“Your husband only paid us half.” Kori clicked her tongue from her darkened corner. “Someone owes us.”
There was a prickling in Amma’s chest that made her want to lunge even surrounded by enemies, their flippancy enraging.
“They’re not married,” corrected Pippa, clasping her hands together. “And maybe she wasn’t really as enthralled as I said she was…”
“She still stole and lost Pierce,” murmured Kori.
The knight shrugged. “Well, no hard feelings, right?”
“Yes, hard feelings,” Amma spat, turning on him and striding up to the table as Quaz wrapped himself around the back of her neck. When he rolled his eyes again, she struck out, knocking the apple from his hand. “Not least of all for calling me a stupid bitch.”
Barrett looked after where the fruit splattered against the wall, mouth agog, then glared back at her. “Well, you were being a—”
“Don’t you dare!” She slammed her hands on the table and bore down on him. “To speak of foolishness: all of you blindly followed the orders of a man who was forcing me into marriage and his bed.”
“Oh, come off it.” Barrett got to his feet, the chair clattering behind him as he towered over her. “He was a marquis. You were probably begging for it.”
Even with the table between them, he could have flattened her with a single palm, but Amma didn’t care. She brandished her dagger and had it under his chin in an instant. “I should slit your throat like the pig you are.”
In a pall of sudden darkness, Kori appeared beside Amma, and metal pressed into her flesh. The bite of her dagger made Amma freeze, but she didn’t pull away, and she didn’t stopstaring hatred into Barrett’s stupid, fucking face.
“Now, now, children,” Xander’s voice called into the room, “do behave.”
Amma refused to stand down. The metal came away from her neck, but she didn’t flinch. Barrett’s jaw worked, and then he finally stepped back, arms crossed with a pout like he wanted nothing more than to rip her limbs off.
“Darkness, who knew retaining non-imps would be so exhausting? Kitten, would you mind taking a little break from pointlessly threatening the help to come and have a more civilized conversation in the parlor?”
Amma stuffed her dagger into its holster, turning away from Barrett. She gave Kori a knowing look, eyes flicking to the dagger she carried, Amma’s silver one from Faebarrow meant for tending to the liathau. Pippa was pressed against the counters looking horrified, and at the back of the room, Xander curled a finger then swept away.
Amma strode after him down a wide hall lit with arcane sconces and covered in gaudy wallpaper. Portraits stared down at her from ornate frames, but she recognized none of the subjects, they didn’t resemble any of the Righteous Sentries, nor had any of Xander’s white hair or tanned skin.
Crossing through a formal dining room with seating for twelve, Amma maneuvered around the long table, over the brocade carpets, and past heavy draperies into a foyer with a winding staircase and massive entry doors. The place was opulent, but Amma had been to Xander’s tower, and this was not it. “Wherearewe?”
Xander flicked his wrist, and a shadow imp curled itself around the handles to a set of double doors on the foyer’s other end. “I believe the owners are called the Dewgrains or the Frostwheats or some such. We can ask them later for clarification if need be.” He bade her entry with a slight bow atthe doors.
Amma wished there were another option, but could only walk past him and into the lavish parlor. A fire was already burning there, crimson seating set around it, and she hesitated, her own clothes covered in dust from the catacombs. “The people who live here are letting you stay?”
“They’ve not got much of a choice, locked up in the basement.”
Amma whipped around. “You’re keeping them prisoner?”
With another gesture, the shadow imps closed the door behind Xander. “I know, Iknow, but the pious one convinced me not to kill them, so they’re alive. For now.”
Amma opened her mouth to tell him how awful he was, but the strength ran all out of her, concerned only with one thing. “Just tell me where you’re keeping Damien.”
“Me?” Xander poked his own chest with a pout. He’d changed out of the white jacket he’d been wearing in the catacombs, and was now clad in a silvery robe, one that fit him much better than when they’d first met, though she doubted this one belonged to him either. The set of blood-filled vials still hung from his neck, and she imagined that was the only thing he never took off. He wouldn’t be powerless without them, but much less of a threat.
“Yes, you. And that Delphine woman. What are you two doing with him?” Quaz trilled angrily from her shoulder.
“No, no, kitten, you’ve got it all wrong. Well, mostly wrong. I do know where Bloodthorne is, but I’m not keeping him there.”
“Oh, so it’s a coincidence you and she showed up at the exact same time?”
“Not a coincidence, no—this was all very much arranged in a sort of clandestine, calculated…kerfuffle.”
Amma snorted, pulling out her dagger again and stomping up to him, Quaz’s little claws digging into her shoulder to holdon. “Quit speaking in circles, and just tell me why I’m here and Damien’s not.”
Xander actually held up his hands, taking a step back. Amma brandished the knife, arm steady, heartbeat in her ears. It was her third threat with it, but she would be happy to make it her first slice.
