“I wasn’t, until that crazy-ass demon attacked me,” I shot back. “I was doing exactly what I told you I’d planned on doing—seeing if I could get through under my own steam once I’d absorbed enough power. I’d come pretty close on my previous attempt, so I figured I’d try it with my bag to see if I could get inanimate objects through with me.”
Nigellus raised a brow. “How lucky that you were also carrying salt on your person at the time.”
Oh, right. Forgot about that part. Oops.
I brazened it out, scoffing. “Hardly luck. I’d been keeping salt with me ever since Myrial started getting pushy with my father. I used to carry pepper spray with me when I had to walk home from the bus stop after working late shifts in St. Louis, too. What’s your point?”
See? I was getting better at this lying thing. Maybe I’d just needed more practice.
“We’re rather straying from the point,” Rans put in. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet up to this point, bringing home how rattled he must be by the situation. “Hell was not the safe haven it was intended to be, and now both Zorah and her father are in Myrial’s crosshairs. I assume that’s why you traveled across an ocean to whisk us away to safety in a warded house, Nigellus.”
“And where exactly are we, anyway?” I added—pausing to take the glass Edward brought me.
Surprisingly, he was the one to answer. “A vineyard outside Vallecito, California, Miss. It backs up to Wolf Creek.”
“And Vallecito is...” I prompted.
“In Calaveras County,” Edward said.
I blinked. “Okay...” My gaze fell on Nigellus again. “Seriously? Do you have any clue how much of a pain it was for me to get to the UK in the first place? And now you’ve dragged me right back where I started from!”
He shook his head in irritation. “Myrial—and anyone else looking for you—could have tracked you to York as easily as I did. Here, you’re protected behind the house wards until you can both be personally warded. It’s clear I may be needed in Hell soon anyway, so it seemed a logical solution... albeit a temporary one.”
Rans let his bag fall to the floor, and waved away the drink Edward offered. “There’s evidence that Myrial may be actively attempting to shatter the Fae treaty,” he said.
Nigellus took a glass of something amber-colored from the tray Edward was holding and threw it back in one go with an angry flick of the wrist. “Myrial’s indiscretion occurred nearly half a century ago, Ransley. She fell in love with a human, and that seldom ends well.”
Myrial herself had tried to feed me that line once before, and it pissed me off just as much the second time around. “I think demons must have a very different definition of that word than humans do,” I bit out. “But that’s not what Rans is talking about.”
“Myrial tracked us down at a club in St. Louis,” Rans said evenly, “and within minutes we were the victim of a coordinated attack by humans who were immune to my mesmeric influence, and also armed with silver weapons. Not salt, Nigellus... silver.”
The demon... actually looked taken aback. It was not an expression I’d ever seen him wear before.
“Silver?” he echoed. “How certain of that are you?”
My temper snapped. “Considering we had to cut three silver bullets out of Rans’ back—including one that was inches from his heart—we’re pretty fucking certain.”
Nigellus’ expression closed off. “That is... unwelcome news, if true.”
“Yeah?” I snapped. “Well, it wasn’t a cakewalk for us, either. An innocent woman died in that attack. And Myrial could barely be bothered to stop polishing her nails while the rest of us were fighting for our lives!”
“You need to consider the possibility that you have a traitor within Hell’s echelons,” Rans said coldly. “Whether it’s merely one individual or a group.”
Betrayal. There seems to be a lot of that going around these days, I thought grimly, still glaring at the demon in front of me.
But Nigellus had already regained his usual aura of detached coolness. “I will take it under advisement, Ransley. Now, though, perhaps you should both settle in. Once you’ve done so, we can speak further in the library.”
I chugged my spiked lemonade, wondering if I should have asked Edward to make it a triple rather than a double. Was that even a thing? I sighed, setting the glass aside on a nearby table, and followed along behind the butler, Rans at my side. Edward took us to a stylish bedroom done up in white and chrome, with accents in red, black, and dove gray. Once we were settled in, he gave us directions to the library where Nigellus would presumably be waiting for us, and left us to it.
I dumped my luggage on a chair near the bed and turned on Rans. “I’m not letting Nigellus get you alone.”
The look he flashed me was jaded. He lifted a finger to his lips and I frowned, the expression deepening as he said, “Now, love... no need to overreact. He might have known about Myrial being your grandfather, but it’s obvious enough that he didn’t know about the attack at the club.” As he spoke, he rummaged in the bedside table and came up with a pen and notepad.
What? I mouthed the word at him, wondering if he suspected the room of being bugged.
He jotted down a short note and turned it so I could see. His handwriting was atrocious, a fact I might have found funny under other circumstances. I deciphered it well enough to read, ‘Demons have excellent hearing,’ and nodded my understanding.
‘We need him,’ Rans wrote. I knew my scowl must look positively thunderous, but I nodded again, because he wasn’t wrong. He handed me the pen
