Ignoring Benjamin’s childish snickering, Sikras forced a polite grin. “As far as ...?”
Canida laughed. “I don’t have to spell it out for you, do I? Is sex still taboo if I’m only kind of dead?”
Holding his grin, Sikras cleared his throat and placed a hand on his chest. “I’m flattered, Canida, and while I do love a rebellious act of vengeance, my heart belongs to another.”
“A man who takes his vows seriously? Where were you two decades ago when I married Bilsby?”
“Well, I’d have been about fifteen or sixteen, so probably falling in love for the first time. That’s right about when I met my wife.”
“Adorable.” The bottle clanked as Canida set it atop a nearby table. “That’s all right. It’s my own fault. I should’ve gotten back at Bilsby when I was alive. Where is this special lady of yours? I’d love to meet her.”
The silence lasted the length of a heartbeat before Sikras smiled. “Absent.”
“Well, she’s a lucky woman.”
“She’s had better luck,” Sikras murmured.
“Sorry? I didn’t quite catch that.”
Banishing his self-pity to the back of his mind, where it could fester with the rest of his mental problems, Sikras sprung to his feet. “I said perhaps Benjamin can aid you in your final quest. He’s always been something of a ladies’ man.”
“The skeleton?” Canida turned a baffled gaze toward Ben. “No offense, but you haven’t a single organ to your name let alone the one I’m looking for.”
“Oh-ho, Madam Canida, trust me”—Benjamin struck a valiant pose, chest out, hands on his hips—“I know a thing or two about—”
Sikras’s raised hand abruptly ended the sentence. “Benjamin, you know I love your bone jokes as much as the next person, but Miss Canida is running on borrowed time.”
“Fair enough.” Benjamin offered Canida an arm, an open invitation. “You’ll forget you ever had a husband when I’m through with you, and not just because your brain is slowly deteriorating.”
Canida stared at the offering, her expression a mixture of doubt and hesitation, until she sprung from her chair. “You know what? Fuck it.”
“That’s the plan.” Benjamin patted her hand when she weaved her arm into what remained of his. “Right this way. With luck, Sikras will have actually made his move in Rack and Ruin before we’re finished.”
As the pair vanished into a secluded bedroom down the hallway, Sikras shuffled toward the exit. Much as he wished to finish their Rack and Ruin game, dropping eaves on Canida and Benjamin’s extracurricular activities rated very low on his list of desires. Perhaps a brisk walk around the grounds would do him some good. If nothing else, it’d help to clear the lingering thoughts of his wife.
Winded from the resurrection, he nabbed the tall, ethereal scythe leaning against the wall, and gave it a tender stroke. “Hello, lovely.” Despite the weapon’s appearance and craftsmanship that would suggest otherwise, it was nearly weightless. With his fingers, Sikras twirled it effortlessly and planted the blunt end of the staff onto the floor. As was the circumstances with most casters, he couldn’t wield a weapon to save his life, but Death’s scythe made a damn fine walking stick when he was still reeling from the effects of magical backlash.
Just as he reached for the door handle to make his exit, a knock sounded on the other side.
“Oh, look,” he muttered, “Mr. Bilsby has returned already to call me a thieving hustler, and it only took him five, ten minutes? Must be a new—”
The door’s hinges squealed as he opened it.
“—record.” Sikras blinked, gawking at the strange woman before him.
Two clashing eyes stared back, one humanoid in appearance, the other a brilliant red iris set inside a black sclera. She boasted a silent, otherworldly charm along with her soft complexion. A pair of twisting horns emerged through an explosion of pink hair pulled into a messy bun, and though they rarely emerged from their homeland of Chthonia, there was no doubt in his mind that the woman before him was a demon. Draped around her neck, a recognizable, crimson scarf added a pop of color to the neutral tones of her leather armor.
He’d know that scarf anywhere. Not only was she a demon, she was a member of the Red Sentinel.
And honestly, Sikras didn’t know which promised to be more detrimental to his health.
