“Why?”
“The kiss?” He threw a look down to the parking lot where Ryder was busy pouring on the small town charm for the mom and kids.
Delaney gave Bathin that stare that worked in the courtroom. “If you’re kissing anyone here, it’s me, not Myra.”
He narrowed his eyes, and I had a fleeting moment of panic. When he’d first taken her soul, he’d robbed her of all emotion. I’d made it clear—hard and fast—that I would destroy him if he didn’t reverse that part of the contract. That was when he’d only been in the town a couple of days, but even then, he’d listened to me.
I still didn’t know why.
Delaney could feel, could laugh, could love. But sometimes, when she didn’t think I was watching, I saw her stare off in the middle distance and go blank and still.
Long-term soul possession could do terrible things to a mortal. We Reed sisters were god-chosen to protect Ordinary, so that gave us certain strengths, certain advantages regular mortals did not possess.
Delaney was tough. But all the books I’d read pointed to the same thing. Go too long past a year of soul possession, and it permanently changed a person.
Those changes were never for the better.
Which meant I had a lot to do in a very little time to save her soul before permanent damage changed her.
Bathin heaved a sigh. “Fine. I’ll kiss you, right here in front of your boyfriend, the unicorn, and your sister. Is that how you like it, Delaney? A little share-and-share-alike? I’m into that, if you swing that way. Is tongue on the table?”
I punched him in the arm because I was closest. “You’ll kiss me.”
“Ooooo,” the unicorn said out of the side of her mouth. “Jealousy?”
“Myra,” Delaney said.
“Nope. He’s not coming anywhere near you with his lips or his tongue. It’s off the table, by the way,” I said to him.
Then I turned back to Delaney. “He already has your soul. I don’t think a kiss is going to make it any easier to get it back. Demon kisses leave marks.”
“And kissing you won’t leave a mark?”
I was going to argue, but one of the oozes plopped out of the hole and chortled in victory, all its tentacles waving around like an over-caffeinated Kermit the Frog.
Then it wobbled to a halt. Yellow eyes surveyed the scene, the park, us standing there arguing. Delaney clutched the turnip and candy ring and glared at me, Bathin somehow lounged while standing, looking like he had all the time in the world to do all the nothing that crossed his mind.
The demon spawn stretched and spread, becoming more solid and less lava-blobby.
For a second, I thought it was going to take on a human shape, but no.
It became a merry-go-round, one of those flat disk, playground kinds with metal pipe humps welded into the base so it could be pushed.
It was pretty convincing too, except for the yellow eyes that peered hungrily from the center of the disk.
“Fine,” Delaney said, considering our new problem. “I don’t want anything else coming out of that hole, and I don’t know how we’re gonna shove that thing back in. Myra gets the kiss. I’ll use the turnip and,” she handed me the ring, “you use that. Now, let’s get at it.”
The three of us strode over to the vortex leaving the unicorn behind.
“Don’t think this means anything,” I said to Bathin as we approached the vortex.
The other two blobs were having a harder time getting out of the hole filled with light. There was background noise behind their chattering, something that sounded like a distant choir singing a beautiful lofting song. The smell of apple pie was back.
“What’s the song?” Delaney asked.
“The Underworld,” Bathin replied.
“Hell?”
