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I was very, very relieved to hear that, but I had questions. “I can’t see you.”
“Oh!” In a flash of smoke, a creature appeared. Two feet tall and nearly just as wide in the middle. It wore what might have been a skirt wrapped around its waist, and dragged on the floor, hiding its feet from view. Its head was bald and its teeth were pointed out over its bottom lip, but it was the eyes that had me standing. Red, glowing demon eyes.
I’d seen those eyes before, but I had to know for certain. “What are you?”
“Ooh!” It clapped its hands, the fingers—too long and slender for its body—ended in sharp points. “A game! A game! You have three guesses. If you don’t guess right, I get a bite! A bite!”
A bite? With the pointy teeth, I didn’t doubt it was meant literally. But I only needed one answer. “Are you a demon?”
The thing doubled over in what I thought must’ve been laughter, but sounded more like a rustling, rasping hiss. “Demon? Do I look like one? Oh, that’s so funny! Ziriel will get such a kick out of that.” And the thing disappeared in a puff of smoke.
I was left standing there with my mouth open but hadn’t missed the fact that it hadn’t said it wasn’t a demon.
Goddammit. What kind of fey court was this if it allowed demons inside?
The thing popped back in, still laughing. “Ziriel found it so, so funny-funny!”
Perfect. I was clearly making a great impression on the king. “But are you a demon?”
“Oh, well. Not exactly a demon. Not exactly not a demon either. It depends on who you ask, but you haven’t found what I am by name. Not yet. That’s one guess wrong! Two more! Only two more! Then I get my bite.” Its voice grew deeper at the end, and everything in me screamed to kick-stomp-kill the creature, but that wasn’t my way. There could be something good inside this being, even if I wasn’t sure what that was.
“Guess more! Guess more! Need my bite! Haven’t had werewolf in so long!”
“How big of a bite?” Because now I wanted to know what I was dealing with more than I did five minutes ago. That answer of not-exactly-demon, not-exactly-not-demon was bullshit.
“Oh, I’m just a little thing. You wouldn’t think I’d take too much, would you? And you’re a powerful wolf. You would heal.”
Supernatural hurts healed human-fast for us, and his look-at-me, I’m-so-little routine didn’t convince me at all. The fey could be tricky with their size. I bet this little one could will himself bigger than the room if he wanted. One bite could swallow me whole.
I’d heal? What a crock of shit.
“What are you doing in my room?”
“Time for a bath for you. It’s all ready.”
“I thought you said it was time to go.”
“Yes! Yes! It is time to go, but first a bath.”
“Okay.” I wanted a bath, so fighting him on that seemed like a waste of energy.
“And then Ziriel wants to see you. King has plans.” The little thing rubbed his hands together, pointy nails click-clacking as they moved.
“Great.” Plans. Maybe now I’d get to talk to him about what he wanted to trade for more power. The sooner I figured that out, the sooner I could find Cosette and help her.
Chapter Eight
COSETTE
Favorite knife?
Check.
Favorite sword?
Check.
Leather pants? Spare boots? Make-up? Short shift dress, suitable for fighting or dancing?
