“What?”
“How about you tell him now.” It wasn’t a question. It was a dare. “Tell him to get the hell out of this hospital where one of your friends is injured. Tell him to pound sand.”
I knew how much Ryder wanted me to do this. I wanted to do it too. But I also knew Bathin would be more useful to us if I kept him in my sight.
I didn’t trust him, didn’t like him, and didn’t want to set him loose on our town.
There wasn’t much about this situation I had control of, but I could darn well keep the demon on a leash.
Bathin chuckled. It annoyed me briefly until it didn’t.
That annoyed me too.
“Friends close, enemies closer.” It sounded lame even to me.
I’d never seen Ryder shut down so hard. Every line of his face settled into stone, unmoving, unemotional. Only the fire in his gaze gave away what he thought about that old chestnut.
And what he thought was that he hated I was going with the easy out. He might even think that I had fallen for Bathin’s overpriced charms.
What would the whole-soul Delaney do in this situation? Hug him? Smile? Tell him I was scared, determined, clear-headed?
I wish I knew what whole-soul Delaney would have done, because all I did was nod. “I know you don’t like it. But it’s not going to change right now.”
The pulse of silence beating between us was miserable.
“I don’t agree with you, Delaney. Not at all. Ben’s this way.” Ryder turned and walked away so quickly, I could feel the warmth of the space between us disappear like a draft up a chimney.
I started after him, and Bathin, wisely, followed at a bit of a distance. My emotions were a muddle—anger, fear, hope, sorrow—and they each hit me hard, like silver spikes hammered into my chest. Spikes that were yanked out again so quickly I was left breathless from the pain of impact and removal.
I stopped halfway down a hall and pressed my palm against the wall to catch my breath. To steady my reeling mind and body.
This no-soul thing wasn’t just hard, it was exhausting.
“Now, now,” Bathin murmured from behind me. “We aren’t giving up already are we? Your father assured me you Reeds are stout stock. I had his soul for more than a year. I’ve had yours for less than a day.” He made a clucking noise with his tongue.
“He was dead,” I said, steadying my breathing and pushing away from the wall.
“Yes, well, let’s not have you go there just yet.” He pressed his palm between my shoulder blades and oh, gods, the heat that bloomed there was almost enough to buckle my knees.
Because with that heat came more. So much more.
I felt worry, real and full and centered around Ryder’s still retreating figure. I felt love, thick and heady and so big it stretched my skin and made me moan softly in wonder that I could carry something so totally consuming and still have room for my flesh and bones. Skating on top of those two mammoth surges of real, solid emotions was sorrow. Because I knew this wasn’t going to last. These emotions would be snatched away and I’d be hollowed out again. Empty.
“There,” the devil on my shoulder whispered. “All better now?”
My inhale hitched. I stifled the sob caught in my throat and pressed my lips together before I made any needy sounds.
Before I begged.
“We can be good together, Delaney. For a long, long time.”
The heat of his palm shifted as he stepped even closer to me.
I wanted to burrow into these emotions. Dive in and breathe, drowning on the feelings that had been just outside my reach for so long.
Less than twenty-four hours.
And already the craving for this, for being whole and filled with the decadent textures and flavors and sensations of real emotions was terrible.
