“Hey, Benny. How’s Rachel’s hip?”
Tolliver and I share matching stunned looks.
“Still on the mend,” Benny says. “But she appreciates the fudge brownies you sent over. She wants the recipe.”
“I’ll bring it over tomorrow,” CJ says, opening the door and nodding for us to go in.
Who are you?I mouth at them as I enter their apartment.
Crowlene flaps in after us, landing on a perch much nicer than the one I have at home—one that I think is actually meant for birds—and settles in as though she’s a guest here all the time. Maybe she is.
The living room looks like a Pottery Barn catalog, with neutral colors, decorative vases, and rustic touches. I pick up a framed picture from a freakingcredenzato find my face smiling back at me.
It’s the whole crew before Dante died. He holds me in a playful headlock. Tolliver stands next to us, shirtless for some reason, his eyes on me instead of the camera. Crowlene perches atop Dante’s head, wings mid-flap as though she’s about to take off. On the other side, Poppy poses next to CJ, who isn’t smiling but has a spark in their eyes that I haven’t seen in a long time.
With a sigh, I set the picture back and join the others at a small kitchen table.
It’s silent, just like the drive over. CJ’s eyes are glazed. Tolliver is tapping the table. Ezra is looking between them with wide eyes.
Finally, he sits forward and meets my gaze. “Care to fill me in on what just happened?”
I swallow. “You first.”
Ezra rolls his eyes and groans. “There’s nothing to tell. We waited for you at the rendezvous as long as we could, but we were cutting it too close. CJ gives Creepy McGee her finger bone. She vanishes. We wait, but nothing happens. We spend a good hour dodging demons and guards before we get pulled back to the graveyard.”
“It was fifteen minutes, tops,” I mutter.
“CJ vanishes first. Then I get brought back and find you and Tolliver fighting a demon and apparently Hades?”
He looks at me expectantly. So do CJ and Tolliver.
I purse my lips, not meeting their gazes. I know I have to tell them, but the thing is, I really don’t want to.
I take a deep breath. “I was…conned.”
They don’t react.
“Rook…played me.”
Ezra blinks. “Oddly enough, I put that together myself. What I don’t get is how or why or what. Or who or when or where.”
I scratch the back of my neck. “It appears, like with all good cons, the mark”—I point dejectedly to myself—“thought she was in control. But the conman was the one pulling the strings the whole time.”
Ezra continues to stare at me blankly.
“Rook is a demon,” I say. “Which I guess is obvious in hindsight.”
Tolliver gasps. “Dude! The giant mansion, the suits, the really old stuff…”
“No, because of hismagic,” I say.
“Oh, right.” Tolliver nods knowingly.
Rook’s magic was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Except I had. Every time I’d seen a demon use their magic. Just like the rest of them, his powers were limitless. He even fought the other demon at the gala. Looking back, there were so many red flags. Dante would be so disappointed.
Rule #16: Never let yourself become a mark.
I take a shuddering breath. “Anyway, it’s clear Rook is part of the Cult of Hades, seeing as he conned us into resurrecting Hades so she can raise an army of the Dead and, I don’t know, take over the world. Or whatever it is that evil people do.”
