Birra looked at my hand. “You’re not wearing a ring.”
“We made a formal verbal affirmation,” Daziel said. “Then we exchanged gifts symbolizing our love, upon the acceptance of which the betrothal is confirmed. The ring came from Naomi. My gift was different.”
“What, like pearls?” Élodie frowned thoughtfully. “Or a pomegranate?”
I’d forgotten about the blasted pomegranate.
I wanted to curse. I evenknew, sort of, that pomegranates were associated with love and fertility, but like a secondary definition. Mostly I thought of them as symbols of righteous order.
“Yes.” Daziel bared his teeth. “Precisely.”
“If you guys don’t mind,” I said tightly, trying to keep my seething under the surface, “Daziel and I have to talk.”
Birra scowled. “Did you tell Madame Hadar? Even if youarebetrothed, you have to clear things with her. And fill out a form.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Hmph,” she said, and I had no doubt she’d be on her way to Madame Hadar’s momentarily.
I closed the door, then pulled Daziel by his arm into my bedroom as a safeguard against eavesdroppers. Closing my door, I whirled on Daziel. “You tricked me.”
“I’m honored you’ve invited me into your chamber.” His gaze landed on a bra lying on the floor. His mouth twitched, making me very aware he was a teenage boy.
I shoved the bra in a drawer, my cheeks hot. “YouknewI didn’t know what the pomegranate meant.”
His black gaze snapped back to mine. “You shouldn’t have accepted it, then.”
My mouth fell open. “Excuse me,you’rethe one who tricked me into it!”
He arched his brows. “Is it a trick if I asked and you accepted?”
I glared at him. He was infuriating. “Yes. It is.”
I stomped out of my rooms, grabbingA Household Guide to Demonson the way. Daziel certainly didn’t need it, except for a laugh.
“Good night,” he said behind me, sounding peeved. As though he thought I was being rude and wanted to make a point of his own good manners.
I refused to let him think he had better manners than me. “Good night,” I snapped back. Unfortunately, slamming the door as I left probably undermined my attempt to be polite.
Leah made me up a bed on the sofa, since our own were too small to share unless you were as in love as Jelan and Gilli. After she went to bed, I flipped through the book my mother had given me, rereading sections as though they’d offer more help the second time around. I paged through the chapter on rings, my gaze catching on a footnote I’d skimmed over before:In Levin’sA Case for the Augmentative Power of Artifacts, he argues a ring’s ability to affect a demon is directly linked to the quality and craftsmanship of the ring itself, refracted and amplified by material and maker’s skill…
I considered this. I’d never heard of any such thing, but I’d only been at the Lyceum a month. Perhaps a fancier ring would do a better job at banishing Daziel?
The memory of Daziel holding up his hand flashed in my mind. Next to my cheap band had been a heavy signet ring.
It wouldn’t be easy to obtain the ring, then carve it with any sort of spell. But Daziel might be asleep right now; Leah definitely was, from her tragically loud snores. If there was ever a moment to slip off someone’s ring, it would be when they were unconscious.
Taking a deep breath, I padded to Leah’s door, opening it slowly so the hinges wouldn’t creak. I slipped across the hall, pausing outside my own door. No light spilled from beneath, and when I pressed my ear close, I heard only silence.
Okay. Here went nothing.
Slowly, pulse pounding in my ears and anxiety turning my hands sweaty, I slid my key into the lock and pulled the door open with the carefulness of a surgeon. The living room was dark, and I closed the door quickly, breathing as quietly as possible as my eyes adjusted. Moonlight spilled in, soft and silver.
Daziel lay curled up in a nest of blankets on the floor. Smoke rings floated up from his nostrils, carrying the scent of scorched dust.
I crept to his side, my fearful nerves growing as I crouched low. He breathed slowly, slower than a human. Paz rested on his chest, rising and falling.
His hand with the ring lay flung out to his side. His fingers, long and talon-tipped, curled up slightly in sleep.
