Page 74 of Hell Burns Between Us

The truth was, the tea was a variation of his favourite—slightly spicier than what he’d ordered in the past when they’d stood outside a tea cart exchanging notes. The first time they’d met he had mentioned that he wished it had a bit more punch to it, maybe pepper would be interesting. This had been so long ago he himself had forgotten his offhanded comment.

Perine hadn’t. She’d remembered.

It almost hurt to be seen so clearly; which is why he deflected his emotions into supercilious responses. Showing her how deeply he was affected would likely unravel him.

She gave him a calculating look before deciding to move on to tea for herself. She liked her tea with heaps of herbs and light citrusy notes, like a stroll through a summer garden. She asked his opinion on each tin of dried tea until he finally gave his consent to one that wasn’t entirely awful. He watched with a mixture of confusion and gratification when her eyes danced with delight and she rushed to purchase a rather large sack of that very tea. He kept his face neutral but couldn’t help that his chest swelled with something like pride at the thought that she valued his opinion so highly.

They argued incessantly. She liked classic brewing techniques when he knew for certain they were overly laborious and needlessly tedious. He preferred having any magical ingredients he needed to be delivered to his home, which earned him an indignant speech about the virtues of gathering your own ingredients personally. She preferred her tea herbal—disgustingly so— when he knew the best tea was strong, rich—and after a dash of milk—delightfully creamy.

Yet, no matter the disagreement, he couldn’t find it within him to scowl at her. In fact, his cheeks began to burn from grinning at her for so long.

A faun with thick, silky fur sprang before them. “Brightmore! Lucky I should find you here. I’ve got the yarn you were pestering me for.”

Oleander silently tried to convey with his eyes to the faun—Zinnia, who he’d been buying from for many years—that now was not the time. Also, pestering was an exaggeration. He’d merely been passionate, exuberant even, and reminded the faun that they’d made a deal an entire week ago for new grey yarn.

Alas, Zinnia did not understand his eye-message. Instead she said, “If you’d like, you can come to my booth and get the skeins now.”

“Oleander,” Perine turned to look at him, amusement sparkling in her eyes. “Just how much more yarn do you need?”

He cleared his throat. “This is… special yarn. Also, I have a normal amount of yarn.”

Later, with a bag of magical faun yarn in hand, Oleander bargained away four nightmares and a daydream for large plates of potato puffs with apple compote and two steaming mugs of spiced wine. He had predicted that Perine would object to the wine, but she’d accepted it cheerfully, cradling the warm mug in her hands as she sipped with immense enjoyment.

When her bag was filled with a ludicrous amount of illegally acquired ingredients and they were both contentedly happy, Oleander made his move to wave goodbye. At least, he had meant to. But before he could, Perine threw her arms around his neck in the tightest, most genuine hug he’d ever experienced.

He tried very hard to keep his emotions under control. Even Perine would find him strange if he cried over something as simple as a hug.

Before she could embarrass him further by thanking him again, Oleander cleared his throat and muttered a gruff goodbye. He turned, hoping to leave without drawing attention to himself. But then he glanced back at her, watching as she pulled herself onto Zila’s back.

Before he could second-guess himself, he called out.

Perine turned, and he took a deep breath.

“Can I… can I tell you something?”

It was probably the two cups of spiced wine, though more likely it had been the unexpected hug, the warmth of it still thrumming under his skin. Whatever the reason, Oleander found himself leading her to a dimly lit teahouse where they served steaming pots of tea and every kind of savoury biscuit one could imagine. He ordered them a sweet chilli tea, but then at the shocked look on Perine’s face he allowed her to change their order to something that she claimed would be more refreshing.

They slipped into a corner behind a potted pink-leafed tree, hidden from prying eyes, and before he could think better of it, he spilled his secrets. Under the gentle lights of the teahouse he told her everything.

About the shadow inside him, the dark weight of it clawing at his chest as he tried to choke the words out. He did his best to explain what little he understood, and shared the meagre research he’d managed to scrape together—none of it good.

Exactly two tears slipped down his cheek, but he wiped them away hastily before she could see. Her disguised amber eyes widened and she reached out for his hand, wrapping her slightly calloused fingers around his. He stared at their hands interwoven and pointedly did not think about the way his stomach was flipping at the casual way they were touching. His hand was quite possibly on fire.

Forcing himself to think about anything but the way their skin was pressed together, Oleander focused on explaining his situation in clear, distinct details.

Perine listened quietly, and eventually asked, “Sorry, I want to make sure I understand you correctly. They sacrificed five demoness souls?”

“Yes.”

“Why not a mix? Why only demoness souls?”

“It’s how it’s always done, isn’t it?” Oleander almost whispered, filled with a self loathing sort of shame.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought… well, you mean you really don’t know?” he asked slowly. Perine shook her head, her eyes were wary though, filled with a building dread. “You should have a grandmother, a great-grandmother. Haven’t you wondered what happened to them?”

“Right,” she said briskly. While she was visibly shaken he watched her carefully fold her emotions back until she was calm and collected once more. “Of course… Just one more thing I failed to realise.” She took a long drink from her tea, finishing it quickly, refilling it and drinking the second cup as quickly as the first. She blew out a steadying breath and said, “We’re here to talk about you and your… predicament though. So, let’s focus on that for now.”