"What, no comment?" Cal asked. The pub was quiet because of last night's fight. The locals who usually congregated around the bar had been banned, apart from Finn, but he sat glumly at the other end of the pub because he was all alone, tucked away at a square dark wood table, facing a large painting of a bull.

Tom still made sure that their conversation was private. "I said shut up," he hissed.

Cal laughed into his glass. "Anyway, you've got a cracking bruise across your nose. I heard there was a big fight last night. Are you okay?"

Tom sighed and propped his elbow up onto a beer mat. "I woke up feeling like my head had been hit by a train."

Cal unzipped his coat, nodding. "Poor you." He had one of those voices that sounded sarcastic unless he really meant it. He had one of those faces that looked unamused unless he was smiling.

Tom puffed out a breath and tried not to drop his head on the dark marble top of the wooden bar, wondering how he would get through another four hours of staring at their horrible red flowery carpet, mismatched tables and chairs, or the white walls with lots of photos and artworks of bulls. He doubted that the pub would get much busier with half of their regulars barred. He knew his parents wanted to be strict and ban them for months, but they also needed the money. Most of the locals would trickle back in soon enough. Too soon for Tom's liking.

"So, who started the fight last night?"

Tom explained it how his father had explained it. "One demon entered by himself, two more entered an hour later. Because the locals were ruffled by the first one, they just all started yelling abuse at the other two, then suddenly it was a fight. My dad said the demons were violent first, but I don't doubt that they were provoked enough to get that angry."

"Everyone knows demons have anger issues; they're just hardwired that way. The last thing I would do is provoke one. Must be so shit to lose control of your emotions like that." Cal was a compassionate thinker. He often grieved for the demons who lost their souls to rowdy humans. It used to keep him up at night. "You know what Tom, I just don't get it. I come in here to drink beer and fill your head with crap and have a fun time. Why on earth would you come here and think . . . yeah, I'm gonna punch a demon today. Idiots, the lot of them."

"I second that," Declan said, passing through with a large, laminated sign saying, 'Drinks in plastic cups for anyone who is a threat to a demon'.

Cal proudly tapped his glass with a coin, letting it ring loudly. "It'll be like the drink of shame."

"Good. Let them be embarrassed." Tom glanced over to Ezra who was hunched over the book. He was halfway through already. If he continued reading at such a pace, Tom would have to visit the library again tomorrow.

"What is he reading about?" Cal asked.

"Just stuff," Tom said, shrugging. He had promised Ezra to keep it all to himself. He would usually tell Cal everything, but not this.

"That's so incredibly vague-"

"It shouldn't be any of your business. It's only my business because he's wrongfully banned from the library."

"Is it something inappropriate?"

"No, Cal."

He held up his hands. "Keep your secrets." He gulped down the rest of the pint, and Tom knew he would either be carried home, or found at the crack of dawn, curled up under one of their round tables outside. "Is it a hot romance novel?"

"No."

"Then why can't you tell me?"

"He's allowed privacy. Why are you being so nosey?"

"Because you know something I don't."

Tom chuckled. "You're such a jealous best friend."

"I am." Cal got another drink and sipped this one a little slower. "You know, that demon actually suits his barbed wire tattoo." He eyed Tom who was purposefully not staring at Ezra. "So . . . you think he's hot, right?"

Tom had told Cal that he was bisexual years ago. Cal's first question was whether he fancied him or not. Tom didn't, and Cal took great offence for weeks until Tom asked if he found every girl attractive. Cal then understood, and never brought it up again. "If I say yes, will you shut up about it?"

Cal raised a brow. "So, you do?"

"Obviously. Look at him." Tom would admit that it was nice to meet a guy who was taller than him, because he was usually the one to tower over others. He loved his deep voice, which was always softly spoken, and his eyes, so big and dark and very expressive. But Cal didn't need to know the details. Tom would rather punch himself in the face.

Cal rubbed his hands together, as if his scheming needed to be powered up. "If he's still here after your shift, you should have a drink with him."

Tom had almost forgotten about last night's conversation. He scratched the back of his neck. "Don't make a big thing of this Cal, but I've already asked him."

"What!" Cal lowered himself back onto the stool when some locals looked up from their newspapers, or down from the TV showing the horse racing. "Seriously? When?" he whispered.

"It's completely innocent. I want us to be friends."

"Friends."

"Cal, please stop it. You're starting to piss me off."

"Okay, okay." He took another sip of his drink and moved his attention to his phone.

Tom was glad that the topic burnt out. He glanced in Ezra's direction, but instead of hunching over the book, Ezra was now sat up with fingers linked over the pages, staring right at him.

His heart plummeted through his stomach. Had he heard their conversation? Surely not. Ezra sat all the way at the far end of the pub. Though the pub wasn't exactly big, and demons were rumoured to have incredible hearing, so they could eaves drop and tempt you with your desires.

Tom gulped and looked away, feeling the heat on his cheeks. Luckily, Cal was distracted with his phone and couldn't embarrass him further. He busied himself by wiping down the bar, and when he looked back to the demon, he was manoeuvring away from the table with an empty glass and walking towards him.

His cheeks were just as red as Tom's, but he held their gaze and asked for another pint of Strongbow. Cal looked up as Tom poured his drink and asked, "How many pints do you have to drink to get drunk?" Ezra looked down at him, surprised to have been spoken to. When he didn't respond, Cal added, "If I drank twelve pints tonight, which I will, there's a good chance I'll wake up in a pool of my own vomit. How many would you have to drink to be in the same state? Because I know demons have a higher tolerance."

Ezra's face blanked, and he said bluntly, "More than twelve."

Cal hummed with thought as Ezra returned to the corner of the pub, then asked, "Why did he get a free drink?"

"Oh, because he saved my life yesterday."

Cal scoffed at the theatrics. "Was he involved with the fight?"

"No, I mean he literally saved my life. Your dad almost ran me over. But Ez-" Tom stopped himself. "The demon pushed me out of the way."

Cal was silent for a moment. His eyes narrowed. "You know the demon's name?"

"No."

"Then who is Ez?"

Tom didn't dare to look in Ezra's direction. "His nickname. Do you really think a demon would share their real name with a human they barely know?" He grabbed Cal's pint and took a large gulp. "Anyway, thanks for not caring about the part where your dad almost ran me over."

"Oh gosh yeah, he's an idiot on the road. I've told him so many times that-" as Cal ranted about his dads reckless driving, Tom started to rub the ring finger on his left hand. He quickly looked in Ezra's direction. To Tom's relief, he was staring down at his book again, though the pages were turning slower than before.

As the day rolled on, Tom was anxious to finish his shift. By now, Cal was drunk and talking to Gren, his gullible neighbour who had joined them for a drink. His girlfriend Harper had also joined, but she was talking with some of the other women who worked at the small gym on the outskirts of their little village.

Ezra was still in the corner of the pub, reading. He was on his fifth pint, as was Cal. Ezra was perfectly sober, and Cal had started singing loudly to every song on Tom's playlist. They had karaoke set up for the evening, and Cal was warming up.

What if Ezra leaves before my shift ends? Maybe he's forgotten that I've asked to have a drink with him anyway? Why am I so nervous about this? As he had told Cal, he wanted nothing more than a friendship with Ezra. How could it be anything more? Demons aged so much slower, and if Ezra was twenty-one in human years, he was one hundred and five in demon years. Risks came with getting to know a demon, risks people would judge him for.

But looking over at Ezra, sitting peacefully with a book, spurred Tom on to be his friend. He didn't care about the judgement, though he did care about his safety. Ezra had shown no signs of losing his temper, at least, not yet.

Still, Tom had to be careful.

Six in the evening finally came, and Tom swapped his shift with his parents. He got a bottle of Desperado, because he had some catching up to do with Cal, who was now on his sixth pint. He poured a pint of Strongbow for Ezra and announced to his mum that he was going to sit with the soul stripper. She wasn't surprised, but gave him a wary nod as he strolled confidently to the corner of the pub.

The locals would surely gossip, and Tom would proudly ignore them, for Ezra's sake.