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Cyn rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t—I mean…” I scrubbed both hands over my face. “This is way too heavy for first thing in the morning. I can’t think straight without coffee.” I frowned, peering up at Zeke. “I’m not saying you can’t, just that you’re touchy for someone who doesn’t really know me.”
“So it doesn’t bother you?”
“No—I mean, yes. I don’t know! I need coffee to have this conversation.”
The bright smile I’d seen the night before returned to his face. “I’m growing on you.”
I shook my head, slinking into the kitchen. “I wouldn’t go that far. I hardly know you. Besides, why aren’t you acting like demons are supposed to?” I loaded a K-Cup into the Keurig, set a mug on the metal tray, and switched the machine on.
Ash turned and leaned against the counter, folding his arms over his chest, a wry smile lifting the corner of his lips. “And how are demons supposed to act?”
I waved a hand, returning my attention to the liquid gold pouring into my cup. “I don’t know. Demonic?”
Zeke snorted, trying not to laugh as he slid onto the stool I vacated.
“And what does that mean?” Ash asked, moving out of Cyn’s way when he entered the kitchen.
“Evil? Like, aren’t you supposed to be ripping my skin off my bones or drinking my blood?”
“You can’t really rip skin off bones,” Zeke said matter-of-factly, leaning forward on his arms. “Off of muscle, yeah, but not bone.”
“Oh, well, excuse me for not being anatomically correct.”
“It’s an important distinction.”
“Okay, then, aren’t you supposed to be ripping my skin from my muscles?”
“Nope. Shyrlivi don’t do that kind of thing. Malsath absolutely do, but no one wants to run into one.” He shuddered.
“And Shyrlivi is what y’all are, right?”
“Yep.”
Cyn placed forks beside a stack of plates surrounded by breakfast foods and a bowl of fruit.
“Okay… So what’s a malsath?”
“Something you never want to meet,” Ash said, scooping eggs onto his plate. “They’re closest to the red-and-black imps with horns, tails, and serrated teeth your ancestors painted. They hang out in Feranzis.”
“Where?”
“Feranzis. A place outside—”
“She’ll never encounter them, or Feranzis,” Ezra said, closing the book. His cold eyes met mine. “She’ll never see Niemna.”
He unnerved me with his silence, ignoring the others as if they weren’t there. Was his obliviousness to his surroundings genuine or a calculated act to deceive me?
I still didn’t trust the demons.
Were they trying to lull me into a false sense of security before striking? Four grown men could overpower me easily—four demons even more so. Especially ones who looked like that. They didn’t need my guard down.
“Before you ask,” Zeke said, snagging my attention. “Niemna is the plane where Elyrdin is located.”
“This is all so confusing,” I mumbled, taking another sip of my coffee.
“And not important to you anyway.” Cyn leaned his hip against the counter, taking a bite of sausage. “Sit down, shut up, and eat.”