Page 26 of The Girl Who Should Be Dead

But thankfully, the door clacks open, and Gurlien steps back out, juggling four ceramic mugs filled with steaming black liquid.

“Just you?” Gurlien asks, setting down the mugs on the table, then briskly rubbing his hands together.

“Well,” the man drawls, “T got spooked and Zoel didn’t want to come.”

“Zoel the Wight?” Ambra interjects, already skeptical. “That wasn't Wight magic right there.”

Gurlien sighs, sitting at least on Ambra’s side of the table and cradling his mug. “Zoel could have been a helpful neutral party,” he says.

“Zoel hates you, that’s far from neutral,” the man shoots back, and Ambra cranks her head over to look at Gurlien.

“Why would a local Wight dislike you?” she asks, curious, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the chilled table. “Wights are famously easy to get along with.”

“Yeah, Gurlien, why does Zoel hate you?” the man asks, and Ambra scowls at his sarcastic tone. “It’s a good story, you should tell her.”

Gurlien frowns at the man. “It’s not important,” he replies, and Ambra’s absolutely going to needle him about it later. “We could’ve used his expertise.”

“No,” the man says, then grins at Ambra like they’re friends. “We consulted, it’s far outside of his expertise.”

Then, horror of horrors, he extends his hand over to Ambra.

“I’m Axel,” he introduces, and Ambra just leans further back, not reaching for his hand. “Gurlien said you killed Kyle Johnsin yesterday.”

Ambra swallows, and almost at the memory, pain shivers over her. Like just thinking about it could make the body react outside of her control.

“To be technical, he was torturing her, that counts in self-defense,” Gurlien points out.

“I’m definitely not going to be mourning him,” Axel says,still keeping too much of his attention on Ambra. “You want to be free of all of them?”

Ambra glances at Gurlien, almost to give herself a bit of a rest from the intensity of the attention. His fingers are wrapped around the mug, almost idly, and small lines of tension bracket his eyes underneath his glasses.

“Yes,” she replies, and again, the shiver of pain.

“Then what are you planning on doing?” It’s far too casual, far too friendly, and Ambra doesn’t buy it one bit, so she scowls, crossing her arms. “I have a list of questions, if you want our help—and I’m not exaggerating when I say we’re probably the most qualified in the world—you need to answer them.”

Another quick glance to Gurlien, and he nods, minutely.

“Finding someplace to be alone,” she answers, though it feels wrong, to divulge this to another person. “Exist.”

“Any plans on destroying the world?” Axel asks dryly, and Ambra blinks at him, then wrinkles her nose. “Good answer.”

“I told you—” Gurlien bursts out, and Axel waves him off.

“And you lie,” Axel shoots back. “So yes, we’re going to ask all the questions.”

He leans back, sipping from his drink, then pulls out a tiny notebook, and Ambra tries to crane her neck to see the writing, but unfortunately this body doesn’t have the ability to read upside down.

Gurlien sighs, then gestures to the mug in front of Ambra. “Have you tried coffee yet?”

“I didn’t like it,” Ambra replies, but the steam coming from it is appealing, especially when her nose is back to being cold. “Too bitter.”

“Put sugar and cream in it,” Axel murmurs. “All demons I know like that.”

“All demons?” Ambra asks, her skin prickling. “Did you tell them I was here?” Preemptively, she grabs Gurlien’s wrist, the curiosity over the list the only thing stopping her from teleporting away immediately.

“Believe me when I say they have no interest in harming you,” Axel says, raising an eyebrow at the motion. “But yes, sugar and cream.”

Ambra carefully releases her hand from Gurlien, and he rubs the inside of his wrist. She doesn’t trust this Axel, but…

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