“Then you should rest for a bit. I’ll keep watch.” He drew breath to protest, but I cut him off. “Look. Here’s the deal. Myrial has a blood tie with me, and a soul-bond with Guthrie. The simple truth is that if she puts her mind to it, she can find us whether we’re here in the penthouse or halfway across the world.”
The lines in Rans’ face etched a little deeper. “An accurate assessment, unfortunately.”
I nodded. “So if Nigellus isn’t keeping Myrial tied up in Hell right now, we’re basically screwed either way. You taking a nap—or not—isn’t going to make much difference. The Fae, on the other hand, have no way of tracking us here that I can see. We teleported in with Nigellus. Even if they have surveillance on the building or something, they wouldn’t know we’re here. The only time you left was to go raid the hospital for blood, and you traveled as mist.”
Some of the tension in Rans’ shoulders eased, and he leaned closer to kiss my forehead. “You’re quite right, love. Very well, then. We’ll take the day to regroup, and come at it with fresh eyes once Guthrie wakes up so we see can what state he’s in.”
Looking up at him, I gave a small nod. “Sounds good. What’s killing me right now is the idea that Nigellus might be trying to talk Myrial around to his side somehow, now that Guthrie’s a vampire. I mean... it was pretty obvious there’s no love lost between the two of them, but with Myrial pulling Guthrie’s strings, it seems like Nigellus might be pretty motivated to cut some kind of a deal with her. She’s got a ton of leverage over Guthrie, and she can also get him in and out of Hell anytime she wants, since he’s bound to her.”
“All true.” Rans straightened away from me, turning to look down at the man on the bed. “In fact, I’ve been thinking quite a bit about the soul-bond aspect, as it pertains to getting Nigellus’ hypothetical vampire army out of Hell so they can actually fight the enemy.”
A connection clicked in place inside my mind. “Oh. So that’s why you looked surprised when Nigellus said that none of the tithelings were demon-bound. They’d have to be at some point, or they’d be fairly useless as a fighting force.”
“Just so,” Rans agreed.
A shiver ran through me as I realized for the first time that Nigellus intended for people I knew personally to end up as undead cannon fodder in his race’s endless conflict with the Fae.
Sharalynn. Li Wei. Fatima. Finn.
Hard on the heels of that thought came another.
“You know, I lived with the tithelings for weeks,” I mused. “And the more I think about it, the more unsuited they seem to becoming an army. They’re basically a bunch of friggin’ eco-hippies, for god’s sake. I couldn’t even find anyone willing to spar with me when I was there.”
“Nigellus is known to play the long game,” Rans said. “It comes with immortality, I suppose. But if humanity has proven anything, it’s that propaganda works. With enough time and resources, any group can be convinced to hate any other group.”
I thought of the way many of the tithelings referred to the Fae as ‘the Enemy’ rather than by their proper name. I also remembered the look of disgust on Fatima’s face as she spoke of them. The seeds of abhorrence had already been planted, and my own distaste for the Fae had kept me from seeing it clearly.
“You’re... disturbingly right about that,” I murmured.
“Once that hatred has taken root,” Rans continued, “I suppose it wouldn’t be too difficult to convince the tithelings that accepting demon-bonds so they can leave Hell is in their interest.”
I heaved a sigh. “This whole situation is messed up beyond belief. Seriously—how the fuck is this even my life now?”
The look Rans threw me was sympathetic. “I’m oddly familiar with the feeling, believe it or not.”
I could imagine that, yes, he probably was. All I’d done to attract attention from the supernatural world was to have the temerity to, y’know, be born. All Rans had done was to nearly die of the plague in a medieval village in England. He hadn’t asked for a random vampire to show up and turn him. He certainly hadn’t asked for that same vampire to abandon him immediately afterward, leaving him with no understanding of what had been done to him or what he’d become.
I silently vowed that we wouldn’t allow the same thing to happen to Guthrie.
“Get some sleep,” I told Rans. “There’s a video feed for the penthouse security system in Guthrie‘s office, right? I’ll keep an eye on it while you rest, and I’ll send that email to Vonnie while I’m at it.”
A strong hand cupped my cheek, and I bent willingly into a kiss. Despite the circumstances, I felt my eyes sliding closed as warmth spread down my spine.
“Wake me if anything happens,” he said, after pulling away with a final, soft brush of his lips against mine.
“I will,” I promised, reluctantly leaving the room. Behind me, Rans took up a position sitting next to the door with his back braced against the wall—presumably to make sure Guthrie didn’t wake unexpectedly and get past him while he was resting.
* * *
After sending my untraceable email to Vonnie and getting no immediate response, I spent the day making sure that no Fae were about to sneak past the building’s security measures and pop up to the penthouse unexpectedly. I also ate Guthrie’s food, feeling guilty at first about being such a horrible houseguest, only to feel even worse when it occurred to me that Guthrie would never again have any use for human food.
I cleaned myself up as best I could without leaving my self-imposed security detail for any significant length of time, ducking back to the office to check on things between shampooing my hair and shaving
