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Arrangement. That was one way of putting it. I had no doubt Tessa was fully aware what sort of relationship we had. “So, um, you don’t hate him anymore?” I asked, frowning. Would I be so forgiving? I sure as hell wasn’t toward Evelyn Stark. Then again, for some reason it had never bothered me until recently that Rhyzkahl had killed my grandmother. I’d somehow assumed that was a failure of character on my part, but now I couldn’t help but wonder—had Rhyzkahl deliberately suppressed thoughts I might have had about my grandmother? He’d sworn not to compel me against my will, but making sure I didn’t think unpleasant thoughts wasn’t “compelling.” The idea left a sour taste in my mouth. I have no proof, I reminded myself. I never knew my grandmother, and she was involved in dangerous practices.
Great. So either I was a cold bitch, or my lover had been playing tricks with my head. Fucking hell, but I sure hoped a third option came along soon.
Tessa didn’t seem to notice my i
“When I was in the void, I…learned things,” she said, nearly whispering, forcing me to strain to hear her. “I don’t think there’s any way to describe it, because it was more a sense of how things are and how they are meant to be rather than any particular nugget of information. But in the time since I woke I’ve been trying to assimilate it all.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug and glanced at me with a wry smile. “And somewhere in there I could not maintain my anger at Rhyzkahl.”
“But why?” I persisted.
“Because what he did was necessary.” She shook her head, seemingly dissatisfied with the answer. “I’m sorry, sweets, it’s difficult to explain.”
“Does that mean you’re all right with me being his summoner?” I asked with a touch of disbelief.
She laughed. “Oh, powers above and below, no! But not because of who he is or what he’s done.”
“Because he’s a demonic lord,” I said.
She hesitated, nodded, an odd expression of dismay and resignation whispering across her features before she smoothed them out and answered me. “That’s as close an answer as I can give you.”
Chapter 11
I remembered to snap the cuff around my wrist before I stepped beyond the wards, thus avoiding being tackled by Eilahn. I knew the syraza was always nearby, but the amazing thing was that I never felt as if I was under any sort of surveillance, and it was remarkably easy to forget about her. As a guardian of someone who was jealous of their privacy, she was perfect.
A wave of queasiness hit me as I drove past a fried chicken stand, and I gritted my teeth against it. Sure, the cuff gave me a great deal of peace of mind, but this constant simmering nausea sucked. If pregnancy and morning sickness were anything like this, I wanted no part of it.
A cold stab of apprehension went through me. I’d been blithely assuming the nausea was because of the cuff. Was I engaging in unhealthy denial? Nausea, check. Mood swings, check. Shiiiiiit. I’d read enough novels where the woman felt sick and seemed somehow oblivious to the co
At the next stoplight I retrieved my phone from my bag, and pulled up the calendar. Since I was on the pill I had a pretty good idea of my cycle. I chewed my lower lip as I looked at the dates. The pill wasn’t infallible; I knew that. And the dates could possibly work out. But it didn’t seem very likely. Still, my gut remained tight as I stopped at a drugstore and bought two pregnancy tests—just to be sure—while praying to any gods willing to listen that I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew. Wouldn’t that set the rumor mill spi
My luck held, and I made my purchases without anyone but the bored checker knowing. Even made it home without puking. But that’s where my tenuous hold on luck failed me. The crunch of gravel came from behind me as I ran up the steps. I turned, my hand on the doorknob.
The dark blue Crown Vic pulled up and parked next to my car. Ryan gave me a smile as he stepped out, and I fought to give the same in return, hyper-aware of the pregnancy tests in my messenger bag. I glanced down to make sure that the zipper on my bag was closed and spied the cuff on my wrist. Shit. I didn’t want Ryan asking about that. He’d worry, or get pissed, or something else I didn’t feel like dealing with. I knew I’d have to tell him at some point…just not right at this moment. Luckily I was inside the wards now. I hurriedly slipped it off, dropped it in the outer pocket of my bag, and shoved the velcro flap down.
The queasy feeling receded as soon as it was off my arm, and I took a deep breath of relief. Okay, maybe not pregnant after all, I thought a little shakily. At least I hoped that was the cause. Still, I pla
I yanked my thoughts away from that topic as Ryan approached. I knew too much about him now. Can he read my thoughts? Even subconsciously? I was pretty darn sure that Rhyzkahl could, which meant that—if Ryan truly was a demonic lord—he might be able to as well. Think of something i
“Hey, Kara,” he said, smile relaxed and easy as he climbed the stairs. No sign on his face that he was picking up any of my stray thoughts. Instead he cocked his head, smile widening. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
I blinked at him, only now realizing he had a pizza box in one hand and a boxed set of DVDs in the other. I grimaced. “Oh, right. You’re going to attempt to turn me into a nerd.”
He laughed. “It’s a gradual process, but I fully intend to wear you down.”
The tension eased out of me. This was familiar ground again. I entered my house and dropped my bag by the desk near the door, nudging it lightly underneath in what I hoped was a casual ma
He didn’t seem to notice anything and moved into what passed for my living room, setting the pizza and DVDs down on the coffee table. Curious, I picked up the DVD box and peered at the cover.
“Seriously?” I said, casting a doubtful look at him. “This spaceship looks like a chicken.”
He gave me a mock scowl. “It’s a beautiful ship.”
“Is this guy trying to look like a cowboy?” I continued, purposely needling him. “A space cowboy?”
Giving a tragic sigh, he snatched the box out of my hand. “Just watch the show.”
I chuckled and plopped onto the couch. “Fine. I’ll watch your space cowboy chicken ship show. But only because you brought pizza.” At least the nausea was pretty much gone.
Ryan shot a glance down the hallway. “Where’s your roommate?”
I shrugged. “She’s around. She doesn’t usually hang out inside. I think she feels closed in or something. Or maybe she just likes giving me space.”
“Ah. Makes sense,” he said, sliding a disc into my DVD player. “I guess it’s an adjustment for you.” He moved to the couch and sat. Friend distance, I noted. Not right next to me, but not on the other end, either. “Have you ever had a roommate?” he asked. “I mean, besides your aunt, which I figure doesn’t count.”
“Had one in college. We pretty much ignored each other.”
Ryan gri
He started the DVD, and we lapsed into comfortable silence while we munched pizza and watched. To my chagrin I found myself intrigued by the premise and the characters, though I didn’t dare admit it. He’d be way too satisfied if I did that.