Chapter 50 Theron
THERON
Elowen turns on me as soon as the demon leaves the room.
“Why wouldn’t you tell him our names? That was rude when he’d already given us his!”
“I didn’t give him our names because he might try to use them against us,” I growl. “Demons are treacherous creatures. The less he knows about us, the better.”
“Well, how do you expect him to want to help us if you keep on being rude to him?” she demands. “I’m here to ask him for a favor—for a living coal that never dies! He’s not likely to help us if he dislikes us.”
“He’s already made up his mind if he’ll help us or not,” I tell her. “He probably saw us coming from miles away. Me not giving our names won’t make any difference to him—it’ll just keep us safer.”
From the look on her face, she doesn’t quite believe me, but she lets the subject drop.
“Do you really think he’d try to charge us a toll to leave?” she asks. “I mean, he swore not to—on the grave of his mother.”
“Since when do demons have mothers?” I growl.
Her face goes white.
“Goddess, you’re right.” She looks at me anxiously. “Do you think we’re in danger?”
“Fuck yes, I think we’re in danger,” I tell her. “But if he tries to keep us here, I’ll Shift into my Drake and break a hole in the side of his fucking house. I wouldn’t have let us come in here if I didn’t know I could get us out again,” I add.
Elowen looks a little less frightened—but only a little.
I wish I could put my arm around her and draw her close to comfort her, but there’s still a wall of distance between us—a wall I put there myself.
After almost a week of keeping my distance, I want her nearly as much as she wants me and I’m not even cursed like she is.
If I dared to get too close, I might lose control of both myself and my Drake.
Speaking of my Drake, he’s not happy with the way I’m treating Elowen.
“Touch her…comfort her,” he urges.
I can’t—you know I can’t.
“If you would just let us Bond her, we would all feel better,” he growls.
It occurs to me that he’s becoming more articulate by the day.
All my life I’ve been ashamed of having an Ash Drake—being tied to a mindless creature with limited intelligence and no capacity for reason or speech.
But is he an Ash Drake? He hasn’t been acting like that lately.
He’s so different but I’ve barely noticed because I’ve been so focused on Elowen. He—
The door opens again, cutting off my thoughts. Salazar comes back, pushing a silver cart with three chilled glasses heaped high with fruity frozen sorbet.
“Well now, let’s all have some refreshments, shall we?” he purrs, smiling at both of us.
The fucker—I don’t trust him. But Elowen is looking longingly at the chilled glasses. I know she must be thirsty after we traveled through the wastelands, but I don’t want her taking a risk. I open my mouth to refuse, but Salazar beats me to it.
“Before you ask, I am offering these drinks to you freely with absolutely no obligation,” he says, offering Elowen and me each a frosted cup. “Please consider this a gift with no strings attached from me to you.”
Elowen takes the cup but doesn’t take a sip until I relent and take a sip myself. I have to admit it’s delicious—sweet and tart and icy cold. It’s a mixture of lemon and raspberry and very refreshing.
The demon settles with his own cup, which sizzles faintly against his palm. He takes a sip—more sizzling sounds—and sighs in apparent pleasure.
“Ah—so refreshing!” he remarks. “So, what can I do for you, my dear priestess?” he says, addressing Elowen.
“Oh, um…” She puts her drink down on the small side table beside the arm of the couch and looks at Salazar earnestly. “I guess I’ll just ask you—I’m gathering elements for a Time Weaving spell.”
“A Time Weaving?” He raises his eyebrows. “Whatever for?”
“There’s something in the past I need to fix,” Elowen says, looking guarded. “I have three of the elements I need but there’s just one more…I need a living coal that never dies.”
“Ah…you mean like this?” Salazar reaches into his hair—which looks like a flaming mass of curls—and pulls out a glowing, cherry red coal about as big around as a large coin. He holds it out to Elowen on his palm.
“Oh, thank you!” her eyes light up but when she reaches for it, he pulls it back.
“I’m so glad I can offer what you need, but I fear I cannot give it to you for free, my dear,” he says smoothly. “You see, it is a part of me—a vital part, in fact—so I must have some kind of payment for it to make up for what I will be lacking.”
“But…we don’t have any money,” Elowen says. “I’m just a poor priestess.”
“I could do some smithing for you, if you need anything repaired,” I say. But inside, I already know he’s going to refuse my offer. It isn’t work or money that a demon wants in return for a favor.
It’s pain.
Sure enough, Salazar shakes his head.
“Alas, I have no need of a smith—I do all my own metal work,” he says. “It’s quite easy when you’re basically made of fire.” He smiles charmingly—the fucker.
“All right,” I say, not even trying to keep the growl out of my voice. “What do you want?”
Salazar replaces the coal, which integrates seamlessly into his hair again. He leans forward, elbows on his knees and stares at us intently.
“What is it you’re most afraid of?” he asks.
Which is not a fucking answer.
“Why…why do you want to know that?” Elowen looks worried and I don’t fucking blame her.
“If I give you a piece of myself, I must have something in kind to replace that piece,” Salazar explains patiently. “And since I am a demon, I am made of flame, pain, and fear. I assume you don’t want me to hurt you…”
I move to put myself between them and glare at him.
“You’re not laying a single fucking finger on her,” I growl.
“No, of course not.” Salazar smiles at me and this time I see something cruel in his genial expression. “I won’t touch her at all, my dear Drake. You will.”