“But why hold back?” I couldn’t help asking. “Why make it a stealth operation in the first place? If your goal is to restart the war, what’s stopping you?”
Nigellus looked at me as though I were a moderately promising student in a university course he was teaching, and I’d disappointed him.
“My goal is not to restart the war. I’d have thought my actions to protect you from both Myrial and the Fae would make that rather obvious.” He frowned. “And I bided my time because I thought it might allow Ransley to come around to this course on his own. Think what you like of me, Ms. Bright, but it’s not as though I relish all of this cloak-and-dagger nonsense.”
“Come around to—” Rans echoed in disbelief. “My people were slaughtered, Nigellus—fighting in your bloody war! I’ve been alone for centuries! Yet you somehow believe that I would voluntarily place more innocents in the line of fire, based on your theory about the tithelings and their resistance to Fae magic?”
Nigellus looked rather pointedly past our shoulders, at Guthrie lying insensate on the bed. A chill went through me at the reminder that should he wish it, Nigellus now had access to a newly turned vampire who was not only too weakened by shock to resist him, but also already bound to a demon and therefore technically able to travel in and out of Hell... unlike Rans.
Of course, the demon who’d bound Guthrie’s soul wasn’t exactly what you’d call well disposed toward Nigellus at the moment, seeing as how Nigellus had been instrumental in her recent—and rather humiliating—defeat. How much that fact weighed in our favor was something of an open question.
Nigellus suddenly looked tired, and very, very old. “Eternity is an exceptionally long time, you two. All things are possible with enough patience. Until recently, there was little reason to press the issue.”
“And now?” I asked.
Those ageless eyes pinned mine. “And now, Hell and Dhuinne are conspiring across the battle lines, in an effort to destabilize all three realms to an even greater extent than they already are.”
I thought of Myrial and Caspian scheming to gain power in their respective worlds, and suppressed a shudder.
Rans moved to close the distance between us until his upper arm brushed mine. “Enough of this. Either overpower us and be done with it, or leave. You’re no longer welcome in my presence, Nigellus, and I will fight you with every iota of power I possess if you attempt to take Guthrie to Hell. Beyond that, I have nothing more to say to you.”
I tensed, bracing for the worst, but Nigellus only nodded thoughtfully to himself. His eyes held Rans’ with the weight of eternity behind him, and I couldn’t stop a small shiver of reaction to his power.
“My need for vampire blood does not vanish merely because you are now aware of it,” he said in grim tones. “However, I regret that my actions caused you pain, Ransley. Guard your loved ones well. Likewise, the threat to them has not vanished simply because you no longer care to accept my protection.”
With that, the demon squared his shoulders and vanished out of existence, leaving nothing behind but a faint change in the room’s air pressure. I spun around, checking that he hadn’t somehow spirited Guthrie away behind our backs. He was still there, thankfully—looking wan and exhausted, with a tinge of unhealthy gray beneath his dark complexion.
“Well, shit,” I said in a faint voice.
Next to me, Rans sat rather abruptly on the edge of the mattress, only to slide off its edge a moment later, settling onto the floor next to the bed in a barely controlled heap. He buried his face in one hand, and that hand was shaking.
I let my knees fold beneath the stress of the last few minutes and sat beside him, our shoulders pressed together as we rested our backs against the side of the bed frame. Rans scrubbed his hand over his eyes with a rough stroke up and down before looking up. His blue gaze fixed on the middle distance.
“I suppose I should apologize in advance, in the event that my outburst of pique ends up getting us all killed.” His tone was distracted, and he still wasn’t meeting my eyes.
I brushed fingers over the sharp jut of his jaw, using the touch to guide his attention to me. “Hey. It needed to be said,” I told him. My chest rose and fell on a sharp breath. “Though I have to admit, I didn’t really expect him to just... bail on us like that, afterward.”
Rans frowned. “No. Nor did I. I wasn’t lying... he would have prevailed in whatever form of battle we engaged in—physical or mental. So why abandon his new prize in such a way?”
His eyes flicked over his shoulder to Guthrie, and mine followed. We were silent for a long moment as I mulled the question.
“After the fight with Myrial, he told her to go back to Hell, and that he’d be along shortly to dispute whatever lies she attempted to sell to the demon council,” I said slowly. “Maybe he’s doing exactly that? He knows Myrial is the most immediate danger to us. If she’s tied up with him in Hell, he can ensure she doesn’t make another move against us right away.”
“I suppose so,” Rans allowed, his gaze returning to mine. “Though Myrial isn’t exactly the only threat we’re facing.”
“True. But you’ve been tangling with the Fae for centuries, haven’t you? I think Nigellus trusts you to deal with them on your own.”
He lifted a hand and hooked a wayward spiral of my hair over my ear with gentle affection, though exhaustion still hung over him like a shroud. “Perhaps so,” he said. “Though I feel I should point out that I’m not the one who disabled Caspian and eliminated most of his human henchmen in California yesterday.”
I squirmed a bit, not ready to think about the
