He turns down the burner and sets the metal tongs on the counter next to the oven. “If making you breakfast means I get to wake up next to you, then I’ll gladly cook every damn morning.” He turns and takes me in his arms, lips going to my neck. My eyes flutter shut, and I arch my neck, moaning softly as I bring my arms up, fingers catching on the bandage on his arm.
“Shit, sorry,” I say and open my eyes. “I should change that, and did you take your morning antibiotic yet?”
“Not yet. I’ll wait until breakfast is done.” He looks at the gauze around his arm. “You’re not bothered by blood?”
I cock an eyebrow. “I feel like we just had this don’t stereotype me talk,” I joke. “And I better not be bothered by blood since I assist with surgeries at work.”
“Right.” He starts to ball up his t-shirt, which I’m still wearing, and kisses me again. The bacon on the stovetop pops, and we break apart so I can get my first aid supplies and he can flip the bacon. I put everything on the table and motion for him to sit.
“Does it hurt?” I ask as I carefully unwrap the gauze.
“It doesn’t feel good,” he replies. “But it’s not too bad.”
“Sure,” I say, not believing him. “I hate when I get a paper cut, and here you are acting like three deep cuts from demon claws are no big deal.”
“Paper cuts are fucking painful,” he says, and we both laugh. “And you use your fingers for everything.”
“Yeah, you do.” I wiggle my eyebrows, and he brings his non-injured arm around me. I get the gauze off and grimace when I see his skin. “This looks bad, Ethan. Really bad. I think you should go get real stitches.”
Ethan looks down at his arm. “It’s not pretty. Jules usually does better than that.”
“I think she did pretty well, considering.” I toss the bloody gauze in the trash and twist the cap off a bottle of peroxide. “This screams infection. Can I please take you to the ER for real medical treatment?”
“We don’t have time for that.”
“Right now, we do,” I go on and try to appeal to his logical side. “And say this does get infected and you become septic. You can’t protect me when you’re dying of a blood infection.” I wet another piece of gauze with the peroxide and dab it against the wound, which bubbles immediately. “I’m worried, okay?” I look into his eyes. “What if it were me?”
Ethan’s jaw tenses and then he sighs. “I would have driven you to the hospital right away.”
“Exactly. Can I take you?”
“After breakfast?”
I smile. “Yeah. We can’t waste that bacon.”
“Invite them over,” Ethan says, glancing down at my phone. Harrison started a group text along with Laney, asking if I’m still alive since I dropped a bomb on them yesterday, telling them demons want me dead, and haven’t said a word since. “It’s hard to maintain friendships once you’re involved with monsters,” he adds gently. “But Laney has been your friend for years and your brother is family. Being open and honest is probably the best way to go, and I kinda can’t believe I’m suggesting that.”
After spending several hours waiting in the ER for Ethan to get properly patched up, we went to his dad’s place to look through more books. I tried drawing the bird-demon for Julia, but it ended up looking like something a child drew when trying to illustrate their nightmare. It’s late in the evening now, and we’re back at my house, going through my Book of Shadows for any sort of clue to why Aunt Estelle would bind my powers, but so far, I haven’t found any other spells specific to me other than the binding spell.
“Let’s go ahead and assume we kill the high-level demon who sent the Pricolici after me. Do you think other demons will attack?”
“I suppose it really comes down to why this demon wants to kill you in the first place.”
I tap the screen of my phone to keep it from locking, then look up at Ethan. “If the demon sending bounty hunters after me is so powerful, why doesn’t it just attack me itself?”
“I wondered that too,” Ethan admits. “And I’m guessing it has something to do with your fire power. Being able to—” He throws a hand out, holding it up like his fingers are on fire. “—burn something to the ground easily makes you dangerous.”
“I’d be a lot more dangerous if I knew how to control the firepowers.”
“You’ll get a hang of it. I don’t know how to teach you how to use your powers, but if we think of it like any other skill, just keep trying.”
“And hope I don’t burn the house down.”