Zack dipped his head slightly. “I cannot.”
“Crap, that’s right.” Zack was still oathbound to not speak of Szerain’s crime or his fate to any who didn’t already know. “Will you be forced to intervene if I tell her?”
His lips parted in a small demahnk-smile. “No.”
A frown began to tighten Jill’s mouth. “Someone had better spill whatever this big secret is.”
I debated telling her she should sit down, but then I realized that would only piss her off again. “Ryan is actually the exiled demonic lord, Szerain. Zack is his guardian, and he’s pretty much been busting ass for the last fifteen or so years to make sure that Szerain remains sane in what’s a truly brutal imprisonment. All those long periods of needing to do shit with Ryan? Most of those are spent helping Szerain.”
To my private amusement, she sank to sit on the bed and stared at me in astonishment. Zack lowered himself into a sit-kneel.
“And your sweetie’s demon name is Zakaar,” I said, unable to resist adding one more level of weird to the whole thing.
She blinked, shook her head like a dog shedding water. “Wait. Ryan . . . Ryan is a demonic lord? Ryan?!”
“Weeelll, it’s complicated.” I grimaced and rubbed the back of my neck. “Ryan Kristoff is . . .” I had to swallow back a sudden wave of sadness. “He doesn’t actually exist. There was a real Ryan Kristoff and, as far as I can tell, he died and his, um, life was taken over as a cover for the exile of Szerain.” The grief clogged my throat briefly, and it was a few seconds before I could speak properly. “He’s an overlay, basically. An identity with a real person’s background, but he’s an aspect of Szerain. He’s not real.”
“Ryan Kristoff died in my arms,” Zack said.
I stared at him, unable to form any possible reply to that statement. I’d thought about it, rationally accepted the truth that the Ryan I knew and, yes, loved wasn’t a real person. But hearing it like that—from someone who knew—seemed to wrench my whole world off its axis. “What happened?” My voice cracked. Since I already knew the basics, I hoped that Zack had enough freedom around his oaths to fill in the details I so desperately needed.
“I sought a candidate for Szerain, for his exile. Similar in body and face.” He tipped his head back, inhaled deeply. “I was carefully watching many possible choices. Ryan Kristoff was the one to succumb in a circumstance that proved suitable. He and a friend went hiking in the Adirondack mountains. Ryan lost his footing and tumbled a hundred feet down a steep rocky slope.” Zack lifted one long-fingered hand, tilted it to indicate a precipitous grade. “His friend went for help. I went to Ryan.”
Grief swallowed me as I listened. I pygahed in an effort to maintain any sort of control. I’d wanted to know this. As hideous and painful as it was, I wanted to know the truth.
“He was close to death,” Zack continued after a moment, voice a bit less rich. The memory affected him as well. “I eased him, removed the pain, held him, and spoke to him, in the moments he had remaining.”
Tears slid down my cheeks, but I didn’t wipe them away. I felt frozen in shock and sorrow, dimly aware that Jill also quietly wept, eyes on Zack as he spoke.
“What did you do with his body?” I finally asked.
“I incinerated him. Collected the ashes.” Zack lowered his head.
“And then you created the overlay?” A part of me marveled that I was able to continue to question him so calmly.
“The Demahnk Council sent Szerain through to me,” Zack said. “He had been submerged for some time already, but yes, I then formed the overlay, shifted his features, and—” He paused for a long moment, iridescence of his skin dulling. “And created injuries appropriate to such a fall, including head trauma to account for memory loss.” He shifted, settled his wings and lifted his head. “When Ryan’s friend returned, he found his hiking buddy injured but alive. The ultimate identity theft.”
I stood in numb shock, pulse ringing in my ears as the strange and horrific savagery of the entire thing rolled over me. And what must it have been like for Zack to brutalize Szerain for the sake of a stable prison? “What happened to the ashes?”
“I still have them,” he replied, words barely a ripple in the air.
Jill found her voice. “What happens now?”
Zack went still and pulled his wings in close. I felt a tug from the sigils and realized he’d recovered enough to make the shift back to human form. Carefully, I fed power into the sigils and observed his transformation. First the dissolution to sparkly-transparent, a pause, then finally to solid limbs and torso. The change from demahnk to human seemed easier for him, perhaps because he was so used to being in human form after all these years.
He drew a deep breath, then lifted his head and gave me a nod. “It is enough,” he said in reference to the sigils. “Thank you.” He gave Jill a weary smile. “Sorry, babe. I know it’s weird.”
I dispelled the sigils and sat on the floor. “You might want to tell her how old you are too.”
Zack shot me a disgruntled look before he spoke to Jill. “Millennia,” he told her.
I didn’t miss that he kept it nice and vague.
Jill gave a breathless laugh. “Wow.” She stroked a hand over her belly. Then she gulped, fear darkening her eyes again. “Will our baby look like, um, your winged form?” She’d seen a normal-looking ultrasound, but after witnessing Zack’s transformation into Zakaar, I didn’t blame her one bit for wanting more reassurance.
Zack laid a hand on the bed, used it to help him rise from the floor. “No,” he said as he sat beside her. “She will be beautiful like you.”
“God, you’re a slick talker,” Jill murmured as she leaned in for a kiss.
Zack returned the kiss. “You know it, sweetie.”
And that’s my cue to leave. They could handle it from here. I quietly departed and closed the door behind me.
A lovely heady scent filled the hallway, chocolate but more, and a bit of sniffing told me it originated in the kitchen. Paul and Bryce were there, chatting and relaxed, while Bryce stirred the contents of a saucepan.
“What am I smelling?” I asked as I moved forward, nose twitching like a bloodhound’s.
“Bryce makes the best hot chocolate ever,” Paul announced, grinning. “He’s doing up a big batch.”
I nosed my way in to peer at—and inhale the scent of—the contents of the saucepan, then shifted my gaze to his face. “I’ve always liked you, Bryce. You know that, right?”
Smiling, he snagged a mug from the cabinet. “As much as you’ve done for me, I think you’re pretty much guaranteed a full serving.” He ladled the thick, creamy liquid into the mug and passed it to me. I wrapped my hands around it, sipped.
“Marry me,” I moaned.
Bryce laughed. “I’m flattered, but I don’t think that would go over very well with the lord.”
“Details!” I sat and spent some lovely minutes savoring the creamy drink. “If chocolate was a weapon, the Mraztur wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“Weaponized chocolate.” Paul grinned. “Turn any bad guy good.”
I grinned and sipped. “We have you two as allies. That’s pretty hard core.” It was nothing to sneeze at either, I knew. Paul could supposedly work miracles with computer and infrastructure, and I’d already had the chance to see Bryce in action. My posse was getting bigger and better.