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I didn’t add that a bond made it very difficult to want to stay away from someone.

Remi's entire frame relaxed, the tension melted away. “Really?”

I smiled tightly. “Just try not to get killed. Your life force is tied to mine.”

Remi's chocolate eyes shuttered. “What does that mean?”

I waved away his concern. “You die. I die.”

His frown could have been carved from marble. “Right.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, careful to keep my distance. I swung my legs as I tapped my fingers against my knees. “So... Alicia’s here.”

Remi sighed. “She’s a powerful Witchling.”

“Of course.” I ignored the spearing pain, it felt like a vital part of myself was being torn apart.

“You’d like her.” He offered. “She likes Tarantino and Chinese food.”

My lips pinched like I had tasted something foul. Tarantino and Chinese food? Everyone liked those things, they weren’t a marker of good taste.

Remi roared with laughter at my facial expression.

“I just want you to be happy.” I reached forward and placed my hand on top of his before I could stop myself.

Remi's eyes sparkled. “Strange thing for a Demon to say.”

“Sorry, what I meant was, I just want to sever your spinal cord and then dance naked around your paralyzed body.” I rolled my eyes.

“Oddly specific.”

“Lucifer once punished an ex-prima ballerina that way.” I snorted. “She’d beaten out her competition by staging an accident during rehearsals—Pride’s punishments depended on Lucy's moods.”

“You met the Devil?” Remi asked.

“Cowered in fear as he strutted around the City of Dis like a peacock? Why, yes, Remington. I have.” I tilted up my nose as I affected a fake-British accent.

Remi chuckled softly. My hand still lingered on his. I tried not to focus on how large his hand was compared to mine.

Remington Weber was destined to marry another Witchling. A cursed human, with a preferred bloodline. I was only meant to be a temporary part of his life before I flitted away to another body and another mission. Another life to experience.

“Are you scared of me?” I asked, keeping the emotion out of my voice.

Remi quirked a brow. “I’ve seen you fight. You couldn’t punch your way out of a paper bag.”

“You’ve seen my magic.” I reminded him with a pout.

“You have a problem with people underestimating you, don’t you?”

A smile lit up my face, wicked and full of mischief. “Go on!” I clapped and bounced on the bed. “Underestimate me. It'll be fun.”

Remi's smile was a sunbeam. “Too cute.” He whispered, shaking his head, the words were so quiet that I didn’t think he meant for me to hear them.

I hadn’t realized, but somehow, we had moved closer like two magnets unable to deny the thrumming vital connection between us.

I could see every individual eyelash and the almost indiscernible dilated pupil in the center of his warm chocolate irises. His lips were plush, a rose color, his cheekbones were sharp. Remi was a beautiful man.

He was studying me just as intensely.

“We shouldn’t do this.” He breathed but did not move.

“Relying on a Demon to exercise control is a foolish move on your part.”

“I’m talking to myself.” Remi chuckled before his smile fell clean off his face. “I’m sorry.” He stood up and moved towards the door before I could process what had happened.

My lips tingled as I thought about what his kiss would have felt like—but I knew Remi, he would be faithful, even if it cost him his Soulmate.

My muscles felt worse after a full night’s sleep than they had done when I had been walking about. My gait resembled the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz as I dressed and headed to the Mess Hall to eat my weight in Tabasco soaked pancakes.

Gary had attempted to start a conversation with me, but my face was set in a fixed frown as I moved down the queue to get my breakfast. Every movement made my spine throb, I hadn’t realized how long I had been stood in the salt circle, unable to lie down for even a second.

Wasn't that against human laws or something?

I began to shovel food into my mouth when Hugo slid his tray into the seat opposite mine. He did not say a word as he silently began to eat. The incubus seemed content in my company, and I did not want to ruin it with a barrage of questions.

Had he accepted me at his Mate? The confrontation in the warehouse pointed to yes. But I hadn’t seen him since. He hadn't actually spoken to me.

Hugo was half-human—a species with emotions too complex to fully understand. He had been raised with Humans. If Hugo were Cyclian, a denizen of Hell, I would simply walk up to him and bite his lip until it bled. Any incubus would view that as a green light. Blood was an aphrodisiac for Demons.

A few minutes later, Jae and Hart greeted me and sat down at our table. I felt warm and gooey because Jae greeted me with a dirty joke as if nothing had changed, and Hart swatted him with the back of his hand.

Someone cleared their throat over my shoulder, I ignored the sound as I took a tentative sip of my coffee.

“Frankie,” Dr. Daniel drawled in a bored voice. My eyes widened as I affected an air of innocence.

“Dr. Dan!” I acted as if I hadn’t heard him.

His lip curled. He hated the nickname, his discomfort made my heart sing. Dr. Dan did not address my use of his disliked moniker.

“It’s Thanksgiving tomorrow.” He stated blandly.

I turned to my men, eyebrows raised in a questioning expression. Jae shook his head and shrugged, clearly unaware of where the doctor's thought process was heading.

“Yes.” I nodded sagely. “And ducks have corkscrew penises.”

“What?” Daniel spluttered, my comment breaking through his empty mask.

“I thought we were stating facts.” I sipped my coffee around a benign smile.

“If you remember, a few weeks ago, I reminded you of our parent's invitation to Thanksgiving dinner.” Daniel glanced at Hugo and then Jae and Hart. “You said that you could make it.”

“Did I?” I tapped my chin.

Hugo made a strange noise with his throat to catch my attention. “We’d love to go.” The incubus chimed in pleasantly. “What should we bring?”

If Daniel was shocked by Hugo inviting himself, he did not show it. “Bring dessert.” Then the doctor turned on his heel and walked away. I watched him go, trying to catch a peek at the obvious stick up his ass.

If he and Frankie were both ice cold, dull, and mean, I didn’t want to meet their adopted parents. There must have been a reason for their personalities, and I was willing to bet that it started at home.

“Why did you say that?” I hissed under my breath, confident that Hugo could hear me.

Hugo flicked his hair away from his face and looked to Jae and Hart for assistance.

I clicked my fingers to draw his gaze back to me as I waited for his response.

Hart must have taken pity on the incubus because he started to offer an explanation—unwilling to let delicate Hugo squirm.

“The Gardiner’s are famous Hunters. If Frankie did not come to Thanksgiving, they would likely come to the compound.” Hart said.

“Which would be dangerous, because of whoever is targeting the Hunters.” I realized.

Jae snapped his fingers. “Ten points for Slytherin.”

“How dare you assume my Hogwarts house.” My hand fluttered to my chest, offended.

“I'm in Slytherin too.” Jae winked. “It’s where all the cool kids are.”

Hart tsked, but did not interrupt.