Page 27 of Demon's Bane

“And you?” Joan asks. “Do you share his line of work?”

I shake my head, shame climbing up the back of my throat. “I… did not. At least not until recently. As a youth, I left our village in search of something else, of a world wider than the one I was born into.” I swallow harshly, dredging my next words up from the small, shameful place I’ve carried them this past year. “I was not there when my father died. The healers told my mother and sister there was something wrong with his heart, some defect that had been there his entire life.”

I lapse into silence, unable to continue. My grief and regret still have the power to steal the breath from my lungs, to leave me silent in their wake.

“So you came home,” Joan murmurs, and a moment later I feel the soft grasp of her hand on mine as she reaches across the space between us.

Just like it did when she touched me earlier in her shop, the small point of contact brings a warm crackle of magick with it. Duller than I imagine it might be without the glamour, but enough to loosen my tongue and lift some of the heaviness from my chest.

“So I came home. And then I volunteered to come to this realm and do what I can to put a stop to the thefts and get some measure of justice. I cannot replace the years I was not there for my family, but I will do everything in my power to help them now.”

There are other layers to my regret and my failure as a son, other reasons it’s so important for me to be here now, fixing things, but I seem to have said enough for Joan to understand.

Her deep brown eyes are filled with soft sympathy as they scan back and forth across my face, and even when she finally draws her hand away, I can still feel the warmth of her lingering on my skin.

What I wouldn’t give to take this damned glamour off. My hand twitches and my gut twists uncomfortably, like even my body knows it’s wrong to be sitting here disguised, sharing these truths with my mate, taking some of hers in return and hoarding them like precious gems.

But she’s asked me to keep it on, and as much as I’ve already imposed on her hospitality, I won’t ignore that request.

“So,” I say instead of ripping the ring off like I’d like to. “It’s important to me to be here. I owe that much and more to my family and everyone else back in my village.”

She nods. “Yeah, I get that. And I think Seren’s a good bet. She’ll be able to find out what we want to know.”

The gnawing pain in my gut grows heavier.

Finding Seren so quickly has put a looming clock ticking over it all, less time than I anticipated to sort all of this out.

But neither Joan nor I are going anywhere tonight.

As I study her in the dim glow of the kitchen lights and take in the exhaustion on her face, the understanding, the sympathy, I can’t help but feel grateful for that reprieve, at least.

A few more days, perhaps weeks, if it turns out the thief or thieves were exceptionally good at covering their tracks. More time to get to know Joan, to coax her out from behind those walls, to show my mate I’m not the surly, growling creature I’ve been acting like for the past few days.

“I should go get ready for bed,” Joan murmurs. “Early morning tomorrow.”

Late night tonight. Early morning tomorrow. And I’ve kept her up even later than need be.

“You should,” I agree. “You deserve rest, with how hard you work.”

Joan laughs softly as she slides off her stool. “I’ll try to remember that.”

She stops briefly in the living room to give her creature a scratch behind the ears where he’s been sleeping on the back of the couch the entire time, ignoring us completely. When it’s clear he has no interest in anything but sleep, she leans down and kisses the top of his head before continuing toward the hall.

I watch her go, at least until she seems to remember something else.

“Oh,” she says, turning back to face me. “I should also tell you, since we’re kind of roomies for the time being, I’ll be gone tomorrow afternoon.”

“Gone where?”

A shadow crosses her face before she’s able to cover it with a bland smile. “Just, gone. I don’t know when exactly I’ll be back, but it’ll probably be late.”

And then she turns to go for real, leaving me staring after her, wondering what else might be lurking behind all those walls of hers.

7

Joan

The memory of my conversation with Rhett keeps me company all the way upstate.

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