Demon Lover - Marian Tee Page 0,2

the little things really...

Those little things that kept her heart breaking even as she refused to lose hope.

I've kept my promise, Master.

I'm the one who can save lives now.

I'm strong...just like I promised.

So please keep your promise, too.

Come back.

I miss you so much.

Please come back.

Please.

The Vision That Broke

A Soul Seer's Heart

Chapter Two

IT WAS A VIOLENTLY stormy night in Chalys, savage winds whipping out of the silvery Woods of the Wraiths before slashing a destructive path into the rest of the kingdom. From the lofty heights of the angel-run territory of Ciel to the remote shores of Aquarius - no ducal territory was spared, and as rain that tasted of vengeance and fury struck their roofs, whispered rumors began to swirl about.

From elegant townhouses in the city to noisy pubs hidden in the back streets, the storm had heated debates arising between otherworlders of all walks of life. The storm, the older ones believed, was a harbinger, fulfilling an ancient prophecy about the return of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. The younger ones, however, dismissed this. There were no such horsemen, and the storm, mysteriously vicious its strength might be, was still just a storm.

Zari, however, was one of the few residents of the kingdom who cared naught about the raging storm that battered against the fortified walls of her school. She was too busy raiding the wine cellar, and once she had a bottle of Brimstone's finest whisky hidden under her shawl, she wasted no time running up the steps and locking herself in her room.

It took a while for her to figure out how to uncork the bottle, and a strong scent immediately filled her room.

She poured herself a glass. "Cheers, Master." She drank the whole thing in one gulp and poured herself another...and another...and another until she was so maudlin and her senses properly befuddled, that Zari, in between drunken hiccups and chest-heaving sobs, finally mustered the strength to speak of the words that had been haunting her for weeks.

I had a vision, Master. And in it, all I could see was death. It was all around me. So much death, and I don't know if I have the courage to change things, knowing what might...

Her throat tightened.

I'm scared, Master.

I'm so stupidly scared.

I wish you were here to tell me I'm strong enough to do what's right.

I wish...I just wish you were here.

The (Half) Angel Who's

(Sometimes) Up To No Good

Chapter Three

ZARI WOKE UP THE NEXT day with a pounding headache. Kinda like someone with a hangover, but in her case, it was because she had ended up crying herself to sleep.

No shame, Zari reminded herself as she dragged her body out of bed.

Crying was as natural as any other bodily function, and as her therapist liked to say, she could simply think of it as peeing out her sadness. The analogy still grossed Zari out to this day, but since it did make sense...

Nothing to be guilty about, she thought determinedly to herself as she stepped into the shower. Optical peeing was therapy, so nowadays she did it whenever the urge struck, which - more often than not - was when she was alone at night, and the pain of her Master's absence got to be a little too much.

After changing into her self-imposed work uniform (turtleneck in some neutral shade, jeans, boots, and a trench coat with more pockets than anyone could ever need), she went about locking up and was out of her apartment building a few minutes past seven.

With time to spare, she got herself a bagel and coffee but still made it to the office one full hour ahead of the daily roll call.

#workaholic mode on, Zari thought, never mind if she hadn't really ever switched off.

Like most other buildings in Hudson Yards, AGNEX's New York office was housed in a stately old stone building and - according to Google Maps - the listed address of an investment firm. It was why, when asked by strangers about her work, Zari would always offhandedly say she worked in "finance".

Middlemarch, AGNEX's day shift sentinel, glanced up at hearing the revolving doors start to spin and was unsurprised when he saw Zari Baltimore enter the vestibule. Petite and coltishly slim, the girl was in her early twenties, with ash blonde hair she always had twisted up in a fuss-free bun and smoky gray innocent-looking eyes that belied the trapper's murderously good skills with a blade.

"Sup, Mid." Zari absently gave her arms a brisk rub as she