Much to Dee’s relief, there were a few weeks of quiet.

A sense of normalcy settled over everything; the Daemon made no sudden appearances; there were no more mysterious explosions; Cora got back in touch with them and grudgingly accepted Riley as one of the heartless; Riley and James turned out to be surprisingly comfortable roommates; Dee no longer had to hide her double life from Gremma.

She learned that she liked kissing, the way James’s lips could draw the breath out of her or soothe her into a state so relaxed she could have fallen asleep in his arms.

They went on dates. Real dates, with movie theaters and restaurants. He texted her in between classes and she tried to focus on calculus rather than the fact that he called her “adorible.”

Even the misspelling seemed endearing.

It was nice to fall back into a familiar rhythm. To do homework and try to come up with trivial details to e-mail her mother. And when the weekends rolled around, James would often show up with two burlap sacks.

There was no point in getting river rocks; the Daemon wasn’t pestering them to do it. But it was something to do, and besides—Dee enjoyed it.

If she were being honest with herself, she felt better when she was with James. She liked the way he seemed to settle into her—like plastering up the cracks in an old wall. He made her feel whole, like she wasn’t some broken thing that needed fixing.

She learned that he always smelled of paint and fabric softener. His outfits may have looked as if they came from a dumpster, but he was meticulous about washing them. She learned that he liked holding hands, enjoyed his thumb stroking over her pulse point, as if it were a joke between them.

As spring crept toward summer, a heat wave rolled into Oregon. It was rare to see the clouds burned so cleanly from the sky. When they went to the river one day, she found herself kneeling in the shallow water, dribbling handfuls of it over her bare shoulders.

James ended up taking off his shirt and—

Dee did not stare.

Much.

All right, so maybe there was some staring.

Once they were done picking rocks, he insisted on being gallant and carrying both burlap sacks.

“I think our roommates are dating,” said James, with as much solemnity as he could muster.

She snorted. “Oh, really? How’d you figure that out?”

His mouth hooked up into a grin. “I am a keen observer of the human condition. All artists must carefully examine human behavior and…”

Dee gazed at him.

“I walked in on them making out,” he finished lamely.

Her laugh came out as a breathy exhalation.

“You can laugh,” he said. “It’s not like they were making out on your couch.”

Dee crossed her arms. “Don’t tell me you’re bothered by it.”

“Of course I’m bothered by it,” said James. “It’s my couch. I spent all of… a hundred dollars on it. If anyone was going to christen it with a naked butt, it should have been me.”

Dee choked. “They were naked?”

“Not yet,” said James. “Give it time.”

“You really think so?”

James pointed at himself. “Keen observer of the human condition, remember? It’ll happen.”

They kissed against the hood of his car for some time. She never thought it could be this effortless. She never thought she’d find anyone she trusted enough to share such easy affection.

When they returned to his apartment, his door was unlocked. “You should lock your door,” she said, pushing it shut behind her.

“I’m already working for the Daemon,” said James airily. “Whatever decides to visit can’t be scarier than him.”

One of his paintings caught her eye. It looked like something from an old church, with figures and glowing halos, shining through with inner light.

“You’re painting angels?” she said, unable to help herself.

“I’m calling it Salvation,” said James. “Probably going to sell it to an old man who’s obsessed with Rafael. He’ll love it.” He grinned at Dee. “Yeah, I know. It’s pretty ironic.”

“Where’s Riley?” asked Dee, glancing around the apartment.

“She’s enrolled at some community college. She says she’s been taking classes ever since she left home. Basic courses, so she can transfer into a better school later.”

“How old is she?” asked Dee, curious. There wasn’t exactly a lot of time for personal questions that first night; Dee had been too busy getting grilled by Gremma.

“Seventeen,” answered James. “But she said she left home a year before that. She got her GED while couch-surfing. But her last friend was… well, not too thrilled about the whole demon thing. That’s why she needed a place to stay.”

James took her hand and squeezed. “I get it. The whole not-wanting-to-stay-at-home thing. I mean, I didn’t have birth parents who kicked me out—so on the one hand, I think I had it easier than you and Riley.”

Her stomach twisted. “My parents didn’t… well. I’m not sure they did kick me out. I almost wish they had,” said Dee. “Like, maybe if they really did kick me out, then it would mean I wasn’t overreacting. But maybe they’re right, maybe it isn’t as bad as I think it is—”

Fire blazed behind James’s eyes. “You are not overreacting,” he said hotly. “Fuck that. And fuck them for making you feel that way.” He gently tugged at her hand, until she sat beside him on the couch. His hip was pressed to hers, but all he did was weave their fingers together, his grip secure but not too tight. “That’s how they sucker you back in. They make you think that it wasn’t so bad, that they really love you, that it’ll be different. But it never is, not unless they’re willing to change.” He looked at Dee. “You think they’ll change?”

She answered without needing to think about it. “No. Not unless something drastic happens.”

He nodded. “Then you’re not overreacting. And you don’t have to go back there, not if you don’t want to.”

A startled little laugh escaped her. “Are you offering me a place, too? Don’t you think it’d be a little too… sitcom-y if I moved in with you and Riley?”

He returned her smile. “Do you have any other family? I mean, besides your parents?”

If he wanted the technical answer, that would be a yes. She had distant aunts and uncles—all her grandparents were dead, but there were cousins that she’d seen at family reunions. No one in the state, no one close. But they did exist.

Those distant relatives could have helped her. But they hadn’t acted. For whatever reasons, they’d left her there—maybe it was easier to not get involved, maybe they had their own problems. Whatever the reasons, no help had come from them.

Gran would’ve helped.

“No,” she said. “No other family.”

James let the subject drop. He went back to his canvas, and for a while Dee watched as he painted. It was mesmerizing to watch as he cast colors across the canvas, every gesture sure and graceful. She could almost see why he would sell his heart for this—it was beautiful, the way he lost himself to the work. This was where he found his solace.

“You know,” he remarked as he worked on the angel’s wing, “it’s kind of creepy when you stare at me like that.”

“It’s not creepy. It’s… attentive.”

“I can see you out of the corner of my eye.” But he was smiling when he said it. “Just staring.”

“Oh, hush,” she said, and nudged him with her shoulder. He put down the paintbrush and turned to face her. His hands came up, lightly pressed between her shoulder blades.

“You are a distraction,” he told her. “An adorable distraction, but a distraction.”

She grinned and leaned in.

And then her phone buzzed loudly.

“Don’t answer it,” groaned James.

But Dee was already fishing it out of her pocket. “I can’t not answer it. It bugs me when I know I have messages waiting.”

James watched as she opened the text.

Cora: We need to talk.

Dee’s stomach bottomed out. James went somber at once. “What does she want?”

Dee hurriedly typed a reply. What’s up?

Her phone buzzed again. This is the longest we’ve ever gone without being contacted by the Daemon. And he’s not answering any of my messages.

And then, a moment later, I think he’s abandoned us.

Dee passed over her phone and let James read the message.

“No,” said James. “He wouldn’t just leave us. Not like this. Not like—”

His hand went to his chest.

Dee swallowed; all the happiness had gone out of her. “Has any troop ever attacked the Daemon before?” she asked.

James looked away and did not answer.

Another text came in: We need to meet up. I have a plan.