I want to say,That’s what I’m afraid of.But I only nod.
After finishing the food and water, we work together to clear away the makeshift barricade we constructed. I volunteer to venture out first, and Devilry doesn’t protest. I’m fairly sure she likes me now, but perhaps she still doesn’t trust me enough to let me watch her back.
When we emerge from the kitchen, the hallway is dead quiet and shadowed, with only a single Fae light-orb bobbing near the ceiling.
Cautiously, I sidle around the broken staircase, heading toward the giant hole in the floor. Everything between it and the front door is rubble, with great slabs of the ceiling slanting down amid cracked beams and crumbled plaster.
The sentient ooze is nowhere in sight. Nor do I see or hear any razor-winged bats.
When I glance back, Devilry is in a half-crouch, prowling along like a wary black cat. She shoots me a rebuking glare and motions for me to watch my front.
I peer down into the gloom below. Light glows from the subterranean hallways, faint but reassuring. At least we won’t be in total darkness.
After seating myself on the broken edge of the floorboards, I flip around, lower my body into the opening, and drop down into the subterranean level.
My boots slam onto stone pavers. I whip my dagger out, holding it ready while I scan my surroundings.
I’m in a shadowed stone hallway, illuminated at distant intervals by more of those floating orbs of light. Near my feet lies the giant hand cannon Devilry used to blow up half of the first floor. I don’t know enough about its mechanics and appearance to tell if it’s broken. Looks intact to me.
There’s nothing else to be seen in either direction except a few closed doors. The air is cool, stirring as if there’s a current or a breeze somewhere.
Devilry lands lightly beside me, her boots barely making a sound. She’s better at stealth than I am, but I’m not about to tell her that.
The moment she spots the cannon, she makes a little coo of excitement, like she’s seeing an old friend.
When she picks it up, I clear my throat loudly, and she shoots me a rebellious look. “What?”
“I have qualms about you using that thing again,” I say.
“Qualms?”
“Yes. Some fairly serious qualms.”
“I thought you liked explosions.”
“I do, but if that thing knocks out the wrong walls, it could bring the entire fortress down on top of us. If we’re not squished like bugs, we’ll be buried in a shit-ton of rubble.”
“But this thing could destroy that beast,” she counters. “We should bring it along just in case.”
“Then I’ll carry it.” I reach for the weapon, and she fuckinghissesat me. I back off, palms out in a deprecating gesture. “Just trying to help. You can barely lift it.”
She hoists the cannon defiantly. “Men always think they deserve the biggest weapons.”
“I don’t like to carry huge weapons. They slow me down. I was trying to do you a favor.”
“You’re trying to control when and where it gets fired. You think I’m careless, but I’m not. Everything I do is calculated, Ravager. It’s all part of a plan.”
She starts down the hallway, trying to walk normally despite the bulk of the weapon.
“What about fucking me?” I ask. “Was that calculated? Part of a plan?”
“Yes. I needed relief from the stress of the day. And I’ll admit, I was curious how sex would be, with you. I needed it done, so my head could be clearer.”
She pauses, peering down a side passage, and I come up behind her, bending slightly to murmur in her ear. “And is your head clear, sweetheart?”
“Clear as crystal.” But there’s the faintest little catch in her breath.
“And now that we’ve fucked—”
