The loud sound of someone banging on the door pulled Slappy from his sleep. He blinked as he jolted awake, scanning his surroundings quickly, taking in the tacky wallpaper, his sleeping mate curled up clutching his hand, and pulled away from her reluctantly.
He moved slower than usual, his body still recuperating, and peered into the peephole, spotting the familiar dark-haired heads of Mr. and Mrs. Kramer, Sara, and the redheaded Jeb crowded in front the door. Swallowing his growl of annoyance and anger at them for waking Amy, he pulled open the door and said calmly, "Yes?"
"Where is she?" Mrs. Kramer demanded, her livid gaze meeting him; he'd never seen her look so disheveled—her hair pulled in a messy ponytail, face tear-streaked and splotchy, eyes puffy and red.
Mr. Kramer looked more put-together, not quite as disheveled; no, he looked pissed, and before Slappy could say anything else, the man's fist made resounding crack as he punched Slappy.
Slappy calmly shook off the punch and raised an eyebrow, running his tongue along his teeth to taste the blood that had collected across the surface. "Was that the best you got?" he asked with a hard laugh, watching in amusement as Mr. Kramer's face turned red with rage.
"I'll kill you!" he growled, already starting to advance to attempt to follow through on his threat.
Slappy's snorted, cracking his knuckles. "Not the first time I've heard that, if I'll be honest, and every time someone says that, I can't help but compare them to the last guy." He smiled as Amy padded over, her scent going from soft and warm and sweet to sour and ice-cold in an instant as she realized who was at the door. She stiffened, her body rigid as she reached for him, almost instinctively, and he couldn't deny her; he laced their fingers together.
Maybe it was because she'd blindly sought him out for support as her mate; maybe he didn't mind holding her hand.
"What're you doing here?" Her voice was low and quiet as she spoke, a mask of indifference her expression even as her hand clutched his so tightly he was starting to lose circulation in his fingers. He could feel her frantic heartbeat through her fingertips.
"Someone called us because they recognized you," Mrs. Kramer said around a sniffle.
Slappy noticed Sara then, how her eyes never left where their hands were laced together at his hip. Noticing this, he shifted them so he was slightly in front of Amy, not enough to block her, but their shoulders overlapped slightly. His anxiety eased slightly, knowing his mate was even the tiniest bit hidden behind him, and her sister was no longer staring at their interlocked hands.
"Amy, please, explain what's going on," Mrs. Kramer begged.
"First of all, no one attacks him. What he did when I was twelve is in the past so leave it there. And second, can you give us a minute to eat and get dressed?"
Dressed in a well-worn t-shirt and jeans and having eaten a dry bagel, Slappy planted himself at Amy's side, surreptitiously watching her interact with her family from beneath his lashes.
In the two months he'd been with the Kramers, their interactions had been full of nothing but hate and resentment and hurt; it was a large, almost dizzying, turnabout to see how they treated her now, trepidation mixed with fear and an undercurrent of anger.
Sara spoke first, her tone belligerent as her distrustful eyes narrowed at Amy. "What the hell happened? The night the ambulance came and you left in the middle of the night like the shitty sister you are."
Amy took the question in stride, not making a comment about her being called a shitty sister. The quick squeeze of his hand was the only indication that the comment had rankled her.
"When you found me upstairs, I'd been attacked by a succubus named Ray Thurston. He used my dreams to hurt me, to try to hurt Slappy, only it didn't quite work the way he wanted it to. Or maybe he wasn't thinking. I don't know. Anyway, when Slappy saved me, it created a bond between us and it's permanent. It's kind of like a marriage in a way, I guess. There won't be anyone else for either of us," Amy explained calmly, one hand clasped around the mug of coffee she was still drinking from breakfast, the other resting on his thigh, not in a sexual manner but more like he was keeping her grounded.
"Marriage? Amy, you're too young! Think of your life, your career! You two didn't even date!" Mrs. Kramer shrieked before she turned her sights to Slappy. "You did this on purpose, didn't you? I bet you wanted to take advantage of my sweet baby; you wanted to chain her to you!"
Slappy snorted, unable to help himself. Yeah, because every demon wanted to bind themselves to a girl who hated his guts, a mortal girl at that.
"Enough, Mother," Amy growled, and he watched in fascination as her eyes flashed an eerie, glowing blue. Now that was new.
Mrs. Kramer's face went pale and she immediately shut up, her mouth thinning as she leaned back in her seat, the expression on her face one of hurt and shock like she couldn't fathom why Amy was upset.
His mate continued to speak, her voice even, tone low, a far cry from that vicious little spitfire who had screamed in his face and punched him when she found him just days earlier. "What he did wasn't intentional; his only intent was to save my life. If it hadn't been for him, I would've bled out right then and there, with or without the paramedics. As I was saying, when he saved me, he must've transferred some of his energy or blood into me because I'm not—I'm not quite human anymore. I'm a little bit of him too."
"You're a monster, too?" Mr. Kramer croaked, his voice hoarse, eyes never leaving his daughter's face as she nodded and his expression changed, going from disbelief to disgust and horror.
She squeezed Slappy's hand tight enough his bones hurt as her scent shifted, reeking of sadness and anxiety, of self-loathing.
He ran his thumb across her knuckles, wishing he knew how to calm her but unable to him, and his mate brain screamed about how he was an awful mate for Amy, why couldn't he just make her happy, how he was inexperienced and inadequate, how she should be content and happy with him and here he was making her miserable just by being in the same room.
How he was overwhelmed with the urge to leave the room, hide away from his growing shame and immerse himself in something self-destructive until his self-loathing eased and screaming brain went silent.
"Does this mean you'll be my brother?" Jed asked suddenly, grinning at Slappy as he snagged another piece of cold bacon off Amy's plate, which had been abandoned not long after they sat down.
He examined Jed's boyish smile, his ruddy cheeks and crinkled eyes, and nodded reluctantly, avoiding looking over at Amy. "In a manner of speaking. If that's how you want to see me."
"So where's this Ray guy?" Mr. Kramer asked, skeptical.
"I don't know. Once he found who he was searching for, they left." Amy shifted slightly, her shoulder bumping Slappy's as she sat back.
"And who was he looking for?" Sara demanded, her expression twisted.
"The only human who'd ever escaped him, who left willingly with him," Slappy said, giving Amy's hand a squeeze and taking control of the conversation to let her rest; the smell of stress and anger was mounting by the second and he would do whatever he could to bring it down, to ease her burden.
"So what happens now? Are you anticipating more fights?"
Slappy shook his head. "I'm not anticipating it but I'm also not ignoring the fact it could happen again. My brother often comes for me and we fight, but we've made a truce, if not for the safety of my mate."
Heat rose to his face as he realized what he'd called her but the way she squeezed his hand tighter and the new scent blooming in the air told him she didn't hate being referred to as his mate.
Sara honed in on it. "Mate? Is that what you're calling her? That's so weird and freaky! It's like you're an animal or something!" She didn't look at him but Amy as she said those words.
Amy's hand tightened around his, nearly crushing his fingers.
"This is insanity," Sara continued all too eagerly, "and I can't believe any of you guys are actually listening to it!"
"Sara, that's enough," Mrs. Kramer snapped. "I almost lost your sister! How—"
The girl ignored her mother and continued. "I bet he's some sort of monster! What kind of person does the things he's done and expects to be welcomed with open arms? You're a horrible, disgusting freak of nature!" Her voice ended in a shrill pitch that left his ears ringing as Amy let go of his hand and stood so suddenly the chair tipped over.
Like lightening, branches of power danced across her body and licked at the walls, crackling as it grew in volume and intensity. Her body jerked and trembled as she braced herself, her voice coming low and soft, dangerous.
"How dare you?" she asked as her hair stood on end, moving in an invisible breeze he could only detect. Her eyes, once green, were a terrifying shade of blue, glowing, and pupils turned to cat slits. When she opened her mouth again, her teeth were long and sharp.
He grabbed her arm and she turned to face him, her expression livid and haunting, her eyes wild with rage. "Sh, mate, it's okay. It's okay." He could feel the purr start up in his throat, vibrating through his chest to calm her, and she relaxed in his hold, the crackles and smell of ozone diminishing the more she calmed.
It was like a switch flipped and she was her normal self once again, albeit sleepier and more rumpled than before.
"I think we should get going," Jeb suggested in a weak, thin voice that betrayed his fear.
Mr. and Mrs. Kramer shared a look and Mrs. Kramer grabbed Sara by the arm, marching her out at a brisk, nervous pace.
Jed hesitated. "I'm sorry. Is she gonna be okay?"
Slappy eyeballed the youngest Kramer before nodding, allowing the boy to hug his sluggish sister before he darted out the door, their eyes meeting once more before he vanished from view.
"I'm sorry," Amy slurred, her hands clutching his shirt and trying to crawl to sit upright, her bleary eyes meeting his.
"Sh," he whispered, running his nose along the line of her jugular, and didn't speak again.