Chapter 20

20

C hloe’s phone yanks her to awareness, blasting loud, and she jerks upright, flailing. Her heart pounds, her blood thrums, and for a split second, her eyes see nothing.

Until she blinks, and the world slams into focus.

Daylight streams in through the curtains, casting soft shadows onto the camo patterned walls, and Killian’s asleep, both the human and the demon face slack on the pillows next to her.

And her phone is ringing.

Chloe scrambles to cram her glasses on her face, then picks up the phone, blearily recognizing it as Alette calling.

“Yeah?” She croaks out, and her mouth is dry, far drier than it should be after just a night’s sleep.

A night’s sleep.

She eyes Killian, unsure if he knocked her out or not.

“I’m in the parking lot,” Alette chirps through the phone, because she is always a morning person. “Which room are you in?”

“I’m…” Chloe swings her legs over to the side of the bed, standing up, and Killian jolts awake. “I’ll come down and get you.”

He blinks owlishly at her, the demon face just as uncomprehending as the human.

“No,” he orders, bleary, “don’t leave the room.”

“Or I won’t,” Chloe says with a sigh, flicking the light on in the room. “Why not?”

Killian rubs his face, a startlingly human reaction. “Make sure it’s someone you trust before you leave,” he replies, still sounding half asleep. “Someone could impersonate voices.”

“Okay,” Chloe says, then back to the phone. “Confirm you’re you?”

Alette scoffs through the phone.

“Security, you know, confirm you’re you and not someone trying to pretend they’re you?” Chloe says, then makes a face at the word salad she just said.

“How would I…” Alette trails off, her sigh audible through the phone. “You made me buy that book when you first moved into my house.”

“Good enough for me,” Chloe replies, forcing her feet into her shoes and giving Killian a quelling glare. “Go into the lobby, I’ll meet you there.”

“You shouldn’t,” Killian grumbles, before he rolls to his feet, bouncing slightly.

It’s a little amusing to see a demon so clearly sleep logged.

Chloe clicks off her phone, then runs a hand through her black hair, quickly throwing it into a messy bun. “We know someone was coming, she knew about the book, we’re fine.”

“What book?” Killian asks idly, as Chloe grabs her keycard and stomps her way out of the room.

He follows, of course he does, a step too close in the hallway, but she ignores that.

“Book on cult recovery,” Chloe snips. “I recommend it to everyone who gets away from them, it’s way more useful than any psychology textbook or religious tract.”

She also bullied Alette and Axel into reading it when she first showed up, out of hope they’d accept Gurlien afterwards.

Killian evaluates it, then shrugs contemplatively. “I guess I could see that.”

Another person passes them in the hall, giving Chloe an odd look at talking to herself, and Chloe gives her a thin-lipped smile.

“But wouldn’t it be more analogous to getting out of the drafted American military?” he continues. “Forced conscription, near brainwashing, us versus them combat training and uncontrollable deployment?”

Chleo’s definitely not going to answer that one while in a rural hotel predominantly decorated in camo.

“You can even make the argument that most Americans who end up in the army were conditioned to accept the viewpoints long before they actually began their training,” he says, and she really wishes he wouldn’t. “I would put it closer to that.”

Chloe shrugs her jacket up closer to her ears. “Sure,” she mutters, clattering down the stairs, and she can hear his footsteps behind her, which boggles her mind all the more. That he could make and produce noise, even while not even existing to most people.

She doesn’t understand the physics of it, not one bit, and she doesn't know if she wants to ask Alette or Lyra or anyone to actually explain it to her.

Ambra might have an answer, Terese most definitely wouldn’t, and she doubts she could get Melekai to tell her anything.

The lobby is way more bustling in the morning than it had been any other time she’s been there, kids streaming in between an ice cream machine and the stuffed animals in the museum and exhausted parents trying to check out.

Nobody who might send a scan her way. Nobody watching from the shadows, nobody who might mean them ill.

Killian catches up to her, gripping her by the shoulder. “That was foolish,” he mutters.

“Why?” Chloe asks sunnily, and he wrinkles his nose. “Nobody would expect me, a non-combat mage, to actually go and confront them.”

“Or they might be trying to flush someone out,” he grumbles, and doesn’t exactly let her go but gentles his hand, like he’s keeping contact with her to reassure her.

Before something catches Chloe’s eye, lulling her attention like a fishhook in the cheek.

A glimmer of gold, a flicker of power, right outside the door, before Alette breezes in.

As always, Alette commands attention, with her beautiful black braid and arresting poise, and half the lobby turns and stares at her.

And magic practically drips off of her, glistening on her fingertips and condensing along the hem of her tailored coat.

Killian makes a sound, deep in the back of his throat, and she can’t tell if it’s a good sound or not.

Alette’s eyes flicker to Chloe, then up at Killian, before she tilts her head towards the meager cafeteria, heading there instead without another glance towards them.

“So that’s who you got to give you plans,” Killian murmurs, close to her ear, and Chloe shivers. “Risky, they absolutely keep track of her, they know she’s in the area.”

And given that there was an attack on her compound, Chloe’s a smidgen impressed Alette’s the deliverer of the documents, but she trails to the table anyways.

Alette pours herself a glass of juice from the free area, and even the kids give her a wide berth, but Chloe just heads straight to her booth, plopping down across from her.

“I thought they’d send Gurlien?” Chloe asks, and Killian squeezes in next to her, just like he did the night before.

Alette’s lips twitch at the motion, and her eyes are sharp on the demon. “Ambra wasn’t about to send him someplace he could be in danger, and she couldn’t escape from. Your friend is…twitchy.”

Because even though they’ve lived at Alette’s compound for over a month, Alette still doesn’t refer to them as her friends.

But Alette tilts her beautiful face up to Killian with a long evaluation, and next to her, Killian shifts.

“Zoel says hello,” Alette says deliberately, and Killian makes an unsettled noise, almost on the edge of Chloe’s hearing. “He’d be here himself, but…”

“Bit outside of his territory,” Killian replies, voice low, almost threatening.

“The teleportation black out was a bigger deterrent,” Alette says, still all calm and collected, and Chloe realizes that if she’s been risen from the dead longer than Chloe, she’s almost certainly encountered demons before, knows how to speak to them. “Michelli and Stella weren’t appreciative of your teleportation to the cabin.”

This time, Killian gives her a blank look.

“Michelli’s the Wight?” Chloe asks. “Stella’s mom?”

Alette inclines her head.

So, that’s cool, Chloe literally traveled across the country to get cryptic messages from the Wight and Alette knew her name before she did.

Killian doesn’t say anything regarding that, just a one shouldered shrug, and if Chloe couldn’t feel the tension bleeding off of him, she’d call him casual.

And Alette studies him right back, her face a mask, and Chloe knows from the last month or so that she won’t be the one to break.

“So…did you bring the schema?” Chloe asks, after a long moment of them not breaking eye contact.

“Yes,” Alette says precisely.

“Can you give them to me?” Chloe asks, leading her on. “Or did you just come here to stare?”

This gets Alette to smile, as Chloe knew it would be, but it’s a little vicious, aimed at Killian. “Depends,” she replies, “on how your demon friend reacts.”

Killian sighs. “What does the Wight want me to do?”

“Agree to not go after the Necromancer, for one,” Alette replies, prompt, and gets barely a flicker of a reaction from Killian. “Immediately report any disruptions of magic on that coast, no matter how small. Agree to not harm our friends…”

“…the abominations?” Killian says, dry.

Alette visibly pauses, and Chloe gives her a tiny nod.

“Yes, them, any of them,” Alette says, strict, like she never had any questions about it. “And don’t draw the college’s attention to any of our Wights, spirits, or protected magicians.”

Killian shrugs again, one shouldered. “Sure.”

Chloe expected that much, but the expression of surprise across Alette’s face still amuses her.

“I have no desire to get ripped apart by a Necromancer, I’ve seen the aftermath of what just one of yours will do,” Killian says, ticking off his fingers and casually displaying the fact that he knows there’s now more than one. “Your coast is far more stable than it was after the demon Terese, Zoel should be less up his own ass about it, everyone knows the sheer amount of work you two put into it, nobody in their right mind would try again. We would suffer, too.”

For some reason, it’s a bit viscerally satisfying to see the slow realization cross Alette’s face, that Killian isn’t someone they need to necessarily worry about. That Chloe isn’t a poor judge of character, despite what they may think of her friendship with Gurlien.

“And the abominations would attract too much that I don’t want,” he continues, still idle. “They venture from destructive to insane to pathetic to sad. I don’t want any of that.”

Chloe can see Alette count, come to the same conclusion as she did.

“Yeah, near as I can tell, he knows about at least one more than we do,” Chloe says, and he gives her the barest hint of a smile in return. “He’s encountered at least one personally—”

“—three,” Killian interrupts. “I’ve encountered three.”

“And didn’t get the names of any of them, so I don’t know who they are,” Chloe finishes, then gives him a hard look, and he smirks, face smug. “It’s really inconvenient that demons don’t exchange names.”

“And you won’t give me identifying details,” he challenges right back.

“Zoel says to make you swear,” Alette interrupts, as Killian crosses his arms like he won an argument. “Oh, and to bring Chloe back unharmed once she’s found her friend.”

Killian’s face drops the smile, like it was never there. “I don’t have any interest in harming her,” he says, voice low and dangerous, and all of the hair on the back of Chloe’s neck raises.

“That’s not what I said,” Alette replies sweetly, the same tone of voice she gave Chloe when she originally refused to go after Ambra and Gurlien, back when they didn’t know it would end so nicely. “We don’t want her hurt, no matter the result of her quest.”

Chloe hated that tone of voice then, too.

“I swear I won’t go after your Necromancers, I won’t cause damage to your coast, and I won’t harm or draw attention to your abominations,” Killian says, and there, there’s the tremor of fear in his voice, the one that had been absent for almost the entire conversation. “And I swear that Chloe won’t come to harm from any of my actions or inactions.”

He sits back, staring hard at Alette.

Alette smiles back, small and competent, like she didn’t just bargain with a creature vastly more powerful than either of them.

“Here,” she says, unfolding a packet of thin papers from her inside pocket. “Frederick and Ambra had both been through there in the last year, and Frederick corroborated with a friend who’s still inside.”

Chloe doesn’t miss that she called Maison by the name the college used for him. Anything to obfuscate.

“Do you trust these people?” Killian asks, voice deep, but it’s directly to Chloe.

“What?” Chloe asks. “Oh yeah, absolutely.”

Alette’s eyebrow twitches at that.

He nods, his jaw tight but his eyes intent, before he tosses his attention back to Alette. “I assume Zoel has other questions for me.”

“He wants me to figure out which demon you are, besides just your name,” Alette replies smoothly. “To see what protections we need to give Chloe once this is all done.”

He dips his chin low, staring at Alette, and to Alette’s credit, she winces at his expression.

“You know that someone’s going after bases, right?” Alette asks, leaning forward and lowering her voice. “They don’t just break out of them, they slaughter them.”

“Slaughter?” Chloe asks, her skin prickling.

“They don’t release any prisoners, they don’t evacuate anyone, just…destroy the whole thing.”

Killian makes a disquieted noise in the back of his throat, but Alette keeps eye contact with Chloe.

“They don’t allow anyone out. No research, no knowledge, no innocents. They destroyed an alt school, one of the ones against the college, too. They took down a safe house of Wights out in Kansas, killed everyone, completely destabilized the lines in the area.”

“I’m sure Zoel would have issue with that.”

“They killed a demon,” Alette challenges him. “There was one living with the Wights, offering protection. They slaughtered her, too.”

Killian stills, his face a frozen mask, and Chloe’s heart jumps. “It’s not easy to kill demons without proper force.”

“And yet they did.” Alette sits back crossing her arms. “It’s not a Necromancer, that’s all we can tell.”

“Well, tell Zoel thanks,” Chloe interrupts, and she knows she’s awkward but this is something else. “Tell him to stop being so cryptic and he might get answers.”

“Frederick is Alerin’s son, correct?” Killian asks instead, and Chloe gets the sudden realization that she never knew Maison’s demon parents’ name. “Does he have a lot of contact with them?”

“Not really,” Chloe says, though once again, she doesn’t know that’s terribly true. “I mean, I know they’ve spoken a few times, but it’s not like he speaks positively about him or anything.”

Killian gives her a smile, a smug smile, despite the fear and frustration she’s picking up from him. “Then I’ve met your Half Demon before, back when he was a young adult. Ask Zoel if that’s enough information.”

“This is…so very vague,” Alette says, and it’s almost a complaint, almost a break from the personality of put togetherness that Alette projects at all time. “But okay, sure. I’ll tell him.”

Killian tilts his head at her, his eyes flat. “Do you have protections against blanket scans in that jacket of yours?”

Alette opens her mouth, then closes it. “What?”

And he sighs, before gripping Chloe’s hand and grabbing Alette’s wrist, and his power floods through them.

Chloe’s at least prepared for this one, breathing out of her nose, leaning into the sensation of suddenly being thrust under water, but Alette gasps, something quick and cut off, before she audibly schools herself.

And this scan is over before it begins, and Killian releases the power and Alette’s wrist, but keeps a hand on Chloe’s.

“You’re welcome,” he replies smugly, then stands, glancing down at Chloe. “How much time do you need with the schema?”

“I’d like at least an hour,” Chloe says, and there’s something so viciously satisfying to see Alette so thrown, so startled. “Maybe more, if it’s hard to interpret.”

As Alette visibly gathers herself, Chloe stands as well, dusting herself off. “That scan is about every eight hours,” she informs her. “You’ll want to be beyond the teleportation bubble before that.”

“Do you know what you're doing?” Alette breathes, and it almost gives Chloe pause.

“Rarely,” Chloe says, not entirely certain what she’s referring to at that specific moment.

Killian settles back in the chair, crossing his arms, as if he’s daring Alette to say something further.

Alette glances, a little bit obviously, to Chloe’s chin, then to her hip, right where Killian gripped her the night before, before releasing her so suddenly.

“I’m not getting involved,” Alette says delicately, which sounds like someone who’s meddling would say, “but text Ambra if you need advice.”

“I always need advice,” Chloe says, then smiles sunnily at her, which always seemed to frustrate Alette.

If Alette was raised from the dead, she can probably see all the same traces of demon that Chloe can.

Chloe just smiles a bit wider at her, aiming to unnerve more than anything else, and it works, Alette swallowing and glancing away.

“Are you going to be safe?” Alette asks. “Going in there?”

“Not at all!” Chloe says, then gives her two thumbs up.