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“Shit!” I sputter.
My two conscious mates and Fluffy swivel their heads in my direction. Their gazes are full of questions and concerns.
“Is bad?” Tesq asks, pointing at the can.
“No. Is it really hot in here?” I ask Dev.
The bastard merely uses his claw to wipe a line of sweat from his furry forehead and shakes it off onto the floor. His motion is all the answer I need, and exactly the answer I don’t want.
It only creates another question.
I shake my head and lick sauce from my lips as I try to decide how to word the query that’s suddenly emerged in my head. Partof me wishes it was only Tesq in the room because then I’d feel comfortable asking him anything without hesitation.
The other mate of mine tends to fly off the handle and overreact. But then I feel guilty for that thought and want to kick myself because who knows? Dev may actually have some answers. He does go out amongst monsters more than Tesq.
A deep breath, and then, “Is it possible for a monster to…I don’t know…give me their magic?”
I try to recall if I fought any ice monsters as I moved through the offices in the back of the meat-packing plant, but I honestly have no clue. It felt like there were dozens of them, and adrenaline made the whole thing a bit of a blur.
“Give?” Tesq tilts his head thoughtfully.
But the Devourer gives a dismissive snort before transforming to his more human form. I suppose he got tired of stooping in this low-ceilinged room. Not that he isn’t tall as a semi-human. He still towers over me, making me feel small and dainty.
His red eyes glow as he fixes them on me. “No. Magic transfer isn’t possible. If it were, monsters would kill each other even more often than they do. As it is, we can increase our own power level after killing monsters, but we don’t absorb or transfer powers.”
His explanation cleaves the little hope I had in half, and it sags inside my chest. “Oh.”
“Why would you think that?”
“What did you see?” Tesq adds on.
“It’s not so much what I saw. It’s what I did,” I say in a whisper, glancing down at my can of stale pasta, far less interested in it than I was a minute ago.
They wait patiently. Well, the Devourer’s tail swishes back and forth, and I’m certain he’s curling those fists as he always does because true composure is anathema to that monster. If he could choke the answer out of me, I’m sure he would.
I’d almost rather he choke me because my own thoughts are doing a damn fine job of it right now.
I do manage to shove out words one by one, as if I’m spitting out sunflower seeds. “When I was going through the offices, I accidentally encased a monster in a snow-globe thing. I thought it was the jewels we had. They, um, are like weapons. Or spells. Something?”
I set down my fork, grab the thin pouch out of my pocket, and set it on the counter, staring at it. Nothing happens.
“Yes?” Tesq prompts me gently.
But his softness plucks at something inside of me that I can’t handle. I rip my gaze from his and turn my eyes to Dev’s demanding red glare.
“Where the hell did the ice come from?” he barks the second I lock stares with him, as if he were just waiting for me to give him my attention.
Rudeness. Rudeness is easier to handle than warmth right now.
“That’s what I want to know. I thought it was these fuckers.” I glare at the tiny drawstring bag as if it has personally offended me. Irritation keeps me talking. “But then, my palms shot icicles at this sandworm in the basement…”
I lift the hand holding my fork and examine my palm. Nothing unusual there. No blue lines or ice crystals. Just chipped nails, dirt, and substances I don’t want to question because fighting monsters is slimy work.
It takes me a moment to realize that Dev’s tail is no longer swishing and that complete silence fills Tesq’s hideout. Surprised, I glance at the two monsters only to find them staring at each other rather than me.
Dev’s eyes are wide, and Tesq has the shadow of a smile on his face, though I can’t tell what emotion he’s feeling. The melted mask mars his expression, making it impossible to decipher if he’s got a pitying smile on or a happy one.
“What?” I ask, unnerved, needing answers.
