Page 65 of My Demon Neighbor
"I erased them from everywhere.No onewill see those pictures again," I promised him, and he nodded as he buried his face in my chest once more.
Since there was time before he'd asked the other assholes to meet us, we stayed just like that as Codie slowly started to relax. Today had gone nothing like I'd hoped, but at least I'd gotten to keep my promise to Codie.
With how easy it'd been though, I couldn't help wondering if the bastard had paid off some cops to look the other way. How else could they have avoided getting caught when Codie knew exactly what they looked like?
It made me want to go hunt down those crooked cops, but Artemus had only given me permission to hurt the men who'd hurt Codie that night.
Maybe I could still make them pay without hurting them. At the very least, I could find some evidence of their crimes and get them fired so they wouldn't be able to protect any more bastards.
Codie pulled back, and I loosened my hold enough so he could look up at me. His dark eyes were luminous, his face flushed from being pressed against my chest, and he looked beautiful as ever.
I cupped his cheek, and he sank into my touch, his eyes fluttering shut as his face went lax. I loved the way he sought comfort from my touch, and loved that I could give it to him.
"I love you, Pythor," he murmured, making me go still. His eyes stayed closed as he spoke, but I didn't doubt the sincerity of his words, knowing he'd never take them lightly. "I don't know if it's romantic or platonic or something more, but likeyou said, I know this is it. You're it for me, and I never want to be apart from you."
Lowering my head, I kissed his forehead, and a soft sigh escaped his lips as I made my promise. "You won't ever have to."
Codie
The four men were mightily confused when Pythor, Hella, and I appeared out of thin air, but it didn't take any of them long to recognize me.
The bastard's house was big, all glass windows, high ceilings, and glass and metal furniture. It was cold, just like the man, and these guys fit right into the place.
They didn't get much time to react to us before Pythor took his true form and theyreallystarted to freak out. They backed up a few steps, but the only way out was through the windows, and since we seemed to be at least above fifteen floors, I doubted they'd survive that way. The only way out was through Pythor, and I didn't think any of them were brave enough to try it.
Pythor froze them in place as he turned to me, a bland look on his face, though he couldn't hide the anger burning in his eyes, not from me.
"What do you want to do with them?"
He'd let me decide what to do withhim, and he was handing over the reins again, even though it was clear he wanted to get his hands dirty instead.
"You decide. I'm just here to watch the show," I said, and his eyes lit up like I'd given him the best possible gift.
He turned to the others as I stepped back, Hella sticking to my side. He regarded them thoughtfully, then nodded to himself.
"You, grab a pen and paper and get ready to write."
The man followed his command instantly, and I realized he was using his magic to make him move. I hadn't realized he could do that, but now I understood why the demons had been commanded not to hurt humans.
Once the man's hand hovered over the paper, pen at the ready, Pythor started dictating. He made him confess to everything they'd done to me, naming names, dates, and all the details the cops could ever need. Then he made him name the cop they'd paid off to keep the case unsolved, which I was surprised by. I'd thought a cop might be involved, but I'd had no proof. Well, Pythor had just made us some.
"Now write: we're drowning in guilt over what we did, but we know there's no way to redeem ourselves, so we've decided we don't deserve to live. We've already taken care of—write your friend's name, the one whose house this is—and now, it's time for us. We're sorry."
I blinked, not expecting the direction Pythor took but not against it either.
"Now sign it, all of you."
They shuffled forward, taking turns to sign their own suicide note.
Once that was done, he made them take a picture of the note and email it right to the Chief of Police, probably so the cop wouldn't be able to tamper with the note.
"All right, now the fun part," Pythor said, rubbing his palms together. Then he seemed to catch himself, his head jerking back to look at me, and I waved him on, not at all scared by his clear enjoyment of the whole thing.
"All of you, grab a knife from the kitchen block. Make sure it's a sharp one."
They moved like obedient sheep, and once they were back in the living room with their weapons, I slid closer to Pythor.
While they'd been doing everything Pythor commanded without hesitation, their faces showed their true feelings, and all I could see there now was terror. It was strangely satisfying, to see the way I'd once felt now reflected on my tormentors.
