LITMIR.BIZ

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black coffee and three pains au chocolat. That was the first course for him. He would go in for the potatoes next.

      “I’m not sure what I want,” she said, setting down the menu. “I feel hungry. Or do I?”

      “You can have one of my pastries and then order something later if you’re still hungry.” He noticed her scowl. “It’s not a test, Jett. You can try as many things as you like.”

      She managed a roundabout shrug-nod. He assumed it was overwhelming for her to be someplace so simple as a sidewalk café after coming from—Well, he wasn’t going to ask about it. He’d wait until she brought it up. It seemed the kindest thing to do.

      “Paris smells like I remember. Old, yet hopeful,” she said after the waitress dropped off Savin’s order. She accepted a plate with one of his pastries on it and picked up a fork. “And the fountain down the street sounds so happy.”

      He’d forgotten about that fountain. A guy could hear it if he really listened. He’d lived here so long it had faded into the background. Just another city sound. What his senses were most focused to? Demons. They brandished a distinctive hum to their aura. If one walked close enough to him, it registered as a twinge in his veins. Some, he even smelled the sulfur. And while they could cast a sheen over that hum, the scent and their innate red pupils, if Savin caught sight of them at the right angle, the red glinted.

      Jett paused with her fork poised over the pastry. “Can I ask you a few things?”

      “Of course. Ask away.”

      “You were sending demons back into Daemonia last night, yes?”

      “You bet. I’m a reckoner, Jett.”

      “That is what I guessed. How did you ever come to do such a thing? And, uh...just how long have you been...back?”

      He set down the pastry and brushed the crumbs from his beard. She wouldn’t like hearing this, but he wasn’t going to lie to her. Savin had a thing about loyalty to friends. He didn’t know any other way to exist.

      “I’ve been back,” he said, “since I was ten.”

      Her jaw dropped open and the fork hit the plate with a clink. “But you were ten then. When we...” She pressed her fingers to her mouth, and her eyes averted to study the sidewalk.

      “I was in Daemonia for what felt like weeks,” he offered. “Maybe a month?”

      “Time doesn’t exist there,” she said softly. The fragile pain in her tone cut Savin to the core. Should he have been so forthright?

      “Right. No way to measure time there,” he said. “But I did find a way out.”

      “That’s so good for you.” Her smile was again brief. Not easy. “And...your parents were there for you?”

      “As soon as my feet hit mortal ground outside the wicked forest, I ran back home through the lavender field and straight into my house. My parents were over the moon. I didn’t think my mom would ever stop hugging me.”

      Jett’s eyes still did not meet his, and he could imagine what she was thinking. How she had lost that opportunity for a cheery family reunion. Hell, he shouldn’t have mentioned that part.

      “I tried to explain what happened, but they thought me...” He twirled a forefinger near his temple. “And when your parents asked me where you were, I didn’t know what to say. Would they believe a kid who said some strange force sucked us into a different realm? Kids always get accused of having wild imaginations. And I remember your mom, in particular, was Catholic.”

      Jett nodded. Smirked at the memory. “To the extreme. So much guilt.”

      “Right. Religion is...not for me. Anyway, after giving it some thought, I decided that being lured into the woods by a stranger and the two of us being separated was the only story they’d believe. That’s when the police arrived. They questioned me for hours. I cried a lot.”

      “I imagine so.”

      Savin lifted his chin and swallowed. Ignoring the stir of the Other within, he reached across the table and touched her fingers. “Those tears were for you, Jett. I just wanted you back.”

      She nodded and yet pulled her fingers from under his touch. Wrapping her arms tightly across her chest, she leaned forward, protecting herself as best she could. “Were my parents upset?”

      “Inconsolable.” He waited until she finally gave him her gaze. That soft brown stare that had once teased, cajoled and challenged him. “They loved you, Jett. But I know it was difficult for them to accept that I returned and you did not. Nothing was the same after that.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Well.” How to say it kindly? Surely, she might seek her parents now. And while he’d been but a kid, Savin had understood exactly what had occurred in the neighbors’ house down the street in those months following his return. The truth needed to be told. “Your parents split up about a year after it happened. I was still young and only heard the whispers from my parents, but I understood that your father moved out of the country.”

      “He did? That’s... Wow.” She sat back on the metal chair and pulled up a knee to hug against her chest.

      “And your mother...”

      “My mother?”

      “What was her name again?”

      “Josette. Josette and Charles Montfort.”

      “Right.” Savin raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m not sure what happened to Josette. After your dad left, my parents told me never to speak to Madame Montfort because I’d upset her. So I walked the long way around the neighborhood to get to school. Not that I stayed in school much longer than a few years.”

      “But you were ready to enter middle school?”

      “I managed middle school. Barely. My mom called it ADD. I knew differently. I dropped out in the first year of high school. The whole world, and the way I saw it, was never the same after—Well, I’m sure you understand. Anyway, I moved to the city when I was seventeen and lost touch completely with the Montforts.”

      “I see.” Jett toyed with the pastry flakes on the plate, then rubbed her hand along her thigh. “I guess I can understand the divorce. My parents must have been shattered about my disappearance. They...fought a lot.”

      “I remember you telling me about hearing their arguments. It happens. People change and seek new directions.”

      “But another country? You don’t know where my father went?” she asked.

      He shook his head. And one final terrible detail. “He got remarried, Jett. That’s all I know.”

      She nodded, taking it in. Her fingers clasped tightly on her lap. Everything about her closed. “I wonder if my mother is still in the same house.”

      “Impossible. That area we were in last night is where the lavender field once was. The houses were torn down years ago, Jett. There’s only a thin line of trees left from the original forest. They’re putting up new buildings and a golf course. I’m not sure where your mother went.”

      “Would your parents know? I mean...” She exhaled heavily, and when she met his gaze, Savin expected to see tears, but instead a steely determination glinted in her dark irises. “I have no one now. I need to start anew. But I can’t do that without support. And survival aside, I’d like to find my parents. Because...”

      “Of course. I can ask my maman for you. My dad died ten years ago.”

      “Oh.” She dropped her gaze from his. “Death is—You resemble him, from what I remember.”

      Savin winced at her tone. It had been so...dead. Like she had forced herself to say something kind. Like she didn’t really feel for him. It was a weird thing to notice. But again, he reminded himself, she had

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