“Yes,” Ryder said, “she can.”
Bathin flashed a sharp grin. “Definitely traded up.”
The door opened. “Ryder, you’re next.” Rossi didn’t spare Bathin so much as a second of his time, ignoring him like he was nothing more than a dead gnat.
Bathin’s grin stiffened. More teeth, less smile.
Ryder squeezed my hand and didn’t let go. He wasn’t going to leave me out here on the porch alone with the demon.
“I’ll be right in,” I said.
He paused, and then he and Rossi exchanged a look.
Rossi stepped out on the porch and Ryder stepped in.
It was starting to feel like I was under constant surveillance. Like they didn’t trust me alone with the demon or something.
Of course last time I’d been alone with the demon, I’d lost my soul. I did not regret that choice. We had Ben back. And if he could survive this, if he could recover, it would be worth it.
“How’s Ben?” I asked.
Rossi’s glittery ice eyes did not soften or waver. “Critical.”
“Can we do more for him? Is there something or someone who could heal him?”
“No.”
Bathin grunted, and it sounded like a muffled laugh. “You are brutal.”
“What?” I said, but they were caught in a staring contest and I’d been on the sidelines of enough of those to know where that was going to end up.
“Nothing,” Rossi said, his nostrils flared like something close to him needed to be bitten, decapitated, killed.
“Afraid?” Bathin taunted.
“Where is your king, Bathin?” Rossi’s voice was cold and flat, like a slab of marble shoveled down into frozen soil. “Shall I guess? Shall I guess why you seek Ordinary’s refuge?”
For the first time, I saw something like fear cross Bathin’s face.
It scared the crap out of me. For a second. Then I was left with no fear. A shiver of cold slipped over my skin. I wrapped my arms around myself.
“That is not your concern,” Bathin growled.
“Just as those under my protection are none of yours,” Rossi replied.
“Her soul is no concern to you.”
“Test me.”
The air, cold with the wind coming down from the north, even though it was summer, suddenly heated up here on this porch like someone had lit a bonfire.
“No,” I said. “Enough. You’re done, both of you. This isn’t about my soul. This is about keeping Myra out of your grubby mitts, and you telling us where you found Ben and if you know where Lavius is holed up.”
“Is that what this is about?”
I hated that smug tone.
“Damn right it is.” I knew I was angry, but since I couldn’t feel it, my words weren’t delivered with the strength I usually mustered.
