I wondered how many times Logan had used the healing balm and how young he started needing it. I snuck a look at his profile as we walked—there was nothing menacing about him, even with the tense set of his jaw. And it’s probably tense because you just insulted his childhood, moron. He’s a demonslayer, he’s probably been killing monsters since kindergarten.
I slid the bag off my shoulder and held it out, but kept a tight hold on the strap as Logan grabbed it, and he gave me a questioning look.
“Hey, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I was judging the way you grew up.”
The guarded expression slid from Logan’s face, and for a moment he looked lost and so deeply sad. But he quickly flashed me a grin.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, tugging on the strap. “Now, let go and give me the bag. I can be really annoying and persistent when I want something. Just ask Rego.”
I dropped my hold on the bag as Logan pushed open the front door of the apartment building, holding it for me.
“Your uncle Rego. He’s...interesting.” I kept my voice causal as we jogged down the short stoop to the sidewalk. I didn’t want to accidentally offend him again, but I was curious—really curious—about who Logan really was.
“I know he can seem difficult, but you have to understand, Paige—Rego is a warrior.” Admiration for his uncle colored his voice. “He’s a soldier—no, he’s more than that. He’s leading the charge. He’s doing what’s right. And what’s right is to put a warlock back on the throne.
“But,” he added, giving me a sly sideways glance, “I could see where he’s an acquired taste. Rego totally has a chip on his shoulder.”
He has a whole family-size bag of chips on his shoulder. But I kept my thoughts to myself and just nodded as we continued to walk.
“I don’t understand one thing, though.”
“Only one thing? You’re handling this better than I thought!”
“Okay, I don’t understand a lot of things,” I admitted, shoving my hands into my coat pockets. “But this one is screaming the loudest for an answer.”
“What’s that?”
“What’s with all the comments about you not doing your job? I mean... You. Saved. My. Life.” I paused between each word, trying to drive the point home. “From where I’m standing, still breathing air in a human world, you did your job.”
Logan glanced at me, an embarrassed smile on his face as we turned south on Amsterdam Avenue. I was relieved to see fewer fire trucks clogging the street.
“I have a confession to make,” Logan said guiltily, looking down at his sneakers as we walked. “I stole your bracelet this morning.”
“What? Why?” I asked, stopping short on the sidewalk, pulling Logan off to the side in the alcove of an apartment building.
“Rego had a very clearly defined plan—one I was supposed to follow,” he explained, leaning against the glass door. “Find out who’s the target, cast a protection spell on something they wear every day that makes them undetectable to demons. Then, I’d pick off the demons, and once you were safe, I’d go wherever Rego needed me next. I’m pretty much his go-to assassin,” he added casually, like he’d just described his day shift at the local fast-food joint. Flip a burger, stab a demon, same difference.
“Just like that?” I asked, snapping my fingers.
“Just like that.”
“So, what happened?”
“I had a particularly nasty battle with a rage demon in the school basement this morning. I was late in returning your bracelet to your locker after I put the protection spell on it.” Logan scowled at the memory.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just hit my head a little.”
Before I could stop myself, my hand reached up to touch his face. Clearly, my hand had a mind of her own, and she was a big, face-touching flirt.
“Don’t worry about me,” he insisted, grabbing my wrist to stop me. Once his fingers had circled my wrist, he gave me a disapproving look.
“Paige, where’s your bracelet?” Logan asked, exasperated, giving me a hard look. “Make it a little harder on me to fight off demons, why don’t you?”
“Because I knew that when I took my bracelet off, right?” I retorted, pulling my wrist back and shoving my hand back in my coat pocket. “I thought the clasp was broken. Or maybe that I had imagined taking it off in the first place. Everyone thinks I’m crazy, Logan. I guess I started to think they were right.”
I stared at the buttons of his coat as it hung open, embarrassed by my outburst.
“Sorry,” I muttered to the scratched third button on his coat. “I didn’t mean all that.”
I felt his fingers underneath my chin, and Logan lifted my face to meet his.
“Yeah, you did. And it’s okay,” he said, keeping his eyes on mine as he let his hand drop from my face. “I didn’t mean to make you think you were crazy. I’m sorry.”
I paused, taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor.
“It’s cool. Um, yeah, no problem.” I brushed it off, giving him a bright smile before fishing the bracelet out of my uniform shirt pocket.
“Do you want to get it on?” I asked innocently, trying not to smirk when his words from earlier left my mouth. The corner of Logan’s mouth twitched slightly, but he kept a straight face as he fastened the clasp around my wrist.
“Now, don’t take it off.”
“Does it really matter? They know who I am.”
“Only two demons know who you are. Two demons stuck on this side. But they can always send more, Paige,” Logan said gravely, and I felt a chill run down my spine. I nodded, staring at the thin platinum swirls that were standing between me and possible indentured servitude in a demonic universe.
We resumed walking home and had just cut behind Lincoln Center when an alarming thought hit me.
“The ones who know me—what’s to stop them from coming to my home?” I asked, panicked. “What if they try to hurt my parents?”
“They won’t,” Logan said, his voice confident.
“How can you be sure?”
“Protection spell on your apartment,” Logan said, giving me a proud smile. “Wasn’t even Rego’s idea. That one was all mine.”
I had a sudden image of Logan wearing a pointed wizard hat and a cloak, standing in the middle of Forty-Fourth Street waving a wand at my apartment building, and had to bite back a laugh.
“Wait—how’d you find out where I live?” I asked, and Logan gave me another smile, this one guilty.
“Like I said, I made that jump a lot. Once I realized you were the target, I found out your address from the school office and went from there.”
I mulled that over in my head. “You could have just asked me where I live.”
“I guess. It’s just that Rego was adamant that I stay in the background, remain insignificant, all of that,” Logan continued. “If someone overheard me asking where you lived, and then you disappeared—”
He stopped short, and I finished for him.
“At least no one would suspect you.”
He nodded grimly.
“You did talk to me, though,” I reminded him.
“I did,” he agreed. “At least now I don’t have to pretend to be such a quiet, forgettable lump.”
“You’re not forgettable,” I immediately said, and Logan blinked before pressing his lips together in a bashful smile.
“I mean, I don’t think I could ever forget the mental image of you writing history notes with a pink pen with jingle bells on top,” I quickly added, and Logan squeezed his eyes together at the memory.
“Those things were so loud,” he sighed. “I felt like Santa’s elf.”
I walked a little more closely to Logan, keeping my voice low.
“Can I ask you a question?” I asked, and Logan chuckled.