“So he assaulted you first? You need to call the cops. He’s escalating things. He’s been stalking you for years now.”
The bartender slid our mojitos across the bar, and I grabbed mine instantly. I took a sip, letting the mint and lime roll over my tongue. “I reported it at Osborn State and to the police, but they decided a long time ago that I’m overreacting. Apparently, being a douchebag isn’t illegal, and I’m not sure they’d see what happened last night on my terms, either. His dad is a congressman or something, so…” I took another sip. “You know what? I’m sick of thinking about him. Please tell me about the City of Thorns. Let’s leave Jack out of tonight. I want to hear about the demons.”
“Where do I even begin?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Do you think demons can leave?”
She shook her head. “I think so, but not for long. As far as I know, there’s some kind of magical spell from hundreds of years ago that keeps them mostly tied to one demon city or another. But occasionally, they can travel between them. Why do you ask?”
“That night my mom was murdered—”
My sentence trailed off. I could already feel the air cooling, the atmosphere growing thorny as I raised the painful subject. There was no easy way to say, One night, a demon with a glowing star on his head hunted down my mom in the woods and burned her to death. And since the horror of that night felt raw even now, it was hard to talk about it without feeling like I was drowning in loss again.
Sometimes, I thought the only thing keeping me afloat was the certainty that I’d avenge her death. That I would get into the City of Thorns and find her killer.
But this was too dark and weird, wasn’t it? Worse than the fox pee beneath my bed.
Chapter 3
We were sitting at the marble bar, with the night-dark sea glittering before us. I didn’t want to ruin the evening, and so I waved a hand. “Never mind. I want to hear more about your daily life. What’s it like?”
I could feel the tension leave the air again. “Fucking amazing,” Shai said. “I might do another year. Any chance you can get the tuition for next year?”
“I’m working on a few ideas for getting in.” Wildly illegal ideas at this point. “What’s your dorm like?”
“There’s a balcony and servants. Even the ocean is more beautiful there. It’s not like the Atlantic—it’s like this gorgeous tropical ocean made with magic. Okay, so the city has seven wards, each one associated with a demon. And the university buildings are organized the same way. I’m in Lucifer Hall, and it’s this enormous stone castle-like place.”
Even putting my vengeance plans aside, my jealousy was crippling. “How are your classes?”
“Amazing. They’re held in lecture halls that must be four hundred years old, with seats curved all around a stage.” She sighed. “I know, it’s a huge expense. But I wanted to learn magical arts, and you can’t exactly do that at Osborn State. Belial is the finest witchcraft institution for mortals. I’m desperate to stay another year.”
“What are the demons like?”
She ran her fingertip over the rim of her mojito. “Well, my classes are mostly with aspiring mortal witches, but there are a few demons, and the professors, obviously. They’re beautiful and intimidating as shit. Some of them have horns, but not all. I haven’t met anyone who seems particularly evil. At least, no one worse than Jack.” She turned and lifted her empty glass, motioning for the bartender to bring us another round, then swiveled back to me. “I’ve heard the king is evil—him and the Lord of Chaos. They’re both terrifying, but I’ve only seen them from a distance.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Okay, start with the king. What’s his deal?”
She leaned in conspiratorially. “King Cambriel only recently became king. He slaughtered his father, King Nergal, who’d ruled for hundreds of years. Cambriel cut off his dad’s head and stuck it on the gate to his palace.”
I shuddered. “That’s fucked up.”
“The only way a demon king can die is if his heir slaughters him, and Cambriel did just that. Now he’s apparently looking for a demon queen, and there’s all kinds of gossip about which female he might choose.”
As I finished my first mojito, the bartender brought over two more.
“And the women want to marry this guy with his dad’s head over his front gate?” I asked. “Sounds like quite a catch.”