I straightened. “Of course I have to go. I live for carnivals. Carnivals and Oreos, but not necessarily in that order.”
I really didn’t live for either, but I needed a drink so bad, I’d started babbling. A mocha latte would hit the spot, but noooooo. I had to be carrying a Beep around. I was never going to survive this whole pregtastic thing.
“I’m going to run a search on this guy,” Ubie said. He stood to leave and Cookie followed suit.
“Okay.” Guilt leached into me once again. He did have a job to do, and this was a lot to lay on an officer of the law. Oh, so yeah, there’s this dead guy on my property, but you can’t tell anyone or investigate or anything. Also I burned my bloody clothes. Does that seem suspicious at all? I was the worst niece ever.
“You realize your sister is coming over in an hour,” Cookie said.
I dropped my forehead into my palm. “I totally forgot. She’s going to kill me.”
“She’s just excited about the wedding and the baby. I’ll call her.”
“Thanks, Cook.”
“And I’ll bring dinner over in a few. You just keep watch over the guys.”
“Will do.”
After they left, I went to check on my affianced. He lay sleeping with his good arm thrown over his forehead. I leaned in to check on his wounds. What little the duct tape didn’t cover was already fusing, his cells merging at an incredible rate to make him whole again. I could only pray the internal damage to his shoulder was doing the same.
I wanted to lie down beside him, to curl him into my arms, but I didn’t want to risk waking him, so I strolled back to my living room and sat on the coffee table near the Dealer so I could check on him. He lay on his back, as did Reyes, a feat that floored me. Their backs had been ripped to shreds. How they were able to get sleep while lying on them was beyond me. His arm, lean and sinewy like Reyes’s, covered most of his face, but I could tell he was awake.
“What’s your name?” I asked him, sipping a cup of water.
“I can’t tell you my real name,” he said without removing his arm.
“Why?”
“Knowing a demon’s real name gives you power over him. I’m surprised you know Rey’aziel’s.”
That was the second time that day I’d heard something along those lines. The priest had said the same thing.
“Well, we are affianced.”
He removed his hand at last, letting it hang over Sophie’s arm. His bronze irises shimmered in the low light as he studied me. There was simply something about him, something alarmingly attractive but not in the usual way. There was nothing sexual about my interest. I just trusted him. I had no idea why, really, but I’d trusted him from the moment I saw him.
“And yet,” he said, gazing at me with the same regard, “Rey’aziel has never told you your real name, has he? So who has more power?”
“I do,” I said, matter-of-fact, completely full of shit.
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Good. You’ll need that confidence in the days to come.” He glanced down at my abdomen. “May I?”
I leaned away warily. “May you what?”
“Feel her?”
Looking down at Beep, I hesitated, then nodded, unsure of what he meant.
He brought his arm around, wincing at the pain it caused, and placed his hand gently on my abdomen. I couldn’t imagine he would feel anything. She was little more than cells. Her heart hadn’t even started to beat yet. But I felt her warmth like a tiny light pulsing inside me.
His lids drifted shut as though the act soothed him, eased his pain. “What’s her name?” he asked, keeping his lids closed.
I glanced over to see if Garrett was awake. He was. He looked on silently as the Dealer, the slave demon from hell who had no reason to help us and yet risked his life to do that very thing, somehow connected with my daughter.
“You show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” I told him.
He grinned, his fingers sliding dangerously close to Virginia, my girlie part. Clearly Beep was lower than I thought. “I’ll tell you what you can call me. How’s that?”
“That’ll work. I looked up your utilities and stuff. They’re all under the name of the guy you rent from. I can’t believe that, despite everything I have to go on, I can’t find a thing about you.”
“I’ve been around a lot longer than you, sugar. I’m careful.”
“I’ll buy that. So what can I call you?”
He finally lifted his lids, his bronze irises feverishly bright when he said, “Osh. You can call me Osh.”
“Osh,” I said, absorbing the name, associating it with the demon who looked like a kid lounging on my sofa. Such an unassuming name for such a dangerous, dangerous boy. “I like it. You got a last name?”
“It’s not my demon name, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Not at all.” I took out my phone. “I just need to know what to put your number under. If anyone found my phone and read ‘The Dealer,’ I could be in trouble.”
He flashed me a brilliant smile. “It’s Villione. It was given to me many centuries ago, after I first arrived on earth.”
I stilled a moment before punching the name into my phone. “Does it stem from what I think it does?”
“A life of debauchery and mayhem?”
“Something like that.”