“They were totally silent the whole time they were eating, and kept throwing little looks my way.”
“That’s not really creepy.”
“The way they did it was.”
“Is cinnamon a demon marker?” Myra asked Frigg.
“It’s not cinnamon, but it’s a claiming mark—a demon claiming a human mark,” Frigg said. “I don’t know if they sold their souls, or if they made a deal and signed a contract. But there is a demon mark on them.”
“A demon who wanted to what? Clunk me on the head?”
“Kill you,” Myra said, like I’d lost my marbles. “They wanted to kill you.”
“No, if they’d wanted to kill me, they would have sent humans who knew how to kidnap someone, or shoot someone, or frickin’ fight, without getting caught.”
“They attacked you,” she said.
“They didn’t even have weapons. Or training.”
“Maybe they thought you would be easy,” Frigg said.
“Hello, I’m the chief of police.”
“Sure.” She shrugged. “Some demons are well-versed in humankind. But some don’t pay attention to human details. Just like some gods don’t pay attention to human details. It’s a form of arrogance grown from power.
“The demon king or a demon in a high enough position of power might not think a human would be difficult to kill. Especially if the odds were four to one.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” I said. “We should be able to get information out of them. Who they made a deal with, why, exactly, they were hired. Find out which demon is behind this.”
“Unless their memories have been tampered with,” she said.
Jean and the beasts strolled back into the room. Spud ran off to his pile of toys by the fireplace and brought me his favorite shark.
I let him put it on my lap, then he rested his big fuzzy head on my knee. I rubbed behind his ears.
Dragon-pig jumped on the couch and pushed its way between me and Myra. It placed one hoof on my thigh and grunted.
I looked down at it. “I’m okay. I’m fine. Really.”
Dragon-pig smooshed its way onto my lap behind the shark, resting its head on top of the toy. It grumbled, but settled, like a warm little rock.
“So we’re dealing with people who made deals with demons.” Myra pulled out her phone. “I’ll call Bathin. He can come look at them. Maybe he’ll recognize the mark.”
“Is that what the king wants?” Jean asked, sitting on the couch arm beside me. “Will he expect us to take the attackers to the station, then expect us to send the next in line to the throne to go look at them? Could it be a trap?”
“You think the humans aren’t really a trap for me,” I said, “but for Bathin?”
“He’s the one who can kill the king, right? A first born...”
“...spawned,” Myra corrected.
“...first spawned. If I were the king, he would be my target not you, Delaney.”
“Although taking you out,” Frigg said, “could also work, if his final goal is taking over Ordinary.”
“So we don’t send Bathin, or any of the other demons, to the station,” I said.
“Maybe not,” Myra said.
