Her eyes flashed at him. “Don't you fucking dare call me sweetheart,” she hissed. “Get your hands off me and get out of my goddamn house!"

"No.” You're not Malik, I'm not bound to obey you. And if I leave you alone, you'll get yourself killed. “I'll make you a deal, librarian. You help me find my Malik and I'll overlook your screwing around with demons. How about it?"

Color began to flood her cheeks. She was even prettier when she was angry, despite her tangled hair and the bruise on her face, which was rapidly starting to look much better. Whatever was in that oily goop was evidently worth its weight in gold. “I don't screw around with demons. I hunt them. Where were you when that octopus thing was eating schoolkids, huh? Well? Where were you? Spying on someone else?"

Schoolkids? The skornac? His hands gentled on her shoulders. She'd actually damn near dislocated one of them and he didn't want to add to the pain. “Wait a second.” Damn, her eyes are pretty. Look at that, her eyebrows are perfect, and when her eyes light up… Keep your mind on your goddamn work, Ryan. “Kids? Octopus—a skornac was taking humans?"

The change that came over her face was alarming. She bit her lower lip and nodded. “I f-found out.” The color started to fade from her cheeks, and he suddenly had the horrible idea that she had indeed gone out and killed a skornac all by her lonesome. The thought managed to turn his knees to jelly. He was glad to be actually on his knees and braced against the couch. “It started with r-rats, and then moved to c-cats and kids. F-five of them. The newspapers thought it was a… a human. I knew better."

"Wait a second. Just hold on one goddamn second. Don't tell me you…” He searched her face. She didn't look half as angry now. As a matter of fact, she looked like a woman reliving a nightmare, and he had the sudden uncharacteristic desire to smooth her hair back from her face and say something soothing.

"I caught a glimpse one night as it took a… a victim. He was n-nine… I bought a knife and researched all the demons I could, and I followed it.” She was ashen instead of pale now, her skin taking on a tint he didn't like one bit. “Then I researched some more, finished consecrating this—” She held up the sheathed knife. It was a long, double-bladed beauty with a plain, high-quality hilt; the blade was a good six inches long, a thin line of glowing blue between the hilt and the sheath. “And I tracked it down by using a dowsing-pendulum. I caught sight of it, it went underground, and I followed it into the sewer and k-killed it."

Ryan let go of her shoulders. He sat down, hard, on the hardwood floor and stared at her. Cold sweat prickled on his back. She's either incredibly fucking lucky or very, very talented. Either way… Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, she killed a skornac. On her own. She should have had a Drakul there to protect her. She should never have been allowed near one of those filthy fucking things, she's lucky to still be alive.

Not to mention that if the skornac had been taking humans, something was very, very wrong here. This was a free city, not policed like a Malik town was, but an uneasy border between the Inkani in the far south and the Malik territories to the colder north. Each enclave of Others here was supposed to operate by its own rules, and the Inkani weren't supposed to spill out into its pressure zone. But this was a keyhole city, and if the Inkani took it they would likely take a large chunk away from the already-stretched-thin Malik.

And the skins would suffer.

He would have to look around and see what was going on. A skornac taking humans could be a freak occurrence, like winning the lottery was a freak occurrence.

Or, far more likely, it was the Inkani, the hellspawn themselves and their human dogs, trying to expand.

If it was the Inkani, she was looking at a very short lifespan indeed without a Drakul's protection. And Paul was either hunkered down somewhere waiting for Ryan to find him, or he was messily, painfully dead.

He stared at her, a small, tangled woman who had flung herself out into the dark alley last night as if she could protect him. A woman who said she had managed to consecrate a Fang, though he was sure she had only found it, since all the Phoenicis were gone. But the knife was evidently new, it wasn't an antique. How could he explain that?

Her wrists were thin, she barely reached his collarbone, and even though she was hell on wheels against a heavy bag, she wouldn't have a chance in hell against a combat-trained Malik, let alone even a small demon.

"You need to get out of my house,” she said finally, as he stared at her, his jaw suspiciously loose. “I don't like being spied on and lied to.” Her chin lifted stubbornly, and Ryan realized he was in very deep trouble. The thought of her facing down a skornac made the inside of his chest feel curiously leaden and cold.

Come on, Ryan. Use that tongue of yours for something constructive. What would Paul say? “I was just being cautious, not spying on you. You know all about being cautious, sweetheart. You played your cards so well Paul doubted you had anything to do with the missing books. You found Melwyn Evrard Halston's library, didn't you? And once you figured out what it was and that it was for real, you didn't tell anyone. You just quietly went about making some ritual implements and went chasing after a fucking class-3 demon. That wasn't very cautious, but females get a little impulsive, I'm told.” Whoops. That didn't come out right. “Imagine you didn't know about any of this. What would you have said if Paul came up to you and announced he was a demon hunter and suspected you of knowing about a cache? If you didn't laugh at him you'd call the cops and have him hauled to the funny farm, if they could catch him. We had to be sure.” Not to mention the fact that killing that skornac's made you a target. If we found you, the Inkani can find you too. If they find you you're dead. And I'll be damned before I let that happen. “You made a lot of noise and mess killing that thing, and you've attracted a lot of attention. Like it or not, you need me."

That gave her chin an even more defiant tilt. The ashen tone to her cheeks was going away, thank God, and he was beginning to recover from the feeling of being punched in the gut.

Beginning to. Thinking of what the Inkani would do to her made the feeling threaten to come back. “I don't need you,” she informed him haughtily. “I'm doing just fine on my own. And quit calling me that. You may address me as Ms. Barnes."

Keep dreaming, sweetheart. You're only doing fine on your own because nobody's found out about you yet. You've got some damn good protective coloration, but that won't save you. “Look.” He had to work for an even tone. “You don't understand what you've gotten into here. I got that thing away from your window and you helped me kill it. Good. We can make a good team. I have to find my Malik, and I'd hate it if the Inkani got their claws in you. I can teach you how to fight more effectively, and you can do me the honor of trusting me. I won't ask where the goddamn books are.” Besides, if you join the Order, they'll have it out of you sooner or later. You're talented enough they'll cut you some slack.

Especially if Ryan explained it to them the right way. He couldn't lie, but he could shine the most positive light on her actions.

Christ, what are you contemplating? You're can't get emotionally involved with her. You're a Drakul, and they won't even let you do so much as sniff her hair. Keep yourself under control.

Too goddamn late for that. He knew, with miserable certainty, that he had committed a grave sin and allowed himself to get attached. It would be deathly hard to fight his instincts and let her go into the Order, let her be whisked away, vanishing into the Malik. And if they guessed he'd gotten possessive over her…?