“Emerazel must inflame you at times. Is it true that fire demons have uncontrollable passions? That must be interesting for a Puritan like you.” The beginning of a smile played on her lips.
He stared at the steam rising from the cauldron. “Those consequences you mentioned…”
“Yes?”
“Do you know the details?”
The Queen smiled unreservedly now, sinking lower in her chair. “You mean you don’t?”
“I haven’t had a lot of time to research it.”
“Everything comes with a price. Knowledge about what that means,” she pointed at the scar on his chest, “comes with a particularly high one.”
“I can pay you.”
She ran a finger along his scar. “Not gold. I’ll think of something.”
Seven hells. “Or you could just give me the information because it would be a nice thing to do.”
Leaning back, she pulled out a small, silver flask and unscrewed the top. “You need some of this. Maybe it will loosen you up a little.” She filled his cup to the top with a sweet-smelling liquor before filling her own cup.
Tobias took a sip of his new brew, now a mixture of bitter beer and rum. “I take it you won’t tell me anything about my fire powers.”
Her fingernails drummed on her cup. “What do you know of the history of the gods?”
“Only the stories told to children around the hearth. That the gods once lived in the heavens, flickering from one universe to the next, creating stars and watching them die, until some of them took a special interest in earth—the only world with language. They wanted to see what we would do with Angelic. But in giving us Angelic, they committed a terrible sin, and a war erupted. As punishment, the gods who’d transgressed were imprisoned in the earth and moon.” It was all he could remember. “How does that relate to my scar?”
She fixed her cold stare on him. “I’m not a nice person, Tobias. I’m a strong person. Niceness and strength don’t mix that well, I find. Which are you?”
He sipped his brew. “Still working that one out.”
She held his gaze. “They’re coming for you, you know.”
“Who?”
“The Purgators. The Throcknells. Everyone who wants to kill you. Your time on earth is limited.” She quirked a smile. “Might as well enjoy yourself.”
4
Fiona
Gasping, she awoke to the sound of dogs barking in the stall next to hers. She blinked, staring at the thin streams of moonlight that slid through chinks in the rough kennel walls. The hay beneath her scratched her bare shoulders, and the smell of the hounds was nearly suffocating.
Nightmares had plagued her sleep. Her subconscious had chosen to show her Jack, his stomach gnawed open by the Fury while fire blazed around him. Flames had singed his porcelain skin, and he’d howled in agony.
She lay in a fetal position, facing the wall. She wished more than ever that she could go home, that she could sit in Mom’s cluttered kitchen eating pasta and listening to the radio.
Outside, a keening sound pierced the air. She listened closer. It was the wolves—the familiars—howling into the wind.
Must be a full moon.
She glanced at the cell phone by her head. Eight at night, and still no word from Mom. She must have lost her phone, because there was no way she’d ignore Fiona this long. One way or another, Fiona needed to get her a message. When her familiar caught up with them, she’d send him off on a mission.
After dinner, she was supposed to patrol the woods, looking out for sea demons. Wandering in the dark was no problem, but the threat of the sea demons made her blood run cold. She’d always known that something dreadful lurked in the ocean’s depths.
She sighed. It was oddly warm in here—too warm, for a spring night in New England.
Next to her ear, she heard a low murmur, and she jumped, flipping over. Tobias lay beside her, sleeping. He was murmuring about “apple cakes” and hugging a pile of clothes. At least someone was having nice dreams.
Away from the warmth of his body, she shivered, hugging her knees to her chest. Things had been strained between them on the car ride here, ever since she’d learned that he’d been lying to her. He’d lied about the mark on his chest, about sneaking around at night, about finding ways to kill Jack, about the fact he was no longer—what? Fully human? No one seemed to know.
All she knew was that he’d nearly burned down the entire Purgator temple with his mind.
Maybe she’d been unfair to him, but it wasn’t his demonic powers that pissed her off. It was all the lies. Had deception always come so easily to him, or was it a demon trait?
Regret twisted in her chest. God knew how many times she’d lied to Mom, but for some reason when Tobias did it, it really bothered her.
She glanced at his sharp cheekbones and dark hair. His beauty almost made it hard to stay angry. His lips looked soft. What would it be like to kiss a fire demon? Would it be slow and simmering like a charcoal brazier, or would he bring with it the frantic intensity he’d used in the Purgator fight, igniting the trees like torches? She had the strongest urge to touch his skin.