Nothing happens.
"Damn," I sigh.
"You're doing a shitty job convincing me that you don't secretly want to kill me," he informs me.
"Again, you're useful to me, and I like you, so why the hells would I wanna kill you? Paranoid, much?"
The thrall makes a face. "Maybe I am. Force of habit, I guess. Come on."
He steps through the spell, and I'm right beside him. Vaguely, I feel a wash of magic buzz across my skin. I know little enough about magic outside of demonology that I don't pay it any attention.
We walk down a paved road that soon turns into a circular driveway, with a cozy little light yellow two-story house perched at the end of it. I've only got Eisha and Melchom's townhouse and my own tiny, bare apartment in California to compare this to, but it looks nice. Sorta cozy and colorful, even in this gray lighting.
Then again, everything seems colorful to me since I grew up in the sapped dimness of Amadeus's Nether.
The blue car is parked out front, empty now. When we step onto the front porch, Ian gets all soft and smiley when he sees planters full of bright yellow flowers.
"She's always loved sunflowers," he sighs.
Sunflowers. I jot down a mental note before I lift my hand, ready to knock.
Before I can, the door swings open and a heavily muscled, tough-looking son of a bitch glowers down at us, his green gaze slipping quickly to Ian. He steps out and shuts the door behind him.
"Boone. What the hell are you doing here?"
Ian squints at the redhead, who's a bit taller than both of us. "We didn't get a proper introduction in California, but I'm going to take a wild guess and say you're the mercenary I heard was hunting my best friend all across the continent. Nice to officially meet you, Asher fucking Douglas. Thanks for killing off the asshole who turned me into this. Now move."
The caster ignores him, looking at me just as I catch my first whiff of him. My head jerks back.
Infernal hells. I've never smelledmeritquite like this before. It's not nearly as mouthwateringly sweet and addictive as my little candy-cunted shifter's is—he smells good and all, but there's something almost uncomfortably palpable about it. Thick and tangible.
Almost like…
My attention is drawn to a faint glow from his back despite the coat he has on over combat gear, and my brows go up.
"One hell of a strong blessing you've got there. Reeks of magic holier than a mere priest's or saint's, though."
Must be favored by a god or something.
Asher Douglas's eyes narrow. "A demon. Spectacular. I was really hoping to cross paths with a filthy motherfucking shithead like you today."
"Half-demon," I correct, fighting a surprised smile. "And cool it, Copper Top. I'm not interested."
He looks briefly confused before glowering at Ian again. "I figured there would be a bounty the size of Antarctica on your head by now. Kudos to your survival skills for getting you this far, but it's time for you both to get lost."
"Not until I see Heidi," Ian insists.
The redhead's face turns menacing. "Yeah, that's not fucking happening."
"Isn't it?" The thrall's gaze intensifies as he holds the mercenary's stare. I can feel the tingle of his powerful hypnosis from where I stand beside him. "Move."
"Nice try," Douglas snorts, unimpressed.
Ian blinks, brow furrowing. "How…"
"He's got some kind of fragrant gods-blessing on his soul," I offer. "Shit like that can ruin a lot of fun."
"Byfun, a sick fuck like you must mean tormenting the innocent," Asher rolls his eyes.
