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“We need to leave,” I tell her. “There’s a decent chance that the person who hired him doesn’t know he’s dead yet and will still go to the vestibule.” I turn to the witch as I take Sophia’s arm. “My gratitude,” I tell her with a slight bow.
“And mine,” she says with a growing grin. “For the meal.”
I hurry Sophia out the door so she won’t have to bear witness to what the witch means by that. Her slight shudder tells me that she’s already come to the correct conclusion.
“Where is this vestibule?” she asks.
“This way,” I inform, leading her to a narrow flight of stairs. “The second level over the vestibule is nothing but a narrow catwalk with railings, intended for maintenance. Two demons and a body wouldn’t fit all at once, so I’m assuming they were intending to meet on the first floor. The upper level will give us the best vantage point.”
“Good,” she says, her voice laced with cold fury. “I can’t wait to meet the scumbag who’s been trying to kill me.”
I hesitate, picturing that. The employer showing up, expecting to find a low-level demon and a body—only to find demon royalty and a very much not dead Sophia. Rage and frustration, even if this being is a coward like Sophia believes, would be enough to make any demon explode.
“You shouldn’t come,” I tell her.
“I’m coming,” she says dismissively.
“Sophia, this demon, whoever it is, is going to fly into a temper when they see that their plans have been thoroughly thwarted. It isn’t safe for you to be there, even if you stay up on the walk. One sort of blast attack, and the whole thing comes down.”
“Sure,” she shrugs. “And the second the person finds you in there instead of his minion, they’ll assume the minion is dead and send another one after me. It’s a long walk back to the room, Lucifer. Lots of opportunities for an ambush.Even if I make it back to the room in one piece, we were both away from it for several hours. After so many failed attempts, don’t you think they might double up on the aggression? There could be a snake or something waiting for me.”
I grind my teeth, frustrated because I know she’s right. Until I figure out who’s behind these attacks, the safest place for her is by my side, no matter where I happen to be. She shouldn’t have to live in fear—it’s time to put an end to it.
“Besides,” she continues with steel in her voice. “This is my life on the line. I’m staying.”
I can’t fault her for that. We’ve reached the second level and I lead her through the servant halls to the catwalk. Although the windows in this room are immense, it’s still dark outside. The only light is the dim orange glow of lanterns from below, not strong enough to penetrate the shadows up here.
We sit in tense silence, waiting. If the person has already come and gone, we won’t know it until morning, and we’ll be left without any kind of lead at all, and will have to wait for the next attempt to track the villain down. I push the thought away with a silent snarl. There won’t be another attempt, I’ll make sure of it.
I hear the palace beginning to stir. It’s early yet, too early for the usual debauchery, but people with more important things on their minds than their next fix are already beginning their daily activities. For a moment, it makes me think that we did miss our mark. That whoever hired that demon has already abandoned the plan. But then, if I were the one arranging clandestine meetings, I wouldn’t do it in the dead of night. I would wait until there were others moving around. Sure, it bears an inherent risk of witnesses, but there’s a smaller chance of someone remembering you, specifically, being wherever it is you shouldn’t be.
A wedge of light spreads across the floor as the door opens silently. A hooded figure creeps furtively into the room and closes the door.”Runner.” He whispers it, but the acoustics of the room carry his voice clearly. “Runner, where are you? Damn that little beast—how hard is it to kill a single woman?”
Sophia is tense with rage, glaring down at the man. She looks like she’d happily jump off and snap his neck if she could survive the fall. The man grumbles under his breath and takes a lantern from the wall. He holds it up, casting its light into the corners of the vestibule—then pushes his hood off.
Shock ripples through me.Meshach. My fingers curl around the rail as I try to make sense of this. Meshach, the man who fought like a warrior by my side, is trying to kill my Sophia. Why? I would have brought him into my plans, would have trusted him to abide by his word.
Damn it all, I liked the man, and I don’t like anybody.
What goal could he possibly hope to accomplish by murdering Sophia?
Sophia meets my gaze with a hard, flat glare. Even though no words pass her lips, the look in her eye says it all and she’s right. It doesn’t matter who he is. It doesn’t even matter why he’s after her. This is the man who has been trying to end Sophia’s life from the start, and he must be stopped. I give Sophia a slight nod before vaulting over the rail.
His back is to me when I land between him and the door. He freezes, lantern aloft.
“You aren’t Runner,” he says calmly. “What a shame. He was a good little servant, you know.”
“As good a servant as that snake of yours?” I growl.
Meshach turns slowly around with a half-smile on his face. “She was a good pet, you know. Loyal to a fault.”
“I’m sure she’s dying to see you,” I tell him as my muscles tighten. “She shouldn’t have to wait much longer.”
I launch myself at him and meet him in the air sooner than I’d anticipated. We crash to the ground, neither able to push the other back along their trajectory.That shouldn’t have happened.We’re fairly evenly matched in the weight department. My power should have been enough to force him back. Before I can fully absorb what just happened, Meshach isattacking.
My body is responding before my brain has time to register movement. Meshach has me feeling slow and stupid in a one-on-one fight.How?We’re hurdling in an arc, crashing through the door. The few seconds that we spend airborne are enough for me to reflect on the fight thus far. Those moves… I know those moves.
By the time we hit the floor of the great hall, I’m ready. As soon as I tap into the source memory, my muscle memory engages. Dodge left. Dodge right. Sweep the leg, wrap and twist, heel to jaw. Meshach responds exactly the way I expect him to, throwing power around that none but the children of Cephalus should possess, matching my every move with a counter move of his own. Drills, eons of drills, pour out of my body.
