have?” I ask.
“It varies,” Myron says. “But if someone is doing what a Vitas can do, then against all odds, I’d say they have to be Vitas. Of course, the odds of that are staggering.” He shrugs. The bookshelf opens and Gabriel returns with two steaming mugs. He sets one down next to Mryon, who nods in thanks, and then sips at the other.
“Why are they so rare?” Cam asks.
Myron taps his fingers against his coffee mug. “Powers that defy death are often feared, and often for good reason. Those who wield such magic rarely show the restraint and respect such magic deserves.”
“They were hunted down and killed,” Gabriel says, less ceremoniously. “Unfortunately, my knowledge of the Vitas is mostly limited to stories and legends that have been passed along since before I was born,” Myron says. “I do have a suggestion. You work for Azmos. You could ask him.”
“Yeah,” I say, standing. If only it were that easy. Azmos tells me some things, but he’s tight-lipped about others. Then again, maybe I just haven’t asked the right questions. “Thanks for your help.”
“Do keep me informed,” Myron says. “And you and I will be in touch.”
I swallow. “Yes. As promised.”
I turn to head for the door. Cam hesitates, his eyes flicking to the ring on my pinky. “Can I ask one last question?” I turn to see Myron gesture ‘go ahead.’ “Do humans… Can they become demons?”
I gape at him and twist my silver ring around my finger.
“Theoretically,” Myron says. “There are rumors that some of the rarer demon races can convert others, but that’s an old magic thought to be lost if it ever existed at all.”
Cam lets out a breath but won’t meet my eyes. “So Azmos couldn’t…pass on his power or make Nicki like him.”
Myron raises both his pink eyebrows. “As far as I know, Vitas do not have that power. Their only power that I’m aware of is to bind the souls to the bodies instead of letting them die. Maybe some light healing magic but accounts vary on that end.”
I shudder. The way he says it sounds horrible, rather than helpful. “I doubt the people he’s bargained with would see it that way,” I say, defensive. Azmos does a lot of good for people with no other choice.
Myron shrugs. “I wouldn’t know.”
We part ways with Gabriel and head back toward downtown to catch a bus back up the hill. Cam is quiet, contemplating what we’ve learned, fingers tapping the strap of his backpack as he holds it over one shoulder.
“I’m not going to become a demon,” I say. It shouldn’t bother me that he asked. It was a smart question. One I hadn’t really thought to consider, because the idea of working for demons is so far removed from becoming one that it didn’t occur to me. I shouldn’t resent that he’s thinking big picture, that he’s examining all of the angles. It’s what he does.
“I know,” Cam says. “But I figured I should ask all the questions I could while I had the expert in front of me.”
“Is that what you’ve been worried about?” I keep my tone teasing, light, but he sighs heavily.
“No,” he says. He glances down at my hand, at the silver ring. There’s a pause. I don’t believe him. “I want to go UW for the reasons I gave you, but…” He glances over at me. “It’s also because of you, a little. I love you. And at this point, I don’t know if we could work long distance, with everything.” I open my mouth to agree, but he barrels forward: “Especially now, knowing that there are other demons out there. Because I’d be constantly worried sick. I’m already worried sick. But if I was too far away to help…”
“Cam,” I say. I step closer to him and thread my arm through his, pulling him close as we walk. He’s solid and warm and his hair smells like his sister Cathy’s watermelon shampoo. “Az mostly has me delivering invoices for garden sculptures. I’m not exactly in mortal danger.”
He gives me a wry