The Daemon's Disguise (Sequel to He Was A Dog + previously Out There)

Out There (Sequel to He Was A Dog) - Chapter 7

Chapter 7-

Blue:

“And then the handsome prince raced down the path, sword unsheathed, to save the beautiful-” I glanced down at Elijah. My own little prince had fallen asleep somewhere between the princess being stolen away by the dragon and the prince deciding to save her, mouth wide open like a little guppy fish.

Smiling, I tucked him back in to bed, trailing my fingers over the soft expanse of his cheek. It physically hurt to imagine him as an acne-ridden teenager; the thought of his skin being anything but its current smoothness was heinous.

“Is he out?” Marshall asked as I came through to the living room. My brother had positioned himself languidly across the sofa, feet up as he flicked absently through the television channels. A solitary lamp flickered in the corner, shadows dancing across the wide expanse of floor beneath my feet.

I nodded, flopping down on the armchair. It had been a long week; Br- Phillip had been in the office most days, arriving long before I did and the last one to leave at night. The sideward glances in his direction and the failed attempts not to meet his gaze during boardroom meetings meant that I had been glad to get out of there on Friday evening.

It was beginning to become ridiculous.

 “Blue, when are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Marshall asked, turning the television off. I jumped, looking at him in confusion. Marshall, bless his heart, had never been in-tune with the female mind, which was probably why he’d remained resolutely single since we’d moved to London. But now he was staring at me with the same pensive blue eyes I saw each morning in the mirror, lips set into a worried grimace.

Swallowing, I ran my fingers through my hair, wondering just how much I could tell him. He knew nothing about the Realm – that, of course, was a given – and the information regarding Elijah’s paternity was sketchy at best. All I’d told him was that he wasn’t in the picture and was unlikely to be back for a while.

“I-” The words caught in the back of my throat, my fingers threading themselves together nervously. “Elijah’s dad…”

Marshall’s eyes widened further, and his position on the sofa went from one of utmost relaxation to leaning over the edge, feet planted firmly on the ground.

“What about him?” His voice came out in a low growl, eyebrows knitting together in a scowl that seemed almost alien on his face.

And suddenly the situation began to weigh down on me, pressing so hard that I could hardly breathe. The choked sobs racked at my chest, my chin dropping downwards as I looked at my lap. How had it reached this stage? How had I become a woman in my early twenties, sobbing my heart out to my older brother?

Arms enveloped me in a tight hug as Marshall moved across the room. I noted vaguely that the last time Marshall and I had hugged like this was when we were both too young to care. But now I held onto him as though he was a lifeline, burying my face in his shoulder as he rubbed my back soothingly. My brother’s scent filled my nose, and I was transported back to when I was living at home – the safe smell of soap and sandalwood.

I looked up at him with watery eyes, and he looked back sadly.

“What about him?” Marshall repeated, his voice softer and his hand moving in small circles across my upper back.

“He’s back.” I swallowed, trying to reduce the croaky quality of my voice. “He’s my new boss.” Marshall’s sharp intake of breath was the only indication of just how angry he was. Otherwise, he just stayed still, obviously waiting for me to elaborate.