for buying me dinner…and for not killing me earlier.”
“Yeah, well”—he shook his head as he went back into the restaurant to pay the bill—“don’t expect either of those things to ever happen again.”
Five
Davyn found the hunter in the last place she should be spending her time—an alley after dark. Although to be fair, this one wasn’t dark. It was lit up like a Roman candle and toasty warm thanks to the thick flames that had completely overtaken the building across the street, the one she was currently staring at. Her skin looked bronze, her eyes intensifying with every flick of the fire.
Not demon fire thankfully, because the entire block would’ve gone up, but a demon had definitely set it. A stupid demon with idiot tendencies, which made Drinod the first one to pop into Davyn’s head. But why? To kill a few more humans? Listen to a few more screams?
“I got a question for you, puppet,” he growled. “Do you want to die?” He already regretted making the deal. Demons didn’t play by many rules, but that one was a biggie, the only kind of integrity his race had and the only time they could be trusted. Whether the deal was for a soul or the last piece of cake didn’t matter—if a demon made a deal, a demon kept a deal.
But …if she decided going after Lamere was more trouble than it was worth or if she died before she could claim her end of it, all would be good. And fortunately, Davyn had never agreed to not kill her himself. “Because I’d be happy to help you out with that.”
She didn’t turn away from the fire, mesmerized. “A girl was killed at a bar last night. Sucked dry. I talked to a seer on the cleanup crew. She looked like…like the girl Lamere turned .” Which meant she looked like the hunter, too.
“Then why are you here?”
“That’s where I lived.” She pointed at the inferno. “Until this afternoon. The manager told me a guy came by around midnight last night, looking for me. No one’s ever looked for me. No one. He left me a note.” She shoved a crumpled piece of paper at Davyn.
He unwrinkled it and read:
Chérie,
If you play with fire, you will get burned.
“I should’ve called in a bomb threat or something so they would all leave. I just didn’t think he would…” She swallowed. “I stayed there too long. I should’ve moved so he couldn’t find me. Then…”
“Again I ask: Why are you here now?”
She didn’t respond.
Davyn wasn’t used to being ignored. “Okay, I appreciate that you’ve accepted yourself as bait, but the being-stupid thing needs to stop.” He grabbed her by the jacket and tugged her backwards, deeper into the alley, where it was darker and cooler. She ducked and pivoted, slipping out of the jacket entirely and backing up. Her eyes connected with his and stayed with him. Good.
She needed a push. Remorse and self-pity were way more damaging to the soul than fire ever would be.
“Talk to me, puppet.”
“I thought you didn’t like it when I spoke.”
“See that pretty fire over there?” he asked. “I didn’t set it.”
“I know. He did. Lamere and his demon.” She didn’t look for a way out, but he knew it wasn’t because she was overconfident, which she was. It was because she’d already blocked-out probably a dozen different ways to get out of the alley if she had to.
Smart. If he wanted a pet, she would be his first choice. Totally adorable and with a limited lifespan.
“Technically, yeah,” he said. “But realistically, you did. You set that fire and killed all those people the second you decided to act like an idiot.”
“What did you just say?” she shouted, redirecting her self-loathing outward—where it needed to be if she wanted to stay alive. Davyn didn’t give a shit if she died but, until that happened, he couldn’t be tripping over her whaa -it’s-all-my-fault attitude.
“That’s what you were thinking, right? It’s your fault those people are dead, not the psycho who
“Yeah, well”—he shook his head as he went back into the restaurant to pay the bill—“don’t expect either of those things to ever happen again.”
Five
Davyn found the hunter in the last place she should be spending her time—an alley after dark. Although to be fair, this one wasn’t dark. It was lit up like a Roman candle and toasty warm thanks to the thick flames that had completely overtaken the building across the street, the one she was currently staring at. Her skin looked bronze, her eyes intensifying with every flick of the fire.
Not demon fire thankfully, because the entire block would’ve gone up, but a demon had definitely set it. A stupid demon with idiot tendencies, which made Drinod the first one to pop into Davyn’s head. But why? To kill a few more humans? Listen to a few more screams?
“I got a question for you, puppet,” he growled. “Do you want to die?” He already regretted making the deal. Demons didn’t play by many rules, but that one was a biggie, the only kind of integrity his race had and the only time they could be trusted. Whether the deal was for a soul or the last piece of cake didn’t matter—if a demon made a deal, a demon kept a deal.
But …if she decided going after Lamere was more trouble than it was worth or if she died before she could claim her end of it, all would be good. And fortunately, Davyn had never agreed to not kill her himself. “Because I’d be happy to help you out with that.”
She didn’t turn away from the fire, mesmerized. “A girl was killed at a bar last night. Sucked dry. I talked to a seer on the cleanup crew. She looked like…like the girl Lamere turned .” Which meant she looked like the hunter, too.
“Then why are you here?”
“That’s where I lived.” She pointed at the inferno. “Until this afternoon. The manager told me a guy came by around midnight last night, looking for me. No one’s ever looked for me. No one. He left me a note.” She shoved a crumpled piece of paper at Davyn.
He unwrinkled it and read:
Chérie,
If you play with fire, you will get burned.
“I should’ve called in a bomb threat or something so they would all leave. I just didn’t think he would…” She swallowed. “I stayed there too long. I should’ve moved so he couldn’t find me. Then…”
“Again I ask: Why are you here now?”
She didn’t respond.
Davyn wasn’t used to being ignored. “Okay, I appreciate that you’ve accepted yourself as bait, but the being-stupid thing needs to stop.” He grabbed her by the jacket and tugged her backwards, deeper into the alley, where it was darker and cooler. She ducked and pivoted, slipping out of the jacket entirely and backing up. Her eyes connected with his and stayed with him. Good.
She needed a push. Remorse and self-pity were way more damaging to the soul than fire ever would be.
“Talk to me, puppet.”
“I thought you didn’t like it when I spoke.”
“See that pretty fire over there?” he asked. “I didn’t set it.”
“I know. He did. Lamere and his demon.” She didn’t look for a way out, but he knew it wasn’t because she was overconfident, which she was. It was because she’d already blocked-out probably a dozen different ways to get out of the alley if she had to.
Smart. If he wanted a pet, she would be his first choice. Totally adorable and with a limited lifespan.
“Technically, yeah,” he said. “But realistically, you did. You set that fire and killed all those people the second you decided to act like an idiot.”
“What did you just say?” she shouted, redirecting her self-loathing outward—where it needed to be if she wanted to stay alive. Davyn didn’t give a shit if she died but, until that happened, he couldn’t be tripping over her whaa -it’s-all-my-fault attitude.
“That’s what you were thinking, right? It’s your fault those people are dead, not the psycho who
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