His own bag hanging from a shoulder, Rans held a hand out to me. I took it, giving his fingers a solid squeeze. I could only imagine what he must be feeling right now—facing his friend and mentor for the first time after learning the truth, but unable to voice the knowledge. Nigellus wasted no time before grabbing each of us by the upper arms. I braced myself as reality went dark around me.
The cool humidity of York gave way to bright light and dry heat. That blazing sun was almost directly overhead, too. It had been early evening in York; a quick round of mental math told me we must be in America somewhere, and the weather argued for the Southwest. In fact, the weather felt surprisingly familiar to me.
“Wait. Is this California again?” I asked on a hunch.
Nigellus let our arms drop. He turned, biting out a low curse as he wavered on his feet. I saw Rans start to raise a hand as though to steady him, only to abort the movement and clench his fist at his side.
“It is, yes,” Nigellus confirmed, once he’d locked his knees and straightened his spine. “Questions after we’re inside, if you don’t mind.”
Inside? I glanced around at the rural landscape, taking in dry grass and rolling hills broken by neat lines of arbors. We were somewhere in wine country, at a guess.
“Uhh...” I began.
“Look with your demon senses, not your eyes,” Rans said quietly, even as Nigellus strode off in the direction that my mind didn’t want to pay attention to.
I tried to cast outward with my magical core, the way I did when I was reading animus trails from a crowd. There was something there, but it wasn’t until a door opened, revealing Edward framed inside, that I registered the house standing not thirty feet away.
“What the actual fuck?” I asked faintly, blinking at the structure’s modern, elegant lines.
“The house is warded,” Rans said. “It’s demon magic—probably Edward’s doing. He was always a deft hand at this sort of thing.”
I filed that away for later consideration, since I was still hung up on the whole ‘invisible house’ thing. “Right. Okay. Invisible house. No problem.”
The demon-bound butler was gesturing us toward the door. When we were close enough, he called, “Zorah Bright... Ransley Thorpe... enter and be welcome!”
“We’ll be able to cross the threshold now,” Rans explained.
I nodded, traversing the stone walkway and steps that I’d somehow completely failed to notice earlier. “Hi, Edward,” I managed weakly. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hello, Miss,” Edward said, his tone kind even though his expression held a hint of tension. He ushered the three of us inside and closed the door behind us, running a critical eye over Nigellus. “I did try to tell you to take a plane in one direction at least, sir.”
The demon waved him off brusquely, but it was true this was the first time I’d ever seen Nigellus looking anything but self-possessed and debonair. He recovered himself before my eyes, though, straightening and looking down his nose at his aged servant.
“And I reminded you that time was of the essence,” he shot back.
It took me a minute to puzzle out the exchange, but then I remembered. “Hang on. I thought you told me demons couldn’t teleport across wide expanses of saltwater,” I said. “What... doesn’t the Atlantic Ocean qualify?”
Nigellus spared me a glance. “I said we find it difficult. I didn’t say it was impossible. Enough of these inconsequentialities—we have important matters to discuss.”
Edward sighed. “I’ll go make the drinks, then. Spiked or unspiked lemonade this time, Miss?”
“Spiked,” I said, because hello. Talk about a no-brainer. “In fact, you’d better make it a double.”
Edward gave me an ironic little nod. I tried not to worry about whether my undeniable affection for the old guy was going to end up being a problem. With luck, he was merely an innocent bystander to Nigellus’ scheming... or possibly even another victim of it. I simply couldn’t imagine him being on board with what his demon master had been doing to Rans all these years.
Speaking of which...
Ignoring Rans’ cautioning look, I spun to face Nigellus. Maybe I couldn’t lay into him like I wanted to, but there was one subject that wasn’t off limits.
“All right,” I began in a hard tone. “Time for answers. What happened to ‘Hell is the safest place for you?’ Because I arranged to have my father sent there in good faith, but then I had to find out on my own that Myrial was the asshole incubus who got my grandmother pregnant? What the fuck, Nigellus?”
“Perhaps you’d first care to tell me what, precisely, Myrial did or said that led to your... confrontation?” Nigellus asked, already back to his normal intimidating self.
But I wasn’t having it this time. “No—enough with the deflection. How about you give a straight answer to a straight question for once? Why didn’t you warn me ahead of time about who Myrial was?”
His expression was about as readable as the freakin’ Sphinx. “Demons hold a great many confidences, Zorah. It was hardly my place to disclose another individual’s private information—particularly regarding such a sensitive matter.”
“So you did know about it beforehand,” I confirmed, unsurprised. “Well, thanks for nothing, in that case, because not only did I spend half my time in Hell fending Myrial off from trying to bind my father’s soul; I also nearly ended up trapped inside the gate between realms after she drained my animus. God only knows what she might try to do to Dad now that I’m not there to look after him!”
Rather than appearing bothered by my words, Nigellus looked at me shrewdly. “One might wonder why you were in such a hurry to leave, if you were so concerned about your father’s safety in your absence.”
I
