The sound of the diner came flooding back, the hiss of meat on the grill, soft chatter, the trill of John Denver singing about country roads taking him home.
I hadn’t realized the world had gone a little foggy, a little distant while we’d been talking, until now.
Gods.
“I’ll get out of your way,” Raven continued. “But if you need anything…”
“With no strings attached,” Abbi added.
“…with no strings attached.” Raven gave her the stink eye. “Where’s the trust? Call on me.” He placed a single glossy black feather on the table.
“Or me.” Bathin placed a small object the size of a walnut next to the feather.
It was a stone, white with spots of black and a slight opalescent shine over pewter shadow.
“Oh.” Abbi reached for it, paused to glance at Bathin, who nodded. “This is a good rock,” she said.
“It is,” he said. “If you need me. That rock is going to be the best way to contact me.”
“Can I keep it?” she asked.
“You can. As long as you promise to use it if you need to.” He held her gaze for a moment.
Whatever that stone was (other than a stone), whatever magic or promise it required, I’d find out from her later.
“In the meantime,” Bathin said, “we’ll do what we can to find the book.”
“What?” I asked, startled.
“You didn’t think we came here just to tell you to do what you were already doing, did you?” he asked.
I blinked. “We don’t need—”
“Of course you don’t,” Raven cut in. “The last thing you need is a couple meddling devils digging for the gold you promised Cupid. We won’t get in your way. You have my word.”
He placed his hand over his heart and gave me what I assumed he thought was an innocent look.
“When we find a lead on it…” Bathin said, rising from the chair.
“If,” Raven added, giving Abbi a little kiss on the top of her head. “Come see me, Bun Bun,” he whispered. “It will be fun.”
“Whenwe find a lead,” the demon insisted, “we will contact you.”
“Through the stone and feather?” I asked. “That sounds like something we don’t need.”
The demon shrugged. “Throw them both away. It didn’t take a feather or stone to find you here.”
“I’m keeping the rock,” Abbi insisted. “I like it.”
“Hey, what about the feather?” Raven asked.
“I’ll give it to Hado. He can eat it.” As if he’d been summoned, the little black cat popped his head out of the backpack she wore and mewled.
Raven chuckled. “Gasp, I say. Don’t eat it, but yes, he can have it.”
Hado clambered up out of the pack, balanced on her shoulder and leaped gracefully onto the table, landing directly on the feather. The cat batted it, bit it, and growled a tiny growl.
Abbi laughed.
