“If they’ve been smiting demons in the heart of Pax, it’s obvious they don’t care about breaking the Concords,”I point out as I finish using her hand to scratch out the runes, then huff with frustration.“Do you have matches? I can’t conjure flame through you without the knife.”
“Oh yes,”she says, and moments later, she’s stepping through an open rift into my office.
“But that’s what I’m saying,” she says out loud, continuing the conversation as if she hasn’t just traveled from one realm to another. “I think maybe the ephilium aren’t behind any of this.”
I stare at her. I want to laugh, except it’s obvious she’s not joking. “Why would you say that?”
She flushes a little, that delightful pink shade rising under her freckles. “I just…have a gut feeling.”
It makesmygut twist, hearing her offer such an empty explanation. Is she trying to direct my attention away from the pale-bloods? But why? Because she’s hiding something from me? Some kind of ephilium-shaped betrayal that might also explain every other strange thing about her?
“That’s completely absurd,” I say, hating how harshly it comes out. “You must have better reasoning than that.” Fear makes me cruel, a fear I don’t want to give a name to even in my own head, as if that alone would make it real.
She scowls. “Well…we know no water’s been taken from the Morphos since you put a patrol on it. So whatever they’re jumpy about taking into Aradis can’t be lake water.”
“That just proves they’re up to something else too. It doesn’t mean theyweren’tbehind taking the lake water—including baiting demons to get past our wards and then smiting them,” I say.
She crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow.
“Think about it, Syrus. If they’re trying to hide the fact they broke the Concords and they thought there was even asmallpossibility I was spying for the demons—and believe me, it definitely occurred to the captain who questioned me—why would they ever let me go?”
“I don’t know,” I say coldly. “Why would they?”
Her brow furrows, confusion and annoyance warring on her face. “Am I missing something? You’re being an asshole. More of an asshole than usual, I mean.”
I tug a hand through my hair, trying to clear my mind. I don’t know what to think—she takes up too much space in my thoughts already, clouding my ability to judge the situation. And since that’s unlikely to change anytime soon, I need to create some safeguards.
“You can’t trust the pale-bloods,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “They may look noble and god-like and righteous, but they can be just as monstrous as—well—as monstrous as humans think demons are.”
“You really hate them, don’t you?” she asks softly.
I shake my head, pushing away the swell of emotion in my chest. “It’s not like that. I’m just being realistic. Which means doing what I can to protect you too.” And to protect myself—maybe even all of us.
I cross to my desk, rifling through the drawers. “Now Viz has pretty much every writing implement known to demon-kind knocking around in here, so there should—ah, here we go.”
I pull out the calligraphy brush and pot of ink. Sitting in my chair, I push some papers aside and pat the top of the desk. “Sit.”
She gives me a loaded look.
“Sit,please,” I correct myself.
She smiles, and my reckless, demonic heart contracts in a way that tells me just how important it is, what I’m about to do.
She pushes past my knees to pull herself up onto the desk, perching on the edge so her legs are bracketed by mine. I can feel the warmth of her calf as it shifts against my thigh, so I reach out and take hold of her wrist before I give in to the temptation to wrap my hand around her leg instead and pull her into my lap.
Her pulse flutters against my thumb as I draw her arm closer, dipping the brush into the ink.
“These runes will help protect you from the ephilium in future,” I say as I press the brush tip lightly to the inside of her wrist. “So hopefully you don’t have to worry about any more run-ins like today.”
Leah shivers. “That tickles,” she breathes, and I hope she misses how my hand shakes slightly on the tail of the second rune as I battle with my self-control. “What do you mean anyway? Like the runes will ward them off?”
“Not quite.” I avoid her gaze so she won’t see what I’m not saying. For now, I can only safely give her this partial truth. “But they should dampen pale-blood power. For example, an ephilium would get weaker while touching you as long as you’re wearing these. And the ink is water-resistant. It won’t wash off for a few months at least.”
I tilt her hand, continuing the row of runes so it starts to form a band around her wrist. She squints at them.
“Can you read them?” I ask, keeping my voice casual. Then, in Cyrax: “I know you’ve started to understand it. The demon tongue.”
She licks her lips. “You noticed that?” she replies in Cyrax too. I don’t anticipate the jolt of arousal it sends through me, and I have to briefly pause painting the runes so I don’t make a mistake.
