“That sounds good,” I said. “You work most evenings, don’t you? When’s your next day off?”

“Saturday.”

I nodded. “Okay. Let’s meet here at seven.”

“Seven it is.” She gave me a swift, assessing look—then sighed. “Robin? Can I offer some advice?”

Nervousness flitted through my gut. “Yes?”

“When someone butts in on you and starts asking questions you’d rather not answer, ‘get the hell out, you nosy asshat’ is a good response.”

I stared at her.

“You should try it,” she suggested.

“Oh.”

“See you on Saturday.” With that, she hopped off the table and breezed out the door, gone as unexpectedly as she’d appeared.

I continued to stare, then slowly stood up. I crossed to the door, closed it tightly, and snapped the lock into place. A faint shimmer passed across the wood as the Arcana seal engaged. Brow furrowed, I turned around.

Zylas leaned against the table, arms folded. “She is not the one who smells like vīsh. The scent is on her but it is weak.”

“So it’s one of the mages,” I mused.

“She lied. ‘Just some research I’m doing for a job.’” His accent vanished as he mimicked Tori’s voice. “Not true.”

“I figured. Did you notice anything else?”

“She smelled of fear and pain.”

I sank onto the stool again. Tori was desperate for answers, and a witch’s interest in demon magic only made sense if it was related to her friends and their secret—the secret that had brought them to the park where Tahēsh had been and sent them running shortly after.

“We need to figure out which mage smells like a demon,” I sighed. “And why.”

Zylas twitched one shoulder in a shrug. “It is imadnul. Not important, drādah. The demon is powerful. Better to stay away.”

“Weren’t you just saying you wanted to go downstairs and smell the mages?”

“I could smell enough vīsh on her to be sure. I thought before maybe this demon is Third House, but he is Second House.”

“Is the Second House worse than the Third?”

“First House and Second House are allies. Their Dīnen are old and strong and smart.” His tail lashed sideways. “More than other Houses, they kill Vh’alyir demons.”

A chill washed over me. “Why?”

“We are weak. They hate us. They call us karkis.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your word … one who betrays?” His face hardened. “They say we are the House that is not summoned, so it is our fault.”

“It’s your fault other demons are summoned? That’s ridiculous!”

“They decided this long ago, and others listened. They kill us everywhere. We have less numbers than the Houses who are summoned by hundreds and hundreds.”

The horror infusing my gut deepened. The other demons were wiping out his House as punishment for what humans were doing? Demon society was blaming the weakest group for their suffering?

“My House is very few now. There are no old demons left to teach the young ones. They will never learn how to be strong.”

“Is that why you need to go home?” I whispered. “So you can teach them?”

“Na, me? They do not want me to teach them. They hate me too.” He straightened, pushing away from the table with the air of someone planning to change the subject. “Drādah, I want to know.”

“Yes?” I asked cautiously.

“What”—he canted his head—“is abs?”

A blush burned through my cheeks. I’d really, really hoped he’d forget about Tori’s comments—except he never forgot anything. “Abs are abdominal muscles … the muscles in your stomach.”

He peered at his taut midriff. “How are muscles perfect?”

“Just ignore what Tori said.”

“But your face changed color when she said it.”

I abandoned my stool—which was much too close to his questioning gaze and perfect abdominals—and hastened over to the bookshelf. “Just forget about it, Zylas.”

Of course, he followed me. “What did she mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Are my abs better than a hh’ainun?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to put clothes on me?”

“No.”

“Why is your face changing color again?”

I grabbed a book about Arcana array calculations off a shelf. “I need to concentrate.”

A long pause. Tension kinked my spine as I waited.

Warm breath brushed over my ear as he leaned in. “Am I perfect, drādah?”

I choked. Ducking away from him, I rushed back to the worktable. Focusing with single-minded determination, I opened the book to its table of contents and tried desperately to remember what I was supposed to be researching.

Zylas’s quiet, husky laugh rolled through the room. Face flaming and teeth gritted, I cursed Tori and her big mouth.

Chapter Four

Bright light stabbed through my eyelids, dragging me from sleep. I drowsily opened my eyes to find sunlight streaming through my drapes. For a moment, I was annoyed that Zylas hadn’t closed them properly after returning from his nighttime wandering—then I realized. Sunlight. In January.

Flinging my blankets off, I scrambled out of bed. Cold air hit my bare arms and legs, my tank top and cotton shorts too thin for warmth, but I ignored the chill as I pulled the drapes away from the window. Blue sky dotted with fluffy clouds formed a cheerful backdrop behind the dreary buildings that surrounded my apartment.

Vancouver winters were mild, but in exchange for the lack of deep-freeze, its citizens had to endure a long season of perpetual overcast. Grinning, I hurried into the living room and threw open the heavy drapes that covered the balcony doors.

The morning sun hit me and I tilted my face into its golden light. Glorious. I couldn’t wait for summer. Reading outside, listening to the breeze in the trees, enjoying the scents of sweet summer flowers and fresh-cut grass …

My happy smile still in place, I turned around. In my rush to the window, I hadn’t noticed the room was already occupied.