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“And my bloody feet won’t?”
“If it could cost you so much, why are you helping us?” Caleb asked her, eyes narrowed.
“Shouldn’t you have asked that before we got here?” Casanova demanded.
“I’m asking now.”
“The feud between John and his father is tearing the family apart,” Rian told him. “Among other things, it is making the master look weak. Some have begun to say, if he cannot control his own son, perhaps he should not be the one to control the family—and that is dangerous.”
“Who else would do it?”
“As at any court, ours has factions, senior demons and their followers, who constantly vie with each other for advantage. Rosier himself is usually above such squabbles, but John is his weak point and everyone knows it. And as with all who hold power, he has enemies.”
“Imagine that,” Casanova said poisonously. “And such a pleasant creature.”
“He is better than those who would replace him,” Rian said, more sharply.
“When you said this was tearing the family apart, does that mean some are taking Pritkin’s side?” I asked hopefully. Because we could use more friends.
But of course not.
“No. No one understands his reluctance to feed. It is seen as proof of his humanness, his alienness. No incubus could go so long. . . .” She shuddered. “It is against our very nature, against everything we are.”
“Then it sounds like everybody agrees with Rosier,” I said sourly.
But she shook her head. “Almost no one does. Few understood his obsession with obtaining a half-human child, and even fewer can comprehend why he refuses to let that child live as he chooses. Yes, John could be an asset to the family if he would use his powers on our behalf. But if he will not . . .”
“Oh yes. The horror,” Casanova said bitterly. “His father wants him to live in the lap of luxury, surrounded by beautiful women, and be treated like a prince. And all he has to do in return is sex up a few probably gorgeous demons. But what does he choose instead?”
“To live his own life,” I said. “To not be prostituted out by his father to gain power for Rosier’s ambitions. Which he doesn’t have control over and which could be any damned—”
“Oh, please. We’re all cogs in someone else’s ambitions, whether we like it or not. That’s life. If you’re smart, instead of bucking the system, you get what you can out of it.”
“Yeah, if you’re a selfish son of a—”
“Don’t even try that, little girl,” Casanova snapped. “I’m selfish? What about your precious mage? We’re at war, in case you didn’t notice.”
“That’s the reason he’s here,” I said impatiently. “He saved me—”
“Yes, one person. And what about the rest of us?”
“What about you? What was Pritkin supposed to do—”
“He was supposed to realize that, if he would get his head out of his ass, bow that stubborn neck to his father, and ask nicely, maybe he could get us some allies worth a damn!”
“What are you talking about?”
“The demon lords,” Casanova said severely. “The demon council. Do you have any idea how much power they have?”
“Carlos . . .” Rian said quietly.
“You want somebody to win this war for you, to do it fast?” Casanova demanded, ignoring her. “That’s where you want to turn for help. But instead, what are we doing?” He flung out a hand. “We’re doing our best to piss them off!”
“Carlos—” Rian said, a bit more urgently.
But Casanova was on a roll. “Let’s look at the facts, shall we? The damned mage gets his back up, decides he doesn’t want to be a demon. So he comes to earth, forgetting that you don’t merely get to wave something like that away. You are what you are. Denying it is just a head game you play with yourself. But his head game resulted in a girl getting dead—”
“That’s not fair!” I said, glaring at him.
