Taste a Thousand Deaths (Marionettes of Myth #3)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Zia and I sat opposite a young woman, not a strand of her thick black hair sticking out of her perfect, asymmetrical bob. She sat upright, astute, hands folded neatly atop the long table, slanted eyes making perfect eye contact and holding it like gripping a sponge too tightly. Clouds shifted in front of the sun, darkening the windows of Zia's meeting room. I spun the bracelet around my wrist and I swore the potential tenant could see right through the table, into my soul.

Zia flipped a page of the application. The print was neat and small and unquestionably legible, putting the typical scrawling letters of my handwriting to shame. "So, Helen? Where do you come from, Helen?"

"The city." Her sepia eyes pinched as she put on a smile that felt too practiced on the white lily tone of her face.

"Says here you're half demon, half human?"

"Yes."

"What sorts of things do you hunt?"

"Smaller bounties. I grew up a hunter, but I've only been out on my own recently."

Zia kicked her feet under her chair, heels grazing the weathered floor. "There's a whole pamphlet on etiquette that you can learn to preach like some of the others in the house do, especially over bathroom minutes." She stuck her pen behind her ear. "So, here's the thing. I've got lots of hunters vying over this room. Why should I put you in it?"

Helen didn't suffer a bit beneath the pressure. "I choose to be self-sustaining and independent and I pride myself in personal health, hygiene, and inner peace, so you'll never have to worry about me starting any quarrels with another hunter, as it's highly unlikely I'd waste my energy reserves over something with no beneficial return. I also remove my shoes at the door, so I'd be one less pair of feet tracking mud and snow inside."

I glanced sideways at Zia as her ankles crossed beneath her chair and her cheeks burned. She was in love. "I'm going to discuss things with my assistant."

The assistant was me. When Zia pushed out of her chair, I followed, and she took me down the hall, away from the door. Helen was half demon, which meant her hearing was half demon, which meant we had to walk a ways. Zia took us into a library, the pungency of old text and ink clouding the air. She then shut the door and turned on me, arms folded, feet hugging the ground, a lot like Toivo would stand to assert his position as alpha male—or, to try to assert his position. He wasn't really.

But Zia was, and she made it clear when she said, "I like her."

"I can tell."

"Tell me you like her too." When I didn't agree instantaneously she threw down her arms. "Why?"

I tucked my bangs behind my ears. "I'm not sure. I want to like her, she's a lot like you in some ways—as straightforward as a needle in the eye."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. But I get the feeling that she's keeping something secret."

Zia lifted her hands toward the ceiling. "We're hunters, Kal. And we're hunters who don't got no home except this one, which means we've all got bad pasts and secrets and lepers for parents and shit."

I couldn't help a little laugh. "Then, Zia, you've already convinced yourself. You don't need me."

"I don't need you. But I also don't want her to think we came to a decision so quickly. I want her to think she was on the cusp of rejection, that way she remembers I'm the boss and the ultimate king of this house." She borrowed a moment for pause. She never needed to borrow a moment for pause. "So, can I tell you something?"