In the Demon's Company (Demon's Assistant Book 2) by Tori Centanni

He and I…” He trails off and then his shoulders droop. “We both think we know what’s best, you know? Which tends to be the opposite of what the other one thinks.”
    I do know, because that sounds uncomfortably familiar.
    He pulls the cord at Dravus and we hike up a hill and turn down a street until we find a white house with brown trim. The lawn is a little overgrown, the paint in need of a new coat, but otherwise it’s a nice house. Two stories, big picture window opening into the living room.
    I knock on the front door. I hear footsteps approach and hold my breath, not sure what I’m hoping for. A finger hooks through the blinds and eyes peer out at us. The blinds pop back into place.
    Through the door, I can hear muffled voices but can’t make out what they’re saying.
    When the door finally opens, the woman who stands in front of me is young, mid-twenties, her black hair in a messy bun. She looks us up and down and then glances back inside. I see a few drops of blood on her sweatshirt.
    “Let them in,” a voice says. It’s lilting and beautiful and it sends chills up my spine.
    The young woman opens the door wide. Her jaw is bruised. She looks like she ran into someone’s fist. Unease sloshes around in my stomach. Gabriel and I exchange a glance. He reaches into his coat for the hilt of his sword, unclipping a leather clasp that holds it in place, I guess so he can pull it out quickly if the need arises.
    “You have a sword?” I hiss, surprised. It’s not really subtle, but then, there is nothing subtle about this sword.
    “Of course,” he says, like it’s a totally normal thing to have. I have never seen Azmos or Xanan with a weapon. Maybe their magic suffices.
    The house is small, furniture jammed into every corner of the living room. The blue-haired demon sits on the gray sofa like it’s a throne, her legs crossed. She wears black leather pants and a silver brocade corset. She smiles.
    “Well, hello,” she says, clearly pleased we’re here. Something tells me that’s not a good sign. “Anna, do make us some tea.”
    The woman in the blood-stained sweatshirt nods and goes into the next room.
    “I know you,” she says to Gabriel. Her skin is tan like Azmos’ and her straight, electric blue hair falls around her face and down past her shoulders. Her eyes are blue-and-silver snake eyes. “The psychic. Is that why you came? Did you foresee that young woman’s near-death?”
    Gabriel is still beside me. She doesn’t wait for him to answer. Her eyes land on me and her smile widens. My stomach turns. “And who might you be?”
    She’s like Azmos, I tell myself, snake eyes and all. And Azmos is not a monster. I take a few breaths and then say, “I work for a demon like you. I wanted to talk.”
    “A demon like me?” she says, tilting her head slightly. The movement is robotic and it makes my skin crawl.
    “Yes,” I say, trying to sound cool and collected.
    “There are so few demons like me,” she says, almost wistfully.
    Gabriel reaches for his sword. I frown. The demon hasn’t moved so I don’t understand why he does it. And then a steel blade is at my throat, cutting into my skin. Anna is behind me, her hand white-knuckling a sharp kitchen knife. The demon woman’s smile brightens. Tea must have been code for “knife.”
    “Drop the sword, or the girl dies,” the demon woman says in a tone far too cheerful for a death threat. “Don’t worry, dear,” she says to me. “I have a few questions for you. If you cooperate, I won’t let you die today.”
    Anna’s hand shakes and the knife slices into my neck, a tiny cut like one a guy would make while shaving, but it stings. My heart pounds, making the tiny cut throb. Gabriel drops his sword to the carpet. Anna’s death grip on the knife loosens slightly.
    “Sorry,” Anna whispers so quietly that it’s the ghost of a word at my ear.
    “This demon you work for. What are they called?” the demon woman asks.
    “Azmos,” I