Loving Demons

LOVING DEMONS FAE REVEALED BOOK THREE KATE MAY QUINN ARTHURS EXPRESSO PUBLISHING, LLC Copyright © 2023 by Kate May and Quinn Arthurs All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Cover by Claire Holt of Luminescence Covers Edited by Lindsey Loucks of Midnight Library To everyone who is unsure of their place in life and wish they can change into someone else. CONTENTS Foreword Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Epilogue Afterword Acknowledgments About the Author About the Author Also by Kate May Also by Quinn Arthurs FOREWORD Please be aware of the following triggers, including but not limited to: chronic illness, depression, self-harm, suicidal ideation, drug use, sexual assault, and torture. Readers’ discretion is advised. CHAPTER ONE SERAFINA Murder I can deal with. Birthday parties? That’s cruel and unusual torture. Especially a fae birthday party. When I’d been invited to Tristan’s party, I was thrilled. It was a lovely distraction from the last month of classes, training, and learning supe history and culture. It always feels like there’s so much more for me to learn, so much more that I’m lost on. Learning about an entire culture while dealing with corpses in your bed is a fairly daunting task. It was only after I’d had time to consider it that I began to worry. Are supe birthday parties the same as human ones? Even if they are, I’ve only ever been to family parties, and I doubt our tradition of offering up a new weapon for training and beating the living daylights out of each other would be a fun pastime for any of my new friends. Well, except for maybe V, if he’s what qualifies as a friend. Sexy eye candy that I fight the urge to murder on a regular basis is probably a more apt description. I shift the brightly wrapped present I’m carrying to my left hand, reaching down to tug the hem of my cranberry dress straight and line up the tops of my white, thigh-high socks. I blow out a breath as I study the house in front of me. I’m still not used to how the leaves here change with the seasons, but the few shades of orange and yellow I see glint on the trees, standing out in contrast to the white bricks and curving columns of the manor house. The red door is nearly blinding in the late afternoon sunset, a bloody welcome into the unknown. The door cracks open, and Tristan offers me a shy grin, his hair flopping down into his eyes. His golden-retriever energy has been subdued since the truth about his cousin was revealed. Kian’s pain tore something in Tristan, something he has yet to completely fix. “Happy birthday,” I offer with a smile of my own, holding out the carefully wrapped present to him. The anger I felt at his treatment of Kian has dimmed over the past several weeks. Tristan had been a child himself when everything began, and I’ve watched him work hard to apologize to Kian over and over again. All of the guys have been working to mend those bridges, and it’s been nice to see the hesitant bond that seems to be reforming between them. I really hope it can last. Besides, we all have more important things to deal with at the moment. Like…a dead serial killer ending up in my bed with absolutely no leads to tell us who killed him and why they placed him in my bedroom to begin with. But a problem for another time. “Thanks for coming,” Tristan says, taking the present from my hands and ushering me inside. It looks so…normal, I realize, glancing around the room. Streamers and balloons are spread throughout the wide living room done in shades of white and blue. Spirals of ribbon hang from thick, heavy-looking beams that are spread across the ceiling. A shiny, metallic banner spells out the words, “Happy Birthday, Tristan” and drapes across the unlit fireplace. Low tables are covered in blue tablecloths and stacked with white bowls loaded with chips and other snacks. I’m not sure if I should be disappointed or relieved. For all I know, there could be an orgy or a sacrifice necessary this evening. From what I’ve learned in my lessons with Avril, neither of those would technically be out of the running. I probably could have asked Avril at our last meeting, but it seemed awkward to ask about a party she wasn’t invited to, though I’m kicking myself slightly for the propriety at the moment. I really wore the wrong underwear if we’re all stripping down. I force the thought away as a chuckle draws my attention, and I turn a stare to where Xander leans casually against the wall, a small smirk tugging up the corner of his lips as he swirls a dark liquid in a tall glass. I glare at him, refusing to let my eyes stray over his body and inspect the way his elegantly cut, three-piece suit offers me a glimpse at the hard body I’m sure lies underneath. It takes me a moment to see Devyn beside him, hidden amongst the shadows that weave lightly around Xander’s form. A knot in my stomach slowly relaxes at the sight of him, though he looks like he’s actually asleep, propped up in the corner behind his twin. I haven’t had a chance to spend much time with him since his release from the hospital, despite showing up when I was attacked