Truth or Demon

CHAPTER 36

Poppy stretched, then opened her eyes, expecting to see Killian’s sleeping face on the pillow next to her. Instead, she was greeted by an empty bed and a flood of confusing, frightening memories.

She pushed herself upright, still wanting to find him, despite what she thought she knew.

“Killian,” she called. The apartment was silent. “Killian.”

She got out of bed, pulling on just her panties and a T-shirt that had been flung on the back of her bedroom chair. She padded into the living room. The apartment was still and empty feeling.

“Killian?”

Almost instantly she knew he was gone.

She went back to the bedroom, realizing all traces of him had disappeared as if he’d never existed. Had he?

She walked back to the living room, then to the kitchen. No signs. Maybe she’d imagined him. Her—demon lover.

She walked back to the bedroom and dropped on the edge of the bed.

Yes, he was gone.

By afternoon, Poppy realized she couldn’t just accept that Killian, whatever he was, hadn’t been real. God knew the heartbreak she was feeling sure felt real. Painfully real.

And maybe what she thought she’d remembered wasn’t accurate. She had no memory of getting home, or anything after her brief talk with Adam. Maybe she wasn’t remembering the rest of the night accurately either.

So she went to the one place she could think of to find Killain. With resolve, she knocked on the door. Then waited. And waited.

Again her determination flagged. But she knocked again.

Another few moments, then the doorknob wiggled. Poppy pulled in a calming breath.

“Poppy.”

Poppy deflated. “Ginger. I—I’m sorry to wake you.”

The other woman pushed sleep-tousled hair away from her face and fought back a yawn.

“That’s okay.” She frowned, her eyes going from drowsy to concerned. “You didn’t hear something from the girls, did you? Is everything okay?”

“No,” Poppy said quickly. “No, nothing like that. I was actually looking for Killian. Is he here?”

Ginger’s frown deepened. “Killian?”

“Yes. Your cousin.”

Her neighbor stared at her for a moment, concern returning. “I don’t have a cousin named Killian.”

Poppy’s stomach dropped, a horrible sick feeling rushing through her. “Umm—are you sure? Tall, very handsome, from Sweden?”

Ginger smiled. “Well, he sounds like a good cousin to have, but he isn’t my cousin.”

Poppy looked around, suddenly not sure what to do or say. Killian wasn’t Ginger’s cousin.

“Are you okay?” Ginger asked, her smile dissolving into a worried motherly look.

“Yes—yes.” Poppy attempted to gather herself. “I—I guess I misunderstood. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

She looked around again, trying to get her muddled brain together enough to walk away.

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said to Ginger, forcing her feet to move, hurrying down the hall back to her apartment.

She heard Ginger call something after her, but she couldn’t register the words.

She made it back to her apartment, stepping inside. She collapsed against the closed door, her mind whirling.

What had she just experienced over the past week? She just didn’t know.

“Hey,” Daisy called as she stepped into the apartment. “I’m home.”

She was greeted by silence. Dropping her bags in the hallway, she headed toward the living room.

Poppy sat in the rocker, her face stony.

Daisy’s heart sunk.

“Hey,” she said tentatively. “What’s wrong?”

“Who is Killian?”

Daisy felt the air being sucked out of her chest.

“Who is he, Daisy? Because I know for a fact he isn’t Ginger Cobb’s cousin. She’d never heard of him.”

Daisy scrambled, trying to think of what to say. God, she shouldn’t have gone away this weekend. She should have known they couldn’t leave a demon here unsupervised.

“He—he is …” Daisy couldn’t think of a single reasonable explanation. “He was just a guy.”

Poppy stood, her movements abrupt, agitated.

“Just a guy?” She laughed at that, the sound harsh, brittle. “Did you hire him, Daisy? Was he a—a paid escort or something?”

“No!” Daisy shook her head. “Nothing like that.”

Poppy ran a hair through her hair, her dark eyes glittering as if she was painfully close to tears.

“Then what?” Poppy’s voice sounded frantic.

Daisy fought her own urge to cry. Her plan wasn’t supposed to go like this. The demon was just supposed to find Poppy a boyfriend. Nothing more.

“Who is he?” Poppy demanded when Daisy stood there, speechless.

Daisy gave her a pained look, close to tears herself. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“He—he’s …” How could she tell Poppy this? Her sister would think she was nuts.

Poppy widened her eyes, waiting.

Daisy could tell her sister that she had hired Killian. As a matchmaker. But she knew Poppy wouldn’t just accept that. She’d want to know where Daisy had found him. What agency or whatever he worked for. All sorts of questions that Daisy wouldn’t have answers to. The hole would just get bigger and bigger.

So before she realized what she actually planned, Daisy blurted out the truth. “He’s a demon.”

Poppy opened her mouth, then snapped it shut.

Daisy waited for her sister to yell, to tell her to stop making up stories, even to look shocked. But instead she looked almost resigned, hurt.

Daisy could feel tears rolling down her cheeks, and she just started talking, spilling the whole truth.

“You know those books I love? The Jenny Bell ones—” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, they have spells in them. So Madison, Emma and I decided to try one. It was supposed to conjure a demon who would fulfill a wish. We thought it would be fun.”

Poppy stared at her sister. This was madness. Utter madness.

Yet she said, “So you did the spell, and Killian appeared.”

Daisy nodded, tears streaking her cheeks. “We didn’t actually think it would work.”

Poppy collapsed back into the rocker. So the strange memories of demons and Satan were true.

“I swear, that is the truth,” Daisy said. “I swear.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

Poppy nodded, but she suddenly needed to be alone. She needed to process. “Go to your room. Please.”

Daisy gave her pleading look. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

Poppy nodded again.

Daisy turned to leave, when Poppy stopped her.

“What was the wish?”

Daisy blinked back more tears. “He was supposed to find you a boyfriend. Your soul mate.”

Souls. That was Killian’s trade. He worked in souls. And never had he really thought much about his own. Or whether he even had one.

Now he knew he did. But it had been left with Poppy when he’d been sucked back to Hell. And now he just felt empty. Hollow.

He tossed down the controller to his Xbox and reached for his scotch. He took a sip and looked around at his ultramodern apartment. All the luxuries he could want: a huge TV, surround sound, expensive leather furniture, toys, gadgets—he had them all.

But all he kept thinking about was a small apartment with eclectic décor, no expensive perks and the most perfect person he’d ever met.

He kept thinking of Daisy’s comment about wanting someone perfect for Poppy. He’d wondered then if perfection existed.

Now he knew for certain it did. And he’d lost it forever.

After he’d gotten back to Hell, Satan had called both him and Vepar to his court. There he’d punished Vepar for attempting to kill a pure human, banishing him to the Ninth Circle of Hell to work in the molten lava mines. And he’d punished Killian too, forbidding him to return to the mortal realm.

“You’ve more than used up your vacation time,” Satan had told him in his thunderous voice.

Still, Killian had tried right away to transport himself back to her, knowing if he only got to see her one more time it would be worth it. But he couldn’t do it. In the same way he’d been trapped in the human dimension, he was now trapped here.

He polished off his liquor, then reached for the bottle on the glass coffee table, refilling his crystal glass.

He’d been back here for days. A week, a month, he couldn’t recall now. One day rolled into another, an endless abyss of weltschmerz—not Swedish but close enough. and all he knew for sure was he had eternity ahead of him. Eternity without Poppy.

He realized he’d never really understood the implications of being damned to Hell until now.

He polished off another glass of scotch, which did nothing to squelch his pain, no matter how many glasses, how many bottles, he drank.

He stretched out on the sofa, closing his eyes. Poppy instantly appeared to him. Dark hair and eyes. That sweet smile. Her infectious laugh. Her small, gorgeous body against his.

Did she even know he loved her?

“We should just redo the spell,” Madison said.

Daisy shook her head, sneaking another peek at her sister. Poppy sat in her bed, pencil in hand, doing something in a black bound book.

“We don’t even know how we got him last time,” Daisy whispered. “What if we get another demon?”

“She fell in love with him,” Emma said with a sigh that was somewhere between wistfulness and regret.

Daisy agreed. She didn’t understand how she’d missed it, but yes, she knew Poppy had fallen in love with Killian. Poppy hadn’t said so, but Daisy could just tell. Her sister acted like she was okay. She never even talked about him. What was there to say, really?

All Daisy knew was that she felt awful.

“I got the new Jenny Bell book,” Emma said, sitting on Daisy’s bed, “but I don’t even know if I want to read it.”

Daisy knew it was irrational to take out her frustration on the book—after all they were the ones who’d tried the spell—but she kind of agreed. Jenny Bell didn’t seem so great anymore.

Poppy picked up a red pencil, shading in what she’d just drawn.

She paused and studied the drawing. Pretty good. Sighing, she set the book aside. Then she headed to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.

In the hallway, she could hear her sister and the girls talking quietly in Daisy’s room. They all had been very reserved around her these days, clearly remorseful about what had happened.

Poppy considered speaking to them, in an attempt to let them know she was fine, but she didn’t.

She wasn’t fine. Not totally. But she was trying.

A demon. Killian was a demon. Leave it to her to fall for a demon. The idea should have scared her. The very idea that demons existed should have terrified her, but it didn’t. Killian might be a demon, but he was also the best man she’d ever met.

And it did explain his appearing in the apartment that first night. And why, several times, she’d overheard the word demon. And in Swedish, Killian had even used a term that definitely sounded like demon.

She took a sip of her coffee. Yeah, leave it to her to fall for a demon.

But whatever had happened, Killian was gone now. She had to accept that and move on. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know how to do that. Loss was a part of her life.

And he’d probably never loved her anyway. Did demons even know how to love?