My answer was a shrug. “Hard to tell. You know how it is.”
She pulled her glasses off and folded them closed. “Sometimes it takes a while for things to click into place.”
“Yeah.” I paused, took a seat in an armchair that faced the front window. “Is Carl still here?”
She shook her head, eyes on me. “What’s on your mind, sweets?”
I said it quickly before I could change my mind or lose my nerve. “Do you hate Rhyzkahl for killing my grandmother?” I caught myself before adding “your mother” to clarify. Tessa knew who I was talking about.
Tessa marked the place in the book and set it aside. Dragonflight, I absently noted. “There was a time when I did,” she said, voice even. Then a smile flickered across her mouth. “And to answer the question you left unasked,” she continued, “no, I have never felt any sort of anger or ire toward you for your arrangement with the lord.”
Arrangement. That was one way of putting it. I had no doubt Tessa was fully aware what sort of relationship we had. “So, um, you don’t hate him anymore?” I asked, frowning. Would I be so forgiving? I sure as hell wasn’t toward Evelyn Stark. Then again, for some reason it had never bothered me until recently that Rhyzkahl had killed my grandmother. I’d somehow assumed that was a failure of character on my part, but now I couldn’t help but wonder—had Rhyzkahl deliberately suppressed thoughts I might have had about my grandmother? He’d sworn not to compel me against my will, but making sure I didn’t think unpleasant thoughts wasn’t “compelling.” The idea left a sour taste in my mouth. I have no proof, I reminded myself. I never knew my grandmother, and she was involved in dangerous practices.
Great. So either I was a cold bitch, or my lover had been playing tricks with my head. Fucking hell, but I sure hoped a third option came along soon.
Tessa didn’t seem to notice my inner turmoil. She turned her head to look out the window, mouth slightly pursed and forehead creased. She stayed silent for nearly a full minute, but I had the feeling she was choosing what to say in response to my question. I did my best to wait patiently for her answer.
“When I was in the void, I…learned things,” she said, nearly whispering, forcing me to strain to hear her. “I don’t think there’s any way to describe it, because it was more a sense of how things are and how they are meant to be rather than any particular nugget of information. But in the time since I woke I’ve been trying to assimilate it all.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug and glanced at me with a wry smile. “And somewhere in there I could not maintain my anger at Rhyzkahl.”
“But why?” I persisted.
“Because what he did was necessary.” She shook her head, seemingly dissatisfied with the answer. “I’m sorry, sweets, it’s difficult to explain.”
“Does that mean you’re all right with me being his summoner?” I asked with a touch of disbelief.
She laughed. “Oh, powers above and below, no! But not because of who he is or what he’s done.”
“Because he’s a demonic lord,” I said.
She hesitated, nodded, an odd expression of dismay and resignation whispering across her features before she smoothed them out and answered me. “That’s as close an answer as I can give you.”
Chapter 11
I remembered to snap the cuff around my wrist before I stepped beyond the wards, thus avoiding being tackled by Eilahn. I knew the syraza was always nearby, but the amazing thing was that I never felt as if I was under any sort of surveillance, and it was remarkably easy to forget about her. As a guardian of someone who was jealous of their privacy, she was perfect.
A wave of queasiness hit me as I drove past a fried chicken stand, and I gritted my teeth against it. Sure, the cuff gave me a great deal of peace of mind, but this constant simmering nausea sucked. If pregnancy and morning sickness were anything like this, I wanted no part of it.
A cold stab of apprehension went through me. I’d been blithely assuming the nausea was because of the cuff. Was I engaging in unhealthy denial? Nausea, check. Mood swings, check. Shiiiiiit. I’d read enough novels where the woman felt sick and seemed somehow oblivious to the connection between regular booty calls and getting knocked up. I was definitely getting the former. But I’m also on the pill, I thought, almost desperately. I’d slept with Rhyzkahl the night before, but when was the last time prior to that?