“Typical. Never trust a demon. But he has your soul, and he’s still here. That’s something.”
“Right.” I nodded. “If only we knew why he was really sticking around.”
She pretended not to hear me. I pretended not to see her blush. Then I closed my eyes, letting Ryder’s soft snores lull me down.
~~~
When I woke up next, it was to the scent of hot chocolate being waved beneath my nose.
I moaned, a soft, needful sound and opened my eyes.
“Hey,” I started, then stopped. I had expected Ryder, or maybe Jean. Not Bathin.
“Morning, little trooper. How about some contraband cocoa?”
I looked around the room. Myra was gone, but Ryder was still there. He was sort of crunched up on his other side now, his arm over his eyes, one hand on his gun which rested in the holster on his hip.
From the sleek blue light and dark shadows filling the room, I could only assume it was the middle of the night, that in-between hour when it felt like time wasn’t ever going to mean something again.
“He’s out cold. Been up for a couple days, sitting with you, covering the police work, dealing with the exit of deities.”
“Myra?”
He waved the mug of cocoa at me again. “What about her?”
“Where is she?”
“Why would I know?”
I just gave him a look. “Where is she?”
“At Jean’s house. They’re staying together again tonight. Oh, they say it’s because Jean might need help in the middle of the night with her injuries, but we know why they’re really clinging to each other like frightened children. Life is such a fragile thing, something you’ve reminded them of quite a lot lately.”
“Don’t be an ass.” I moved the bed so I was sitting up a little more. “And pass the damn cocoa.”
He handed me the paper cup, which had no lid but an obscene mountain of whipped cream on top. Just how I liked it, really.
“She’s right. You’re much more fun when you get all moody.”
I sipped cocoa—well, took a couple bites of whipped cream and ignored the bait. I knew Myra wouldn’t have offered my continued pain as a source of amusement to talk Bathin into giving me back my emotions. I knew my sister. She had threatened him, and I was pretty sure it was with more than just snapping a piece of chalk.
“Did you make her promise you anything? Did you trade her something for my emotions?”
“A gentleman never tells.”
I tipped the cup, got down to the cocoa. It was rich, warm, and delicious. Actually, it tasted just like the cocoa from the Perky Perch.
“Good thing I’m not asking a gentleman then. Tell me, Bathin. I get that you don’t like us, I get that you want to wind us up and watch us wobble around. What did you take from my sister in exchange for my emotions?”
He studied me for a moment, that uncommonly handsome man who was neither of those things. Finally: “Nothing. She asked, I returned them.”
“Just like that.”
“Do you believe me?”
“No. But I believe her. She said the same thing.”
“Well then. Maybe I’ve turned over a new leaf. Changed my ways. Reformed for the good of Ordinary, for the good of all.”
