“Yes.”
Truth and truth.
“Badly.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know who can use the scissors to cut her soul from you?”
“Probably. Yes, well, probably. It hasn’t been tested, but I have a good guess.”
There was a vague feeling of wrongness, but it passed as soon as he clarified his own doubt.
“Who?” I asked.
“Do I have to tell you?”
“Yes.”
He looked pained. “All right. I said I’d be honest. You have no idea how difficult this is. It is completely against my nature. If your father hadn’t…no never mind. I’m deflecting. All right. Because of how the scissors were forged, I think the only person who can use them to free a soul from my keeping is another demon.”
No lie.
“Well, we’re screwed,” I said.
He laughed, and it was a deep round sound that came from his gut and lit up his face, softening all the hardest, darkest edges of him into something lighter, brighter. Something good and real.
Wax melts, given enough time with the flame. Light reshapes it.
“We live complicated lives, you and I, Myra. And our courtship and love affair is going to be just as complicated.”
“We’re not in a courtship,” I said. I shouldn’t have. Because I knew it was a lie, and so did he.
“You did that on purpose,” I whispered.
“Yes, I did. Habit. But that isn’t what we need to address right now. We need to come to an understanding that you cannot use the scissors on me without hurting Delaney. Also, full disclosure, my mother bound us together, you and I.”
Time ticked: one Mississippi, two Mississippi…
“She did what?” I almost yelled. “She bound us together?” I pushed against the stone cuffs.
“That’s the other reason you can tell I’m lying.”
“When? When did she bind us?”
“At the second vortex. With the yarn.”
“You knew.”
“Not until it was too late to stop her.”
And that was the truth, dammit.
“Let me go.”
“Not yet. You’ll fight me again, and while I enjoy it…” he paused so I could feel the truth of that, “…we don’t have time.”
“It hurts you, doesn’t it?” I asked. “When I hit you here?”
