Ben waited at his house for Sandy to arrive. And she finally did, knocking on his front door. He went to answer it and let the blonde witch inside. She immediately threw her arms around him and kissed him.
He’d had a lot of time to think about what he overheard in Oliver’s office today. It was possible Sandy was being coerced to act that way. It was also possible she was playing along in order to save her own neck. He was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.
“How are you?” he asked very seriously, watching for any telltale sign that she was in distress.
“I’m great.” She smiled brightly. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I guess we’ve both been busy.” Sandy had slept over a couple of nights last week, but this week they’d only seen each other in passing at the Malleus headquarters.
“We need to spend more time with each other.”
“I couldn’t agree more. You sure you’re okay, Sandy?”
She cocked her head. “I honestly can’t say I’ve ever felt better. Things are finally coming together for me, Ben.”
“Glad to hear it.” So far, even with his trained eye, he couldn’t tell if she was being truthful. His gaze moved to her chest. “New necklace?”
She pressed her fingers against the gray pendant hanging on a silver chain. “It’s a witch thing.”
“Haven’t seen it before. It helps you do magic?”
“Something like that.” Her smile widened. “But enough about me. I brought you something.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“Some soup I made special for you. Chicken noodle.”
He took the Tupperware bowl from her. The soup was still warm, filled with chicken, noodles and — according to the conversation he’d heard earlier — a large helping of love potion.
His stomach sank. He’d hoped she wasn’t trying to deceive him, but his confidence was slipping with every moment she stood in front of him with that shiny smile on her face.
Her words from earlier replayed in his head:
He might be noble, stubborn, and boring, but he was far from stupid.
Ben forced a smile and placed it down on the glass table next to his leather couch. “Smells delicious. Thank you. I’ll have it for dinner later.”
She nodded. “Good. Make sure to think of me when you take your first spoonful.”
“I’m always thinking of you, Sandy.”
Her smile widened. “Oh, Ben, what did I do to deserve somebody like you?”
He’d grown very fond of Sandy since he’d first met her, but love was something he didn’t feel for the witch. Especially not at this very moment.
Disappointment and betrayal, yes. Love? No thanks.
“Fate,” he said instead. “It works in mysterious ways.”
She looked back at the door. “I can’t stay, I’ve got so many things to do today.”
“Listen, Sandy, before you go, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“The angel in the basement of the Malleus. He’s still there — it’s been over two weeks now. He has red hair, and his feathers are being plucked daily from his wings. It seems to weaken him. He looks very ill. Do you know what’s going on?”
She cocked her head to the side. “Why would the Malleus imprison an angel?”
“Maybe it’s an evil angel.”
“An evil angel?” she laughed. “I’ve never heard of anything like that before.”
“Well, Eden seems to think her demon is a nice one.” Even saying it aloud made Ben grimace. He had major issues when it came to Darrak and had committed himself to destroying the demon at his earliest convenience. So far it hadn’t been all that convenient. “If that’s true, then maybe it works the other way around.”
“Eden is living in a fantasy world. One that is going to inevitably lead to her death. You know that, I know that, and the Malleus knows that.”
“I still don’t understand why we’re not intervening in that matter more forcefully.”
“Black witches are dangerous.”
He already knew that about Eden from firsthand experience. He’d really prefer to keep his head attached to his body if possible. “But she needs help. Why can’t the Malleus help her?”
“Oliver still wants to know how the celestial energy is affecting the demon. He has a lead on more information. Nothing’s going to be done until he acquires that information. That’s all I can say right now, Ben.”
Everything revolved around that damn demon. “So you don’t know anything about the angel.”
Sandy sighed. “The only prisoner I know about is the shapeshifter we brought in yesterday. And let me tell you, she’s a real bitch to deal with.”
Was she referring to the woman with the almond-shaped eyes and mocha-colored skin who’d glared at him from the shadows of her cell? “A bitch?”
She nodded. “Evil to the core.”
“Yeah?” Bitch, he’d believe. Evil might be a stretch, despite his telling her she probably belonged in a locked room. That unpleasant exchange had stayed with him since he’d walked away from her earlier. “Why do you think she’s evil?”
“She has something to do with Eden Riley and that demon of hers. Oliver thinks the shifter has information that could help the Malleus, but she won’t talk. She refuses to help us.”
“What’s her name?”
Sandy crossed her arms. “She won’t tell us even that. We tried bribing her, but nothing. My magic doesn’t work on shifters to help coax the truth. Tomorrow we’re going to have to get more serious with her. Oliver is going to want you there. He wants to introduce you to the more high level intel extraction methods.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “I’m supposed to be a part of this?”
“You’re involved in the Eden Riley case already. If she talks to you, it won’t be too bad for her.”
Ben watched her carefully. “And you’re okay with that? With these high level intel extraction methods?”
It was a nice, fancy way to describe torture.
She met his serious gaze and he saw nothing in her eyes to indicate any doubt or worry. “It’s all for the greater good, Ben.”
“Right. The greater good.” Ben couldn’t believe he’d felt something for this woman who stood before him. It was as if the curtain had been pulled back from in front of his eyes showing the messy stage behind it. He’d thought Sandy was one of the good guys — one of the best of them all, actually.
But maybe she was just another hammer.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?
He had no friends, no one to confide in. A brand on his arm that still itched, that bound him to an organization he’d quickly come to doubt — one that used medieval methods in modern times to prove their way was the right way. The only way.
Ben wanted to do the right thing. He
But this — it felt wrong to him. So wrong.
“I’ll be there, too,” Sandy assured him. “For moral support.”
“Thanks. I–I appreciate that.”
“Eat your soup. Know that I made it with love in my heart.”
He nodded. “Can’t wait.”
“I’ll call you later.” She went up on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his. Then, with a last flash of a bright smile, she slipped through the front door.
It only took Ben a minute to pour the soup down his garbage disposal.
