A rhythmic sound vibrated through the walls—the drumming of hundreds of feet. The fae soldiers must be looking for them. Whatever Emerazel’s motives, Ursula didn’t have time to unravel them now.
Straining her thigh muscles, she dragged Kester into the center of the sigil Nyxobas had lit on the floor. She held Kester’s limp body, intoning the sigil spell, and with a scorching heat they burned into ash.
Chapter 45
Ursula hugged her coat around her, stalking over the icy pier to Kester’s tugboat. Cold wind nipped at her face as she rapped on his door.
Kester pulled it open and smiled, his cheek dimpling. “Ursula. Did you miss me?”
“Terribly. It’s been at least eight hours since I dragged your body from the fae realm.”
He arched an eyebrow. “And you’ve come back for more of my body? In that case, come inside.”
She rolled her eyes, stepping onto the boat. Her eyes flicked to the floor, where blood had soaked into the wood. “Sorry about the blood stains on the floor.”
“Was that your work? I didn’t know you had such a vicious side.”
“I did let him live, which was more than he was going to do for me.” Pulling off her coat, she plopped onto his green sofa. Tonight, she was back in her spring colors—sky blue and amber. She needed a night off from being a lethal, blood-soaked assassin.
Kester collected a bottle of whiskey from one of his bookshelves, and began pouring it into two glasses. “You impress me. Did you come by to celebrate your first victory?”
“I wanted to see how you were doing. Zee has been in my apartment all day pounding champagne and ranting about shadow demons. She seems a little on edge.”
He joined her on the sofa, handing her a tumbler. “That’s just how she is.”
“And I don’t understand the deal that Emerazel made with Nyxobas. Why would Emerazel want to give up a hellhound for half the year?”
Kester sighed. “The gods have been warring for a hundred thousand years. They always will. If they strike a deal, it’s because they think they can get some advantage over the other. My guess is that they both think they can use you in some way. I imagine Emerazel hopes you’re going to spy for her.”
“Lovely. So no matter what happens, I’m going to enrage at least one of them, and probably both.”
“You’ll need to be very careful. You’ll need my guidance, of course.”
She took a sip of her whiskey, rolling the peaty taste around her tongue. Her muscles still burned, and she still hadn’t managed to sleep more than an hour at a time. Every time she’d closed her eyes in her bedroom, a vision of the void had haunted her. Was that where Bael was now? Her chest tightened. Maybe Nyxobas had chosen to spare him. Bael was terrifying, but she didn’t want to be responsible for his fiery afterlife.
Her gaze slid to Kester, his skin a beautiful gold in the warm lantern light. “Why would Emerazel want me to be her spy? I don’t even know what I’m doing. Isn’t that obvious?”
He held her gaze. “You’re not a normal hellhound.”
“There are normal hellhounds?”
He smiled. “More normal than you. Hellhounds who don’t burn when they encounter their goddess. Hellhounds who don’t repel incubi, and who have a basic grasp of their own history.”
Cold dread prickled over her skin. “I’d seen Nyxobas before. I saw his eyes in my dreams.”
Kester eyed her over the rim of his drink. “You’ve certainly earned your nickname.”
“And you yours.” The whiskey leant her boldness. She had to know about Kester’s past. She took another sip, and it burned her throat as she swallowed. “Who was Oriel?”
Surprise flickered across his features, and he studied her face for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to tell her. At last, he spoke. “My sister.”
“Were you close to her?” She must have died centuries ago.
“I was.” His eyes glistened with pain. “Until Abrax stole her soul, sent her to the shadow void.”
A lump rose in Ursula’s throat. “Because you were a hellhound?”
“That’s why I became a hellhound. I needed power to avenge her. And I still haven’t succeeded. Abrax is Nyxobas’s son. He’s not an easy man to kill. But Emerazel made me a promise: once I’d filled my ledger, she would find a way to reclaim Oriel’s soul. I just needed to do everything she told me, to please her in every way. Every soul I reaped, every person I killed—it all had a purpose. It was all in the name of getting Oriel out of hell. Only I’ve started to wonder if Emerazel has any intention of sticking to her bargain. As I’ve come close to filling my ledger, she’s only added more pages. And yet I keep going, because if I fail, all of it was for nothing.”