Into the Fire Page 26

“Perhaps because long ago, someone killed Cain and all those loyal to him,” Ashael nearly purred.

“We’re not here to debate the vampire creation story,” Vlad said shortly. “If your kind invented magic, then breaking any spell should be well within your purview, yes?”

The demon gave a careless shrug. “Perhaps.”

I narrowed my gaze. Ian had said that demons were always in the market for a profitable bargain. Did Ashael truly not know the answer? Or was he only acting unsure in order to increase our desperation and thus increase his fee? I’d seen that negotiation tactic before from my old carnie pawnbroker pal.

Vlad had seen it before, too. He smiled at Ashael as if this situation didn’t have life-or-death stakes. “Leila has a spell on her, as you have clearly seen. I want it broken. Can you do it, or do I take my embarrassment of riches, as Ian called them, elsewhere?”

Ashael rose, coming over to me. Vlad didn’t stop him when the demon reached for me, but his aura crackled with anger. Maybe that’s why the demon didn’t touch me. Instead, he ran his hand over the space right in front of me.

“This spell isn’t bound by an inanimate object like most are,” Ashael said. He sounded surprised, and a furrow appeared between his brows. “It’s bound to another person. I see both vampire and sorcerer traces here . . . no, wait. More than a sorcerer. The vampire you’re bound to is a necromancer.”

I stifled my gasp. We hadn’t told Ashael that. We hadn’t even told Ian that. How had the demon figured it out?

“Yes,” Vlad said, displaying none of the surprise I felt. “And as I said, I want the spell broken.”

Ashael dropped his hand and his eyes glittered red. He also lost his cool, debonair demeanor and suddenly seemed annoyed. “The only sure way to break this type of spell is to kill the necromancer who cast it.”

“We can’t,” Vlad replied tightly. “It would kill her, too.”

“That would also work,” the demon muttered.

Flames flashed all around Vlad, so sudden and quick, it was as if his aura had caught fire. Just as fast, those flames disappeared. “Are you mocking me?”

“Are you threatening me?” Ashael shot back.

The temperature on the roof spiked about thirty degrees, and the new heat wasn’t coming from Vlad. I tensed. The demon had said that fire was mother’s milk to his kind. What if Vlad wasn’t the only one on this roof who was pyrokinetic?

Ian stepped between them. “Come now,” he said in a cajoling way. “This situation could still make one of you very happy and the other very rich, so let’s save the violence for later, hmm?”

Vlad’s gaze never left the demon’s face. Ashael didn’t move, either, but the temperature began to drop back down to normal levels.

“You see how much this means to me,” Vlad finally said. “Is there truly no other way to break this spell?”

Ashael’s gaze gleamed. “There is one way . . .”

“No,” Ian interrupted. “Not that—”

Vlad’s hand shot out, crushing Ian’s throat to cut him off. “You were saying, Ashael?”

“A simple sale,” the demon replied in a much lighter tone. “Your soul in exchange for Leila’s freedom from the spell.”

“Fuck no,” I burst out, grabbing Vlad’s arm. “Don’t even think of it! I swear I will silver myself in the heart if you do. I mean it! You make that deal and I will take myself out, so you wouldn’t be saving me. You’d be guaranteeing my death!”

Fear had me sucking in breaths to get the words out before Vlad could agree to something so awful, and my grip on his arm was so fierce, I’d dug my fingers an inch into his flesh. “I mean it,” I said again.

Vlad let go of Ian, who garbled out, “’razy ungrateful ’astard . . .” as soon as he could speak. Then Vlad finally broke his staring contest with the demon, but I couldn’t read the look he gave me. Was that anger? Frustration? Amusement? All three?

“I wasn’t going to say yes, Leila. We’re not there yet.” When I opened my mouth at the ominous “yet,” he pressed a finger to my lips. “I heard your warning, and I believe you. Ashael,” he said, turning back to the demon. “If that’s all you have to offer, then I decline.”

“Are you certain?” Ashael said, his smooth tone deepening with promise. “You don’t know the power that such oaths unleash. I could have Leila freed before the next tick of the clock.”

“No means no,” I snapped, furious at his continued attempts to damn Vlad. “Go soul-scrounge somewhere else!”

The demon’s eyes flashed red again. “Scrounge?”

“That was rude,” Ian said, shooting an accusing look at me. “Not right for her to insult you simply because of your species. Would she criticize a lion because it eats gazelles? No, because it’s a bloody lion and eating gazelles is what they do, just like making soul contracts are what demons do.”

“The bigotry does get wearisome,” Ashael agreed. “And demons don’t scrounge, we negotiate. There’s a vast difference.”

I had so much to say to that, but I clamped my mouth shut. “If we’re done here?” Vlad said, trailing off with meaning.

Ian elbowed Ashael in a companionable way. “I doubt it. Since you can’t get the real prize you’re after, you’re going to drive up the monetary price on your services, aren’t you?” When the demon hesitated, Ian chortled. “Crafty bugger, I knew it! It’s why I so admire your kind. I’d tack on an insult surcharge, too. Teach her to mind her mouth.”

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