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“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen you shoot,” he said sourly, taking it off the wall.
“You haven’t seen me shoot that.”
“And I’m not going to. What kind of demons?”
“What?”
“Demons. What kind are you facing?” Pritkin demanded.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“My information wasn’t that precise,” I said, stung by the disbelief on his face. If he’d known what I’d had to go through to get that much . . . “I was just told that there’s a lot of them. They’re around this house and I . . . well, I need to get in.”
“Where is the house?”
“Why do you need to know that?”
He looked at me, exasperated. “Different demon groups frequent different areas. They are often territorial, as your vampires used to be. Knowing where this house is could possibly tell us what you are facing, or at least narrow the field.”
“Yeah,” I said, because that made sense. “Only no.”
Pritkin frowned. “What?”
I didn’t say anything. It had just hit me that I couldn’t say anything. Geography didn’t matter because these demons weren’t there for the usual reasons. They were there because Mom had summoned them—or whatever you did to call up an unholy army. I couldn’t tell him where I was going, because he knew the location of Tony’s farmhouse, and he was even less likely than Jonas to help me muck around with my own past. And of course, what I was planning to do was off-limits since no way would he go along with any plan to help me walk into hell.
Basically, I couldn’t tell him anything.
“I can’t tell you anything,” I said, knowing how well that was likely to go over. “I wish I could, but I can’t. I just need something that will get me through a forest of unknown demons and to the front door, long enough for someone to let me in. Do you have anything like that?”
Pritkin crossed his arms and glared at me. “Yes.”
Chapter Seven
“I didn’t mean you,” I said viciously, when we materialized in the middle of a dark, foggy field a few minutes later.
Pritkin was too busy scanning the area Special Ops–style to bother answering. Just like he hadn’t mentioned that he intended to grab me just as I started to shift. I should have figured it out when he suddenly got cooperative, but I’d been distracted trying to make the too-short emerald T-shirt he’d loaned me fit over my ass.
It wasn’t working that great.
I pulled it down again, wishing that he was taller or that I had a coat. It was chilly, and the thin tee wasn’t doing a lot to keep goose bumps from popping up. Or a couple of other things.
“Is it obvious that I’m not wearing a bra?” I asked nervously. I hadn’t given a lot of thought to what I would wear when I went to visit my parents, but a thin old T-shirt with nothing underneath wasn’t on the list.
“I . . . hadn’t noticed,” Pritkin told me.
I looked down at the offending mounds, which were straining the soft green cotton. And making a couple of points about my lack of underwear. “Do you think anyone else will
?”
He glanced at me and then looked quickly away. “Well . . .”
“Well what?”
“They are a bit . . . jiggly.”
