Choosing not to bring up the yoghurt he’d been wolfing down when I found him in the kitchen, I snorted and shook my head. “I don’t think you have a mean bone in your body, Greid.”

The last person ahead of us finally stepped to the side to wait by the counter for their drink. Before I could move, I felt Greid place a warm hand between my shoulder blades. Tingles raced from the spot, but he whipped his hand away just as fast.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

When I turned to look at him, his ears were fluttering. Smiling, I said, “Casual touches are okay, remember?”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” He let out a squawk of nervous laughter, then cringed as a few heads turned in our direction. “Sorry. Um, ready to order?”

“Yes.” I stepped up to the counter and gave the waiting demiurgus barista a big smile. Yes, look, I’m just a friendly, normal human. I wasn’t in a cult that worshipped your kind as sex gods! Not me! “Hi there. Can I please have a, um…”

“Mocha,” Greid supplied quietly.

“Mocha,” I echoed to the barista.

“What size?”

“Oh! Um…” I quickly tried to scan the board for their drink sizes. The barista shifted in front of me, long fingers poised over the register screen.

“While you’re deciding, why don’t I give my order?” Greid asked. I gave him a grateful nod, stepping to the side so he could stand beside me.

I felt so stupid. Like a little kid. Why was I sweating? The barista had only asked what freaking drink size I wanted, for god’s sake. It felt like I was playing pretend. Like I’d smeared on my mother’s lipstick and waddled out of the house in her high heels thinking it made me an adult.

I finally spotted the various sizes on offer, then got distracted as Greid rattled off his drink order and about six different food items, including something called a blood tart, which made me side-eye him. After telling the barista what size I wanted, Greid held his phone to the little machine in front of the register before I realised what he was doing.

I gave his arm a gentle thump as we moved to the side to wait. “I wanted to pay for that!”

“Oh. Sorry.” Greid shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Well, you only ordered a tiny coffee and I got a load of food, so it wouldn’t have been fair anyway.”

I huffed and went to argue, but got distracted when a barista leaned over the counter to hand Greid a big paper bag with the Deep Brew logo on the front. He immediately pulled a pastry out and bit into it, and—yep. The little square tart was definitely filled with something thick, jellified and very dark red.

Stomach roiling a little, I asked, “Is that really a… Is that really blood?”

“Uh-huh,” Greid answered through a mouthful.

“What kind of blood?”

He swallowed and looked down at me, yellow eyes solemn. “Do you really want to know?”

“What?” My stomach jolted, and I cast the half-eaten tart a fearful look. “It’s not… Is it..?”

When he snickered, I huffed and punched his arm again. “Dork.”

He grinned at me before stuffing the rest in his mouth. “Just pig’s blood,” he told me, spraying a few crumbs onto the front of his suit. I absently reached up to brush them away.

He froze, and his gulp was audible as he swallowed the rest. Eyes darting nervously, he cleared his throat and shoved his hand back into the bag, this time pulling out a croissant.

“Want one?” he blurted, before stuffing half into his mouth.

I pursed my lips to hide my smile, shaking my head. “I’m okay thanks.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter Sixteen

Greid

By the time we made it back home, I was drained.

Usually when I went out, it was for an hour or two at the most. I’d started flagging around midday, my tolerance for people and noise and the buzzing hum of electric lights reaching its limit, but I hadn’t said anything to Beryl. She’d been so excited to be able to walk around as a “normal person”, with no one looking at her twice.

Well, except for the humans who’d cast her appreciative glances as she passed them, which had made me want to scowl at all of them.

She’d stuck close to me on the busy streets, our arms constantly brushing as we walked. After breakfast, we’d taken the subway out of the Cimmerian District and into the heart of the city. She’d never taken the subway before, saying that when she’d been able to go into the city with a few other cult members, they’d always been dropped off in the same area, a quieter one with a very low demiurgus population, and told not to go too far.

The subway was pretty gross. Dirty and always crowded and stinking of fumes. But Beryl had stared in awe at the high vaulted ceilings and gleaming black walls of the Cimmerian District’s station, which was a little nicer than others.

When we’d got off at Umbral Square, the train and platform had both been packed, people pushing to get off and fighting their way through the waiting crowds. Beryl had hurriedly tucked her small hand into mine so we didn’t lose each other, looking a little spooked as we wove our way off the platform.

My palm had immediately started sweating, but I’d clutched on tight, my dual hearts racing.

We’d wandered around Umbral Square for a while, with Beryl staring, transfixed, at the street performers and wanting to stop and look in the windows of every tourist trap store with overpriced souvenirs. She’d been amazed by the huge demiurgus-made theatre, which advertised its long-running production of Deep Earth!, a light-hearted musical about the demiurgus’ first journey to the surface centuries ago.

It wasn’t a hot day, but I’d noticed her staring at the retro ice cream place on the corner, so we’d gotten cones to eat while sitting by the big fountain in the centre of the square. She’d gotten two scoops of strawberry, but I’d seen her sneakily eyeing up my dark chocolate, so I’d let her taste it and tried very, very hard not to think about her tongue being on the same thing as mine.

After that, we’d taken the subway to the Human History Museum, because I’d figured she probably hadn’t learned all that much about her own people’s history, instead having had to learn all about mine. She’d been fascinated by the Ancient Egypt exhibition, especially when I pointed out the hieroglyphs that were now believed to be depictions of demiurgus who had ventured to the surface long before we’d made our grand arrival.

By 3 p.m., Beryl had suggested we head home. She’d still been bright-eyed and eager, but I thought she might have sensed how tense and tired I was growing, even though I’d tried my best to hide it. I couldn’t contain my sigh of relief when we finally stepped over the threshold into my house, already loosening the tie around my neck.

“That was so much fun,” Beryl said as she leaned down to take off her sandals. “Thank you so much, Greid.”

“That’s okay,” I said awkwardly, tugging off my boots. “We can do it again soon. If you want.”

“Yes, please. Maybe not for a little while, though.” She straightened and gave me a smile. “It was great, but I haven’t ever been around that many people for so long before. I think I need a few days to recharge.”

I didn’t know if that was actually true or if she was saying it because she’d sensed how much it drained me to be out for so long. I gave her a tiny, grateful smile and nodded. “Whenever you want.”

Beryl rubbed her arms. “It’s so nice and warm in here.”

My eyes immediately dropped to her bare feet. They looked so small. Cute. But they were a little pink, and I realised she’d been wearing sandals all day. It wasn’t necessarily cold, but definitely not summer-warm.

And she didn’t even have a jacket. Just a thin shirt. Berating myself, I made a secret decision that she might not like and said, “I’m gonna go change.”