Megan didn’t tell her about the discussions she and Greyson had been having lately—the closest thing to arguments they’d ever had—about her practice. “I still have my life.”
“Right. That’s why you were arrested for breaking and entering.”
“It wasn’t breaking and entering, it was trespassing. I didn’t break in.”
Did Tera really not know why Megan had been in that house? Did she really not know about the other demons exploding, about—Megan swallowed—about Gerald?
Somehow she’d managed to forget about Gerald as they wandered the mall. Now the memory rushed back, so vivid and painful Megan had to brace herself against the cheap Formica table to keep from curling up into a ball. Her involvement with the demons had already killed one innocent person, if her instinct about what happened the night before was right. Whatever Greyson said about the inevitability of death or the possibility of accident, something demonic had gotten hold of Gerald, and it was related somehow to her.
“So you were trespassing. Want to tell me why?”
Megan blinked. “Is this an official inquiry?”
“No. The normal police bought your story, so Vergadering isn’t investigating. But I’d like to know. I worry about you, Megan. I’m your friend. Aren’t I?”
“Of course you are.” Megan shrugged. “I was trying to surprise a friend. Someone from the station. I had the wrong house, that’s all.”
Tera’s eyes narrowed. Megan forced herself to look into them and think innocent thoughts. She didn’t want to lie to Tera. Tera knew a lot about a lot of things. She’d worked for Vergadering for a dozen years now, and Megan would have loved to spill it all to her, to tell her about the demon explosions and the assassination attempt and Gerald and see if the witch could make sense of it.
Just having an actual discussion about it would be nice, an opportunity to think out loud to another person. Nobody played their cards as close to the chest as Greyson did, and while Megan was used to it—even liked it, most of the time, because she did the same—there were moments when she wished he was more forthcoming.
But if Greyson was right and it had been witches trying to kill them in that mad car chase…she didn’t want to talk about that with Tera. Couldn’t talk about it with Tera, much as she wanted to try and pick her friend’s brain. If Tera didn’t know anything, it could be awkward, and if she did…that could be even more awkward. Not to mention dangerous.
“I thought you trusted me,” Tera said.
“I do. Tera, what is going on? You don’t usually grill me about this stuff. Aren’t you going to tell me more about Roger or Todd or whoever else you’re dating now who you don’t really like? Or tell me how my top isn’t the right color or something?”
“It’s not. It washes you out.” But she smiled. “I’m sorry. I get a little cranky around the holidays, I guess, and we’ve been hearing some odd—well, I just don’t want to see you get so involved with demons that you forget who and what you are.”
“I’m not forgetting anything.” She glanced up. “What odd things have you been hearing?”
“Oh, nothing. Just that there’s some unrest in the demon world.” Tera was a good liar, but even without being able to read her Megan still knew. It saddened her a little, the same way she imagined her refusal to open up saddened Tera. In the three months they’d been friends, they’d never run into a situation where they really couldn’t discuss something.
“Come on,” she said, getting up. Malleus stood as well, his beefy arms still crossed, his expression grim. His contempt for witches was ingrained, had been ever since he’d been born and named. “You wanted to check that dress shop, right?”
The air between them seemed to clear a bit as they threw away the remains of Tera’s snack and shoved through the crowds. Or rather, Malleus shoved, and they followed in his wake.
“I’m beginning to think I was wrong about him,” Tera murmured. “He’s pretty handy to have in a crowd, isn’t he?”
Malleus’s shoulders twitched, but he said nothing. Megan seized the opportunity and lied, “That’s why he’s here.”
“A favor?”
“Sort of.”
“And how will you be repaying that favor, hmm?”
Megan blushed. Tera laughed and patted her on the shoulder. “Hey, better than—”
“Mr. Brown!” Malleus’s public code name. Who was—
A short, stylish little man threw himself across the shop as they entered. Megan started to jump out of the way, but the broad grin on the man’s face and his outstretched arms stopped her in midjump, turning it into a sort of awkward jerk that made Tera raise her eyebrows.
“Mr. Brown, so good to have you here, I’m so honored! Is Mr. Dante—oh!” His shining eyes lit on Megan. “Dr. Chase, isn’t it?”
Megan nodded, her face burning. She didn’t need to look at Tera to imagine her friend’s expression.
The man reached for her hand, then thought better of it and bowed instead. “Dr. Chase, I’m so pleased—so pleased! Come in, come in, sit down. What would you like today? A dress? A purse, some shoes?”
“I’m just looking,” Megan managed as the little man ushered her through the shop without actually touching her and indicated a padded bench for her to sit on. Tera sat next to her, smirking.
“Nonsense! You don’t need to look, we’ll look for you, you just sit here.”
“You stay here, m’lady,” Malleus added, plunking his weight down on her other side. “You let ’im show you things.”
It was a reminder as much as a genuine desire to see her treated well, she knew. Malleus never forgot whose servant he was and what was expected of him in that capacity. Those rules apparently extended to her. The man now thrusting various garments at her wasn’t a demon, but just the same she didn’t need an interpreter to know what was going on.
It would be an insult not to smile and finger the clothing. It would be an insult not to finally select something and allow the man to box it up for her as carefully as he would the Hope diamond. It would be an insult to try and pay, especially when the little man kept grinning and telling her to remember him to Mr. Dante, to tell Mr. Dante how honored he was that Mr. Dante had sent Dr. Chase to his store and that if Mr. Dante ever wanted anything he shouldn’t hesitate to ask.
Megan finally left the shop with a designer gown, the shop owner’s business card, and a face bright enough to send satellite signals.
Tera smiled beside her. “Sure,” she said. “You’re not getting too wrapped up in the whole demon thing at all, are you?”
The bag with the gown in it banged against her leg like a toddler demanding attention as she walked into her house. She’d managed to have a good time, all things considered, especially when the conversation turned away from her and toward Tera’s various casual dates.
“Hi, Megan.”
The scream died in her throat when she saw Rocturnus lounging on her couch. “Damn it, I’ve asked you not to—”
“You asked me not to jump out at you and I’m not. I’m just sitting here.”
“You scared me.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry, but then demons never did.
She set down the bag and switched on the lamp by the couch. “Where have you been?”
“Checking on everyone.” His beady little eyes shifted. Not a good sign.
“And?”
“And they’re all alive. No more explosions.”
A breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding escaped. “Good.”
“But…maybe you should sit down.”
Megan knew people often told other people to sit down when they had good news for them too. It just hadn’t ever happened to her. There was no point in trying to put a brave face on things as she sat. Rocturnus would be able to feel, taste, and smell her every negative emotion anyway. “Okay, what?”
“Well…some of us aren’t very…happy. About the changes. And about what’s been going on. The deaths.”