“Only you, Myla.”
I polish off the bar. “So, I can’t get over how my igni acted around that Durus. They wouldn’t do what I told them. They only wanted to sing. And it was the dark igni too, so their music was a bunch of screeching. Think about two-dozen Yoko Ono clones doing speed metal covers. That’s pretty much the idea.”
Lincoln starts laughing so hard, he almost chokes on a carrot. “What were they singing about?”
“Something about dragons and finding someone. I don’t know. Finally, I told them to shut up and they went away. It was so strange.”
“Doesn’t sound like a big deal to me. Don’t they pop in every so often with odd messages, anyway? This is just the first time they did it when you were telling them to do something else.”
“That’s true.” The igni are notorious for chattering on about cryptic nonsense.
“I wouldn’t worry about it, not unless it happens again.” Lincoln bites off more carrot. “Now, tell me more about Adair. Let’s start with the investigation. What’s she looking into, specifically?”
“How the Ghost Towers are overcrowded and ready to blow. It’s an official inquiry, so there’s no way to bury it. Cissy said she could stall the news getting out, though. So, that’s a help.”
“Nice to have friends in high places.”
“You’re telling me.” I frown. “But after announcing her investigation, Adair asked if I couldn’t move souls to Heaven because I’ve lost some of my powers. I hate to admit it, but after the igni ignored me with the Durus, her words have really gotten under my skin.”
“You losing your powers? That’s impossible.”
“No, it’s possible, alright. There’s one disease where a Scala loses their igni. It’s called the Bloodstone Curse.” I’m tempted to discuss the symptoms, but I’ve had enough nastiness to contemplate for one day.
“So there’s one disease where a Scala loses igni. Whatever. You’re the most powerful Scala in a thousand years. Adair’s just trying to rile you up.”
“Most likely.” I raise my pointer finger, as if an idea’s just occurred to me. “Hey, why can’t she stalk you for a change?”
“Antrum’s totally locked-down. If she got within fifty yards of me without an official reason to be there, my guards would chuck her in the dungeons like that.” Lincoln snaps his fingers. “So, unfortunately, you have to be the focus of her mania.” He bows slightly at the waist. “My sincere apologies.”
“Well, now that you’re here, I’m sure we can share the load.” I tear open another Demon bar.
Lincoln’s right eyebrow lifts in disbelief. “Aren’t you going to ruin your dinner?”
“What are you, my mom? Besides, my parents won’t be back for hours. Dinner is late-night thing around here, if we get to it at all.”
Lincoln sets aside his carrots, a sudden gleam in his eyes. “So, I’ve been thinking about your warehouse problem.”
“And?”
“What if I call in the thrax Alchemists?”
I munch more Demon bar and ponder. For thrax royalty, Alchemists are like food tasters, only with magic. Everyone wants to control the King and Queen of the Thrax, and lots of bad-minded folks try enchantments, potions, you name it. Thrax Alchemists test stuff for evil magic.
“It’s a thought at that,” I say.
“Do you think Walker would be insulted? He’s been running this operation all along and you’ll be bringing in new faces.”
“No, he’s a practical guy. There’s a huge warehouse of magical stuff to search through. I’m sure he’d love all the help he can get.”
“Well, he’ll love the Alchemists, that’s for certain. They’re more scientists than sorcerers.”
“But do they know a lot about enchantments and stuff on machines? Looking at Walker’s note, I guess the warehouse is full of them.”
“Sure.” He gestures to the mixer. “Let me show you.”
Our gazes lock, and the world seems to freeze for a full minute. I’m suddenly very aware that we’re all alone in my house. No parents. Nowhere to be. Just time, quiet and each other…Something that hasn’t happened in weeks. The air crackles with electricity and anticipation. The lust demon side of my lust-and-wrath combo powers awakens within me.
A sneaky smile rounds my lips. “What are you going to show me?”
“Why, the mixer, of course.”
My heart kicks harder as I wonder what Lincoln really plans to do. I turn to face the bizarre contraption on the countertop. “Okay, I’m listening.”