“Fools can be found in all three realms, Ransley,” said the demon. “Which brings us neatly back to the original topic. You stole from me. I don’t need to tell you what an abuse of trust that was.”
Rans raised an eyebrow. “No. You don’t. And I suppose I don’t need to tell you what a betrayal of our friendship it was when you refused to help Zorah gain access to her father.”
“When I refused...” Nigellus murmured, before shaking his head sharply and continuing in a more normal tone. “And what would you have had me do? Unilaterally threaten hostilities? Barge into Dhuinne myself?”
I sighed. “He’s not really angry at you, Nigellus. He’s angry at me for running off on my own.”
“As it happens, I’m not overly pleased with either of you at the moment,” Rans said.
I narrowed my eyes. “Whereas I’m leaning toward Nigellus’ side of this argument when it comes to the part where you threw away your immortality to save me. But of course, you already knew that.”
“Vampires aren’t immortal,” he said in clipped tones. “As evidenced by the fact that all of them except me are currently dead. At their core, vampires are human. And human beings were never designed to live for centuries.” His gaze returned to the demon, and something in his expression made my throat tighten. “I’m weary of it, Nigellus. I’m weary of outliving everyone. It’s one thing I truly don’t envy you.”
Nigellus’ features grew flat and distant. “It’s the way of things, Ransley. And there are six hundred sixty-five other demons whom I will never outlive.”
Ransley tilted his head, conceding the point. “True. What a pity half of them are arseholes.”
Our host blinked. “Surely that can be said of every species.”
I forced my way through the sudden heaviness in the room and raised a finger. “Hold on. Did you seriously just say that there are six hundred and sixty-six demons?”
He sighed. “Indeed. The Fae have long been masters of propaganda.”
I lowered the finger. “I just meant... that doesn’t seem like very many, for an entire species.”
“Perhaps not,” he allowed, his tone becoming ironic. “But thus has it been since the dawn of time.”
“True immortality changes the calculus considerably,” Rans said.
I supposed it would, at that. But it did make me wonder about our theory—the one Nigellus had so abruptly dismissed. Faced with an enemy’s overwhelming numbers, wouldn’t demons seek some way to increase their population?
“How many Fae are there?” I asked. I’d seen what had appeared to be a good-sized city on Dhuinne, but I had no way of knowing whether the place was unique, or merely one of hundreds of other Fae cities.
Nigellus flicked his fingers carelessly. “The size of their population is not something the Fae advertise to outsiders.”
“But, roughly speaking?” I pressed.
“Based on the numbers of the Tithe and the expected birth rate, perhaps half a million.” His face grew hard, the expression unreadable. “A small fraction of the number that existed before the war, certainly.”
Again, I felt that chill crawl up my spine. Every human instinct said that this man—this demon—was dangerous in the same way that man-eating sharks were dangerous. Yet that small part of me that was cut from the same cloth felt only fascination. The combination made it difficult to stay focused on what was truly important in the conversation.
Edward chose that moment to bustle in, carrying drinks. The elderly butler had helped me in my attempts to contact my father the last time we’d been here, and I tried to summon a smile for him. He smiled back, and gave the room a quick sweep with his rheumy gaze.
“Hello again, Miss,” he greeted. “Since there seems to be a lull in the angry shouting, perhaps you’d all like to have a drink and lubricate your throats for the next round of arguments?”
“Sounds lovely,” I said. “Is that lemonade?”
“It is.” He set the glass down in front of me, and I took it, enjoying the way condensation beaded on the cut crystal. Next came a wine glass full of something red, which he placed in front of Rans. I wasn’t about to ask if the contents consisted of fermented grape juice or hemoglobin. A moment later, Nigellus waved away the shot glass of amber liquid Edward offered him.
“Will our guests be staying for dinner?” Edward asked politely.
“They will,” Nigellus said. “We still have much to discuss.”
“Dinner at seven it is, then,” Edward said. “I believe the rack of lamb is sufficiently thawed to be ready in time.”
“Sounds lovely, Edward,” I said, since Rans and Nigellus were too busy staring each other down. “Thank you for the lemonade.”
His lips quirked. “I can bring you something to spike it with, if you think it would help.”
I gave him a tiny salute with the glass. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
Nigellus shot him a long-suffering look. “No doubt the lamb will require your complete attention, Edward.”
“No doubt it will, sir,” Edward agreed in placid tones.
Once his footsteps on the hardwood floor had faded, I took a sip of my drink. It was delicious. A few more sips, and I was as ready for the next round of angry yelling as I was likely to get. I set the glass down with a decisive clink.
“All right.” I made myself sit up straight and meet Nigellus’ gaze head-on. “So, we all have legitimate grievances here, albeit to varying degrees. But the fact is, what’s done is done. Rans can’t un-steal your crystal, and I can’t un-bond myself with him—assuming the supposedly unbreakable magic really is unbreakable.”
“It is.” The demon’s eyes didn’t waver.
I nodded, accepting it for now. “There are things I can do something about, though—and I intend to. A friend of mine arranged for my father to be shipped from Dhuinne to Hell as part of the Tithe.”
Rans made a choked noise around his drink, making me really hope it wasn’t blood.
“A friend?”
