Page 88 of Spit

When I stepped into the hallway, and the mansion seemed to rearrange itself around me, I realized it was the house itself urging me forward. That was disconcerting. My shadow was absolutely nonplussed. The opposite of how he usually reacted to the promise of sizable magic like I did when it came to all-you-can-eat sushi. I had no idea what that meant.

The house led me through and unfamiliar path, through winding corridors and a spiral staircase that I had never seen before. I found myself in a much more diminutive lounge in the depths of the property, stopping only when I realized that I probably should have knocked.

The room was deep hunter green, with a roaring fireplace on the far side. The smell of wood smoke and sugar-sweet magic on the air. Legion sat with his back to the door in one of the only two highbacked leather chairs; he stood as soon as he heard the door.

Legion turned to me, flashing a smile I had no business receiving. His hair, usually combed back and tidy, had somehow allowed a single tendril to fall into his eyes—a sign of humanity amongst the flawless demon he portrayed.

“Alexis.” Legion’s dark eyes flashed. “Come, sit. Would like you like a drink?”

My eyes snagged on the vintage globe in between the chairs, an array of different bottles and liquors on offer. “I’ll have a soda,” I said, unable to summon a smile.

“I’ll ring for one.” He said, pulling out of his phone to send a text.

“The joys of having servants.” I raised a brow.

Legion chuffed a laugh. “The perks of being a steward.”

“Sure, sure.” I waved a hand.

“Take a seat.”

“Oh.” I scratched my cheek. “Is this a business meeting?”

“Of sorts. A chance to hear about how you’re feeling. What you’re thinking.”

I crossed the room and took a seat, crossing my legs and pulling my skirt over my thighs, so I didn’t accidentally flash the pride demon. “I’m pissed at you,” I growled.

“At me?” Legion looked up a moment before someone swept into the room a deposited an ice-cold Coke in my hands. I smiled my thanks, and they were gone a moment later. “Why?”

I didn’t meet his eyes. “You walked away from those women. You offered Anna-Risa a space in the coven. You run a women’s refuse in the basement of your mansion—but you didn’t even try to save those women on the machines. All because of a stupid contract.” My fists clenched around the cold can.

“Ah.” His expression was inscrutable.

“Well?” I demanded.

“I couldn’t do anything for those women. That much is true.” Legion admitted. “I am the paragon of demonic law in the Red City.” He took a phone out of his pocket and flashed the screen in my direction. “Would you like me to phone the people I contacted immediately after we left? The people that raided the blood house and took the women out of the city?”

I felt an inch tall. “I didn—”

“You didn’t know.” He finished my thought. “Have you thought about staying in the Red City?” Legion asked, knitting his fingers together in front of him as he leaned forward, interested in what I had to say.

“Stay?” I echoed.

Legion cocked his head to the side. “With Camio deceased and Mars and Quinn indisposed, it seems I am running on a skeleton crew. Trying to control the city, without control of three of the sins.”

“Oh,” I murmured, rolling my can between my palms.

“I would like to offer you a job.”

A shocked laugh burst from my lips. “A job? I have a job. My own business.”

“I can offer you money.” Legion pressed.

“If I was swayed by the money, I wouldn’t be doing the work I do.” I gave him a long look. “I’m a null. I can find work anywhere, but I have principles. Besides, I can’t be a steward. I’m not a demon.”

It was Legion’s turn to laugh. “A steward?”

I bristled. “If you don’t want me to be a steward, what do you want me to do?”

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