“How’s your head, by the way?” he asked, that impish smile still on his face.
Uh, full of unrealistic thoughts about you, now that the threat of demons kidnapping me is over. Thanks for asking.
I smiled ruefully, pulling my knees up to my chest. “It hurts. But then again, everything hurts.” You have no idea how much this hurts. “Maybe next time I’ll try to use a weapon and not my own actual body when I want to injure someone.”
“Good idea.” He paused, then said in a low, breathy voice, “I was so worried, Paige. I’m glad you’re still here with me.”
Logan’s fingers untangled from my hair, his hand sliding down my back as he rested his other hand on my knee. His gaze dropped down to my lips briefly before his eyes met mine again, and he leaned in closer to me. Too close for someone who was going to leave. Way too close for someone who had just run a sword through two demons—one of which was Della. I wanted him to kiss me, but not like this. Not because of her. And the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“Are you being touchy-feely with me because you just killed a lust demon?”
Logan dropped his hold on me and shot back about a foot, his mouth open in disbelief. And horror. Lots and lots of horror.
“I just mean...you’re being really affectionate...and you had said that when you kill a demon, you get their powers...and maybe you’re feeling really lust demon-y right now.” The words tumbled out, colliding with each other like rocks in an avalanche. Except an avalanche would have been much more subtle.
“So, I’m overwhelmed by lusty feelings, and you just happen to be conveniently injured and unable to fight me off?” Logan said slowly, his tone matter-of-fact and almost clinical. “Is that what you think of me?”
“No! I don’t think that at all! I just didn’t expect it—you being like that. With me, I mean,” I stammered. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Apparently, I’m the one who offended you. Don’t worry, I won’t touch you like that again since it’s so offensive.” Hurt flashed across his face as Logan spoke in an icy voice, over-enunciating the word.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sor—”
“Don’t apologize. I’m—I’m the one who should be sorry.” Logan’s shoulders sagged as he rubbed his face roughly with his palms. He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head before speaking again, throwing his hand in the air.
“I overstepped a boundary, and now you think I’m trying to feel you up while you’re in a weakened state.”
“But that’s not what I meant at all.” The truth was, I really wanted him to overstep all sorts of boundaries. But instead, I’d made him think I considered him a pervert. Smooth, Paige. You should have just gone for it and worried about what it meant later.
“Honestly, I wasn’t—” I began.
“Please, just drop it,” he interrupted, suddenly sounding weary. “I promise you, it won’t happen again.” He leaned his back against the wall, his arms resting on his drawn-up knees. I stole a glance at Logan’s profile—his jaw was set in a hard line, his head slightly tilting from side to side as his eyes alternately narrowed and looked up, the way mine did when I was running through possible outcomes of conversations in my head.
I opened my mouth to try apologizing again, but the tense set of his jaw had me rethinking that approach, and I shifted uncomfortably next to him on the floor.
“So, where are you going next?” I blurted out, unable to handle any more awkward silence. Logan turned his head toward mine, a puzzled look on his face.
“We are going to see Rego when you’re feeling better.”
“After that.”
“How hard did you hit Della with your head? What are you talking about?” Logan’s tone was still frosty as he studied me. A glacier would have been positively tropical compared to this. Not that I could blame him. He’d saved my life—twice—and now thought I’d accused him of trying to play grab-ass while I was incapacitated.
“Do you know what your next assignment is? Almost all of the demons are dead, and Aiden’s back in the Dark World. Your job here is done. You’re leaving,” I concluded, rubbing my side to pretend that the pained look on my face came from actual pain and not from Logan’s impending departure. Just remember that you’re going to live. The demons are gone, Paige. His leaving is actually a good thing. No, really. Keep telling yourself that, and maybe you’ll believe it.
“I’m not leaving yet,” Logan said, his eyes wide as he turned to face me. “What just happened is really bad. Aiden knows that you can be used to open portals between worlds. Well, at least from this one to the Dark World. And I’m sure he’s on his way to tell all his little demon buddies.” Logan scowled at that.
I stared at the shredded paper strewn around the classroom, which was cluttered with overturned stools, sheet-music holders and broken-up corkboards. I’d thought it was over. I thought the threat to my life was gone.
Instead, it was worse—far worse than I could have imagined. And, of course, I’d insulted the one person who had done nothing but protect me.
Yet again, I’d managed to just make a mess. Story of my life.
I was desperate to make things right between us, but a stolen glance at Logan told me he still wouldn’t be receptive to another attempted apology. I decided to change the subject instead.
“How did you find me, in the music room of all places?”
“I figured they couldn’t go far,” Logan said, lifting one shoulder in a casual shrug. “Della was pretty bloody. She’d attract too much attention.”
“Yeah, she was really mad about her face, by the way. I don’t remember a lot from when I was under her spell, but I remember that.”
“How did you break her spell, anyway?” Logan asked, studying me with a curious expression on his face. “What made you snap out of it?”
“I don’t know,” I lied, grabbing a piece of torn sheet music off the floor and studying the beginning notes of “When the Saints Go Marching In.”
“You don’t know?” Logan repeated skeptically as I busied myself with twisting the corners of the paper in my hands, intently focusing on my crappy origami project as if I were getting graded on it.
“Paige?” Logan said my name the same way he had when he first came into the room, his voice wrapping around the word, reminding me of how seeing him had helped me tear down the mental blocks Della had put into place.
“If you have some other talents—if you’re a spellcaster of some kind or a witch, please, tell me,” he pleaded. “You know I’ll believe you.”
Of course you will. Because you’re the first person in years to talk to me like I’m not crazy. You’re the first person to really talk to me.
I took a deep breath, staring at the folded scrap of sheet music in my hand as I steeled my resolve.
“It was you,” I confessed, running my thumb over the creases in the paper.
“Me?”
I forced myself to meet Logan’s eyes, bracing myself for the rejection I expected to see. Instead, he merely looked confused, his dark eyebrows pulling together as he stared at me blankly.
“What do you mean?” he asked, guileless.
“When I saw you, and heard your voice, I just knew,” I explained, trying to keep my voice even and nonchalant and not at all affected by the fact that this admission would lay bare just how much Logan meant to me.
“Just knew what?” Logan asked, that same bewildered look on his face. He’s gonna make me spell it out, isn’t he?
I took a deep breath and exhaled through my nose.
“Before you came in, I felt—I don’t know—loyal to them. But that’s not even a strong enough word.” I fumbled through my explanation as I tried to describe what it felt like to be under Della’s spell. “There was this unexplainable urge to stay with them. I didn’t question it. It felt natural, and right. But when I saw you, suddenly I knew that Aiden was wrong. That the feeling of belonging to him and Della was wrong.” I closed my eyes for the last confession. “You felt right.”