Chapter 16: The Bond

(Snow's POV)

I slowly wake up from the most restful sleep I've had in years, my face pressed into soft red striped fabric with a comforting woodsy moss scent, laced with notes of coffee, whiskey, and blood.

It's nice. The scent is comforting.

My ears twitch, picking up on any noises.

The quiet sounds of a fireplace burning, and a soft crackle of radio static from the chest my face was on, were the only noises in the room.

We were sitting on a sofa, my body curled into his, his arm draped over me as I had held his coat in a death grip in my sleep.

I pull back gently, sitting up slightly, blinking away the sleep in my eyes as I look around the room.

The library?

I suppose that makes sense, he knows that I'm comfortable here, and it's neutral territory.

We're on the sofa across from a green fire burning in the fireplace, and a red blanket is tossed over me, the hand he had draped over me gripping the material.

I tilt my head, my eyes narrowing in thought.

He must feel it too.

I wonder if I should test my theory though? Or leave it be? Is it too soon? Probably.

But predators like us don't simply relax in another's company like this normally. He has to have felt something... Or at least he is now.

This is the first time I've felt a connection like this, connected to me.

I don't know what to do. I guess I should do what I normally do then, and rely on my instincts.

His face is softened in sleep. That ever present smile, simply a small tilt in the corners of his lips, his monocle that must have fallen in his sleep, as it now lay on his shoulder, and his ears were twitching sleepily, still alert to possible threats.

He is a breathtakingly gorgeous individual, it simply wasn't fair to my heart. While my brain was overly analytical, it didn't mean I couldn't tell that someone was attractive. I am pansexual after all, even if I fell into the demi-romantic spectrum.

Normally I was able to flip an internal switch, and look at everyone platonically.

That just didn't seem to work with him.

I wonder if that cord I could feel between us had something to do with it? I could almost see it when I had partiality shifted forms. I wonder if I can see it, if I fully shift into my demon form? Or do I need to get stronger first? Am I the only one who can really see/feel the cords? What do they really mean? I had my theories, but they were just that theories. I had no tangible proof of anything.

I have so many questions, and none of the books have been able to help with this topic.

I sit up more, reaching out to gently fix Alastor's monocle, only to have both the wrist of the hand holding the small corrective eye piece, and my neck held firmly in his sharp claws as his red eyes snap open, meeting my icey blue ones.

My breath hitches, but I don't startle. My body was reacting to his grip on me, in a way that had my cheeks lightly flush.

"And what pray tell, were your intentions putting hands on my person?" His sleepy static filled voice questions.

"I was attempting to wright, your fallen eye piece without waking you. Seems I failed. Though in hindsight, I suppose it makes sense that you would be more aware in your sleep than I. Your form is based on a prey animal, and you have spent more time in Hell. You would be more cautious, especially when sleeping." I calmly give a rambling reply, shifting my ears like I would if I had tilted my head.

"I truly wonder if you hold no fear at times like this, or if you are simply a marvelous actress." His eyes narrow on mine. "I could have killed you." He gave my neck the smallest squeeze, barely a twitch of his fingers, only just enough to feel it. It causes my breath to hitch again, my face flushing slightly once more.

"To be scared, one has to fear death. Something I've already explained." I state. "And if you wanted to kill me, my head would already have been across the room." I give him a small smile, and a wry chuckle.

"You are an intriguing creature." His thumb seems to unconsciously rub circles on my pulse point in my neck.

My next words cause him to freeze. "You can feel it too, can't you?"

He seems to take a few seconds to collect himself, before he replied. "I don't understand what you mean." He averts his gaze looking at the fireplace.

"You do. Instead of your predatory instincts simply taking my head off, your claws haven't even punctured my skin. If it had been any other demon, they wouldn't have even had time to scream, would they?" My response was said with a calm I don't think either of us truly felt.

"Do you know what is happening?" His eyes snap back to mine narrowing once more, sharpening slightly.

"Not exactly. I can feel a cord, a connection, between our souls. I don't know how, and I don't exactly know wh-" He interrupts me.

"You don't exactly know? You do have a theory though?"

"I do..." I say, trailing off for a moment to think of my next words. "The only other times I've felt something similar, was interacting with couples who were especially close to each other. It was never tied to me, only between the souls involved in the relationship though. This is the first time I've felt something like this tied to my own soul."

"Are you suggesting that our souls are tied?" He snaps.

I flinch. "N-not the way you probably think."

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, loosening his hold on me. "I apologize, I didn't mean to startle you. Then what do you mean by 'tied'."

I shake my head. "Alastor, you are not the one who makes me uncomfortable. It's the memories that come involuntarily in response to certain things."

"That I understand all too well. Continue."

I take a breath to steady myself. "I think the cords are the bonds between soul mates. But that theory is just that, a theory. I have no proof to back it, other than the pull between us. And the bond I witnessed between my parents, before my dad died."

His gaze becomes less sharp, but I could see the hesitation in it. He was quiet for a long time, before he spoke again. "Do not expect anything from me."

I tilt my head. "Alastor, I would never ask for more than what you are comfortable. And I would hope you would show me that same respect. We are both broken, Alastor. Maybe with time that will change, and maybe it won't." I give him a sad smile. "I don't expect a relationship. Though it does seem we are already close enough to be considered friends, if that's alright with you?"

He hesitates for a while, having an internal war with himself, before choosing to stay quiet. Relaxing his hold on me completely.

I nod a little solemnly. "You don't have to make a decision now. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me, it sounds like the extermination has already started, so the others may be up sooner than normal." I use my shadow travel to melt away out of his grip, and reappear in the kitchen to start breakfast.

Holding onto the counter to steady myself, as I tried to calm the raging emotions in my chest. I hated crying. I would not let this possible rejection get the better of me.

It was going to be a long day.

...

I was on my... 5th? 6th? 7th? (I don't remember how many exactly) batch of muffins this morning, when Angel, walked into the kitchen.

"Heya sugar tits, how ya do...in'" Angel trails off for a moment looking wide eyed at the pile of muffins, then at me zoning out mixing together another batch of batter. "What the hell happened to you? Are you hoping to bake enough for the exterminators to leave Hell?"

"Hmm?" I look up at the spider.

"Ah, shit. Are ya okay up in that snowy white head a' yers?"

"What makes you think otherwise?" I look at the multiple types of muffins stacked, and cooling on half the kitchen island. Crinkling my nose at how carried away I had gotten. I always did like baking when I was bored or upset. "I simply didn't know what everyone's favorite was, and muffins freeze well." I dodge the question. "This batch is pumpkin chocolate chip, and the three in the ovens are crustless mini quiche with different fillings. I know some residents prefer savory foods, and others sweet." I pause to glare at Angel, as he snatched two muffins closer to the base of the stack, destabilizing the muffin tower. Making the spider flinch. "Put those back. I've made sure to put a plate of each on the table as they come out of the oven, each plate has a note next to it with the name and recipe on it."

He gently placed them back where he got them, holding up his hands and backing away slowly. "You got it toots, just don't eat me!"

I tilt my head looking him up and down once. "You don't look like the type I'd like to eat, and you haven't pissed me off enough yet for me to take a bite out of you...Yet."

Angel blinks a few times like he was stunned. "Did you just make a sex joke?"

The timer goes off, so I reply as I move to pull the pans out of the oven, placing newly filled ones in their place. "A sex joke, and a cannibal joke, my fluffy friend. Do keep up."

"The cannibal joke was more expected, with how ya hang out with both cannibal Overlords. I was expectin' ya ta be too much of a prude, to crack a good ol' fashion sex joke." Angel commented, sitting down on a stool at the island counter, and propping up his head with one arm.

"Angel, I am touch adverse, but I'm a progressive modern woman. And for your information on future inquiries, I am pansexual, and on the demi-romantic spectrum. I have an open mind on everything as long as it involves consenting adults, and am willing to talk about it, but I will not be participating in anything." I say as I stack more baked goods to the side to cool.

"Oooh. What's with the sparks going on between you, and freaky face, then?" Angel unknowingly pokes a soft spot.

I pause my movements. "I refuse to elaborate on what I do not know myself."

"Awww, come on! This morning is the first time I've seen that ya have clearly been alone for longer than an hour. Usually ya either have, smiles, or his shadow, around ya." He reaches out for one of the fresh mini quiche, snatching his hand back and blowing on it, when I plop one of the steaming egg cups in his hand.

"We are grown demons, Angel. He has work he needs to do too, and it is the perfect day for paperwork."

He nods, taking a bite. "This is good."

"Thanks." I reply, going back to filling the empty pans with the last of my batter.

...

I had apparently made six different types of muffins, and three type of mini quiche. All of which were well received by everyone, except a certain redheaded deer demon that had yet to show his face near me.

Fine. If he wanted to play that game, I'd make it easy.

I placed his coffee on the dining table, along with a plate of breakfast, for Nifty to deliver, and went back to the kitchen to prep lunch and dinner. Once that was done I didn't bother leaving the kitchen the normal way, I shadowed myself to my room, and started my sewing projects for the curtains and sheets in my room. Only leaving via the shadows, to prepare everyone's meals, and shadow myself right back.

I grew antsy the longer the extermination carried on, listening to the screams and gun shots of the city.

As most of the residents got ready for bed once again, I made my way to the lobby, a bad plan in mind that went up in smoke when I seen the cat demon still manning the bar, wiping down the bar-top.

"Interesting." I tilt my head. "Have you decided to not drink as much during the extermination?"

He grunts. "Well hello to you too."

I blink. "Ah, apologies. Hello, Husk."

He paused for a moment. "Wasn't aware you knew my name, you normally call me by something else."

I walk over a slide onto one of the stools. "I'm bad with names, but fantastic at facial recognition, so most of the time unless I'm particularly fond of a name, it takes time to me to remember what name goes to which face. The nicknames save me the trouble, of asking over and over in the meantime. "

He looks taken aback. "You're telling me that you're just bad with names...? You didn't seem to have a problem with Alastor's." He pours himself a drink.

"Al, was easier to remember. Albert was a family name... And I had my fun with the deer puns, for a whole day before that." I wave it off.

The cat spits out the swig he had been taking. "And he let you?!"

"Yes, yes. Do keep up old man." I roll my eyes. "He was the one following me around the whole morning. It's amazing what one can get away with, if neither party truly knows what to make of the other... Do you happen to have something besides alcohol back there? Maybe juice used for mixed drinks?" I change the subject.

"No, I don't serve the sissy stuff. Try this." He grumbles, sliding a glass of iced liquor my direction.

My eye twitches as I look at it with disdain, sliding it back to the bartender with one finger. "I don't care for alcohol, that's why I asked about the juice. Alcohol, and drugs, were never my sins." I jump down off the stool. "Since you don't have the juice. If someone needs me, I'll be in the ballroom fixing the stage." I walked off towards my destination, leaving Husk as he downed the drink, staring at my retreating form perplexed.

...

I tugged on Dex's chain as I entered the tattered ballroom, checkingto see if they were awake, I had a surprise planned for the end of the extermination, and needed them to properly prepare themselves.

I quickly texted them, the information they needed, and asked that they finalized everything before taking a nap.

I had been using the same methods, checking on my contracted souls through their chains, throughout the extermination. It seemed like the place I had built on the edge of Pentagram city in neutral territory, had gone unnoticed like I had wanted.

I had tested it briefly with Rosie, so I knew only high level demons, or demons with detection skills, should be able to find it.

It was a gamble on the angels though. But why go for hidden prey, when there's plenty running around in plain sight.

It still made me antsy. I didn't like having my teams out of my reach in times of danger. It made me want to go out and check on them all physically, which during an extermination, was a bad idea.

So instead here I was, prepping the broken stage for another performance. Placing a coat of sparkling ice on the floor of the stage, and using my ice magic to create two walls of ice in the back, the middle holding the different colors of my flames blending, and shifting together, creating different swirling clouds of color.

When picking up some of the broken props behind the ice wall, to move them out of the way, I cut my hand on a jagged edge. The blood pooling in my palm, before I used my ice magic to freeze the wound, putting a temporary stop to the the flow so I could continue with my objective.

I must have gotten lost in what I was doing, because I couldn't tell you how much time had passed when a shadow zoomed passed my vision.

It was only moments later that I was pushed up against the my wall of ice, by my shoulders. A frantic looking redheaded deer demon staring down at me, his breathing coming out in pants, as he reaches out for my wounded hand, pulling it towards him. Allowing me to see the ring of dying flesh beginning to form, because I failed to adjust the temperature of the surface of the ice. It had begun killing the flesh around it.

It took a moment to find my voice. "What are yo-"

His sharp gaze locked with mine, cutting off my train of thought. "You released a substantial amount of magic, then I smell your blood, only for it to stop, and instead a scent of dying flesh to come from the area. What the hell was I supposed to think had happened, during an extermination."

My eyes flash with understanding. "You thought I died... And it upset you."

His own eyes flashed with frustration. "I don't know what to think. My entire being was frantic at the thought of someone else spilling your blood, but the next thought of your body decaying, and never hearing you sing again, sent a need to rip and tear everyone to shreds, through me like no other." He leaned his forehead to mine with a rough 'thump', looking into my eyes, his breathing slowly evening out. "And for once, the object of thought wasn't the object of bloodlust."

"The thought of losing me, made you want to rampage." I simplify his stream of thought. "Am I really the only one to trigger this reaction that you don't want to kill?"

He gives me a look of exasperation, huffing lightly as he rolls his eyes. Pulling my injured hand closer to his face to examine the damage.

"Drama king." I joke softly, I use the injured hand that he had close to his face, to poke his nose.

His eye twitches. "Watch it, little fox. Or you may lose a finger."

I laugh lightly, giving him a grin. "Oh? Oh no! Big scary Radio Demon is going to eat me up, huh." I smirk when he coughs out a small laugh. Successfully breaking the tension.

"You're a menace." His lips twitch like he wants to frown.

"Of course, darling! You wouldn't like me any other way." I giggle back.