“Yes,” Isadora said, and I could hear something dangerous in her tone, growing in strength as she continued speaking. “When dealing with creatures such as I, virtually anything is better than being a smartass.”
Somewhere along the way, as she’d said that, her claws had emerged from their sheaths. Her wings were spread, now, and I hadn’t even noticed, as I focused on her face and her words.
Wait, what? I’d upset her?
My confusion must have registered on my face, because Diana felt compelled to give me an answer. “Her mother was Phix, the original Greek sphinx. ‘Man’ wasn’t the real answer, but it does serve as a reminder that the myth traditionally ends with Phix dying.”
Ah, balls.
“If I hadn’t asked for your thoughts, I would have torn you apart, hearing that come out of your mouth,” she said. “I remain tempted.”
Double balls.
“I’m genuinely sorry,” I said, as soon as I thought I could talk without interrupting her. “No offense or disrespect was intended. Considering that you just tried to manipulate me into a situation where you could kill me, I think you’re pretty damn cool, as Others go.”
I watched her expression, watched the tension in her lower body, the individual claws on her paws flexing, as if her body was telling the story of how much she wanted to tear me apart.
“Flattery is cheap, morsel,” she said.
“But it’s affected you nonetheless?” Diana asked, sounding entirely too cavalier, given the situation.
Slowly, with a note of deliberateness and attention to drama, Isadora folded her wings and sheathed her claws. I saw her tap one paw against the snow, as if thinking. “Yes, I suppose it has. I like him, this Blake. Sharp enough to be interesting. Reckless enough to be potential food. I would not object to having him around.”
“I wouldn’t either,” Diana said.
Conquest glanced at Jeremy, the drunk.
“I abstained,” he said.
“An informal response, then,” Diana said.
“I abstained for a reason,” he said.
“What reason?” Isadora asked.
I saw him roll his eyes.
“Why should your fat fuck of a god care?” she asked.
God?
“I care, as a matter of fact,” Jeremy said. “This Blake hasn’t given us any straight answers. He’s clever, but we don’t know where he got his power, do we? He’s the lowest value power and the highest, in Dexter’s hemisphere. You don’t find that curious?”
“Tarot was never my thing,” Diana said.
“I think our boy here has a story, and I think madam professor isn’t paying it any mind because she likes his mind. And you, astrologer, are into him because you’re a cougar and you like his body.”
“Cougars are generally older women,” Diana said.
“Your point being?” Jeremy asked. Two of his attendants giggled at the jab.
“Can we return to the days when you ignored us and we could ignore you?” Diana asked.
“Soon enough. But I’d like to have some answers, first. I have reason to suspect he is not what he appears to be.”
Conquest shifted in his seat, leaning forward. His slaves, chained up at his feet, looked up at me with eyes that were just as painted. An extension of him.
“He has wounds on his hands,” Conquest said. “As a man, he is diminished, hollow. A woman stands behind the throne, in his architecture of the self.”
“Duality,” Isadora said.
Okay, now I was in the middle of very unfriendly territory with two, maybe three powers I really didn’t want to be on the wrong side of.
“Yes, I am inclined to agree with you, Dionysian,” the Lord of Toronto said.
Dionysian? Dionysus… right. God. Greek or Roman, I was horrible at telling the difference between the two, and I was a little too freaked out to take the time to figure it out.
“We could interrogate him,” Jeremy said. “Or, if you wanted to be especially pointed about it, we could have Isadora interrogate him.”
I watched Isadora’s claws come out. “I do not exist at your bidding, drunkard, and I do not, especially, exist to be the pawn in your god’s schemes.”
“But,” the Lord of Toronto said, “If I requested it, you would be the pawn in mine.”
I saw Isadora smile, but it was a very dangerous sort of smile. The sort of smile that would be on a person’s face while they pulled a man’s guts out from a hole in his stomach, if they were the type of person who really enjoyed pulling guts out of stomachs. “We were getting along so well these past few years, my Lord. It would be a shame to spoil that.”
Okay, fuck. Now I was in the middle of something.
Could I use that?
Probably.
My instinct was to set them against one another, as I’d tried to do in Jacob’s Bell. But, thinking two or three steps ahead, I couldn’t envision many situations where that worked out to my benefit. Looking one step ahead, I could envision a few scenarios where it didn’t work out at all.
So, the question in the end was whether I should use that.
No, probably not.
But what were my other options?
“Let’s not fight,” I said. “I’ve already come to like a couple of you, and I respect… I suppose I respect all of you.”
Their eyes fell on me.
I swallowed. Have to keep control of the situation, because chaos and infighting is not to my advantage when so many of the combatants are this powerful.
“I’ll try to answer your questions,” I said. “Can’t promise I’ll give an answer to all of them, but you can try to figure me out before you come to blows.”
“The newest member of the family is upset because mommy and daddy are fighting,” Diana said. “It’s darling.”
“We have little spats all the time,” Isadora said. “But most of us on this hilltop predate the invention of paper. We’re not about to jeopardize that, much less over you, no offense.”
I was a little offended, but okay. I looked at Conquest, but he was stone still. Unreadable.
“Okay,” I said.
“Now, earlier, you posed a riddle for me. A place with circles and covens, where could you possibly be from, hm?”
I would have answered, to distract and divert, but she’d phrased it as a question.
“Jacob’s Bell,” the sphinx said.
“I see a connection,” Diana said, sing-song. In a more normal voice, she said, “Hidden by glamour, even. I do think you’re right.”
“Which opens the way for another riddle,” the sphinx said. “Where did you pick up the practice? A place like that, the circles hold tight to their power. Are you a refugee from the goblin’s festival of blood? Easy to imagine a practitioner who wandered that way might have lost their belongings.”
“No connections,” Diana observed.
I looked over the group. Saw the drunk leaning back, murmuring something to one of his attractive companions. When he looked at me, he looked just a little bit pleased.
This shit was all intentional. He knew who I was, or he had some idea. He was throwing me to the wolves without getting directly involved.
And these bastards were big wolves.
“Something else,” the sphinx said. “Too refined to be self taught. Crone Mara wouldn’t teach him, as amusing as he is…”