened as he tilted his head, peering up at Dougal, who was wearing his typical snarl and his giant overcoat. “You made me mushroom toasties, thank you.” He took the sandwich gratefully, taking a big mouthful as Dougal squatted beside him and bit into a sandwich of his own.

Dougal had been with the forest since its first tree had sprouted centuries before. Considered a troll by any human who saw him, Silas always believed there was a lot more to the grumpy man with his long gray hair, bushy beard, and irregular features. He’d certainly seen more than most people ever would in a hundred lifetimes.

“You might as well spill it,” Dougal said when the sandwiches were finished. He dug into his Coat of Many Pockets—so named by Wanda when she was small—with his large hand and pulled out a flask. “Your energies are all over the place. Something happened in the city.”

“Something is always happening in the city.” Silas inhaled and let out his breath slowly. “What do you know about demons?”

“They’ve got big feet, and they don’t care who they step on. What else would you want to know?” Dougal unscrewed the top of his flask revealing two cups and, settling them on the ground, he poured them both a drink. “More importantly, why would a creature of peace and light be interested in a being of fire and darkness? Someone who would completely squash that wee sapling you’ve rescued this morning with their big toe?”

Silas felt his cheeks heat. “This sapling has still got some growing to do before it can steer clear of footwear. I was just giving it a helping hand.” He took a sip of the drink Dougal had provided. Honey mead was one of his favorites.

“There was a demon at the club the other night. People talked as if he was someone truly important. I didn’t see him as being any more so than any other person, although he was definitely intense. He caught my eye, and he looked stressed, as if he didn’t even want to be at the club, so I sang to him. I like to think he felt more relaxed when I was done, but for some reason, he’s still in my head, and I don’t know why.”

Dougal snorted. “You young ‘uns. I wouldn’t worry about it. Demons have that impact on everybody. They strut around as though they own the ground they walk on. It’s just normal for them. I’m not surprised he’s left an impression on you. You’re at that age, and I’m sure he was a looker. I’m more surprised he only looked and didn’t just come out and tell you he wanted a fuck.”

“I didn’t talk to him.” Silas was sure his cheeks were glowing. “He was sitting right at the front by the stage with his date—she was stunning, too. Another demon. I just sang and left like I always do.”

“Hmm.” Dougal cradled his cup. “If he caught and held your eye, I’d say his date wasn’t overly important to him, and that’s part of being a demon, too. They can’t help it. They’re fickle, and that’s just part of their lore as well. But if he was interested in you, and because he noticed you, I’d say that was a given, then I wouldn’t be surprised if he was asking around after you left for your contact details.”

“I doubt he’d do that.” Silas was fairly sure the demon’s statuesque date was far more the man’s type than he’d ever be. The woman was not only attractive, but she had that confidence in knowing no one would ever ignore her. “Branson said the demon wanted to talk to me, but apparently, he was only interested in signing me up so I could sing in other places. I didn’t see the point in interrupting his date night when I had no intention of singing anywhere else.”

“Demons don’t like being told no,” Dougal warned. “I guarantee you that guy will hound Branson for your phone number or address, even if it’s just so he can tell you he wasn’t interested in you, especially if you walked out on him.”

Silas burst out laughing. “That’s so silly, I didn’t walk out on him,” he pointed out, because Silas wasn’t the type of person to leave someone like that. “Why would anyone waste their time like that on me? Branson, Monica, and even Crave all told me that the demon has countless people who already sing for him. He doesn’t need anyone else. I can’t see him hunting me down just to tell me to my face he wouldn’t sign me. What good would that do?”

“Who knows when it comes to demons? There’s no reasoning with them when they get an idea in their heads.” Dougal shook his head, and Silas wondered if his friend had any dealings with demons in the past.

“It wouldn’t matter if the demon asked Branson for my contact details, anyway.” Silas patted Dougal’s arm. “Remember, I told you. I had to sign a form when I started singing at the club for accounting reasons or something like that. George offered for me to use his number and address, seeing as we don’t have phones out here and it’s not like I’ve got a letterbox anyone can send me mail to.”

“That bear is good to all of us in the forest.” Dougal nodded, approval showing in his smile. “I can’t say I have many dealings with the things that go on in the city, but I’m more than happy to share a drink with that bear when he wants time in his fur.”

“That’s because George brings you marshmallows.” But Silas laughed as he teased, feeling that sense of connection and family as he always did when he thought of how all his friends and siblings looked out for each other. “Face it, my friend. That demon can have his fancy clothes, and his gorgeous dates. He can travel the world and hook up with whoever he pleases.”

Silas wasn’t sure why his heart hurt at the last bit, but he plowed on. “You and I, all of us in the forest share something far more special, far more enduring than money or power. We have roots, and they are solid.”

“A demon can put down roots.” Silas could sense Dougal was trying to be fair to another type of being—that was the type of person he was. “It’s very rare, but there are stories of a demon who loses his heart to another, and if that ever happens, they never break that commitment. It’s just not easy for them. A demon and his human side are two distinct personalities, and for a bond to take, both sides have to have an equal attraction to the focus of their obsession—an equal desire to commit beyond a fuck.”

“I hadn’t even considered that was possible. All stories about demons emphasize how they never care for their companions.”

“They can care, just not often.” Dougal waved his cup in Silas’s direction. “Imagine what it’d be like to be two distinct voices in one body. Oh, I know shifters are similar, but one of their souls is strongly attuned with nature, and they operate in sync with each other almost automatically.”

“Like George,” Silas agreed. “Both of his spirits are grumpy sweethearts.”

“Don’t let George hear you call him that.” Dougal chuckled before finishing off his drink.

“Have you ever…” Silas hesitated. He didn’t want to pry, but he could sense Dougal knew a lot more than he was saying. “Have you ever had a close encounter with a demon?”

Dougal’s snort was explosive. “It is far too early in the morning for a discussion of that nature, and besides, the people I have a close encounter with are looking for a challenge, not a night of dancing under the stars. Yes, there have been a few demons who’ve taken up that challenge in the past—I’m not blind to their lure either. But you don’t see me mooning over them once the sun rises.”

“I’m not mooning over the demon from the club.” And then, because Silas was always honest, he added, “I just thought it was unusual the amount of times I think about him in a day.”

Patting his knee, Dougal said, “I’ve already said, that’s perfectly normal. The thing you need to remember is that it takes a very special type of creature for a demon to trust enough to let down their guard—a person that both sides of the demon would want on an equal basis. In a lot of cases, it’s the human that’s the problem. They see the world and everyone in it as people they can use to their own advantage. Contracts, deals, and what they can get from anyone in their circle of influence.”

“That sounds awful.” Silas frowned, thinking about how that idea fit with the man he’d seen in the club. “Stressful.”

“Exactly. So, as much as this demon made an impression on you, it’s likely your song had the same effect on him. The good thing about impressions is that they fade if you give them enough time.” Dougal grunted as he got to his feet. “Come on, young sapling, let’s check things out down by the fork of the river. I think there were campers there last night, and not everyone thinks to take their rubbish away with them.”

Silas was glad of the distraction. He fully believed everything Dougal said, but it didn’t stop him wondering, as they followed the river edge together, how long it might take for an impression to pass.

He really didn’t want to wash his sheets every morning. If Wanda noticed, he’d never hear the end of it. Well, it’s not like I’m going to see him again, anyway. A thought that wasn’t as reassuring as he’d intended it to be.