Instead it was as if it was . . . leaking out of him.
“It was a gift,” the demon smoothly countered.
Roke tapped the top of the box with his dagger, his gaze noting the intruder’s most subtle reaction.
Vampires were masters at detecting weakness in their enemies.
“What does it do?”
“Nothing.” The creature lifted a hand. “It’s merely a decoration.”
Roke shook his head. “You don’t risk war with the vampires over a trinket.”
Genuine confusion rippled over the Miera’s face, his body seeming to smudge and flicker at the edges. What the heck? Was it an illusion?
“I have no fight with the vampires.”
“You will,” Roke assured him. “Styx takes it quite personally when someone tries to kill one of his clan chiefs.”
There was a hesitation and Sally belatedly understood Roke’s tactic.
He was judging the desperation of the creature not only by revealing that he was a clan chief, but also by tapping the box with the dagger. It would prove just how important the box was to the Miera and how anxious he was to get his hands on it.
“As I said, give me the box and there will be no need for bloodshed,” the demon at last commanded, clearly worried his box might be damaged by the dagger.
“You haven’t said what it does,” Roke countered, his attention focused on the Miera who was once again walking around the circle even as he spoke directly into her mind.
Be ready to run....
Sally swallowed a tiny gasp. Hadn’t she told him not to do that?
And if she hadn’t, then that was something that needed to be taken care of ASAP.
Well, just as soon as they were out of trouble.
“The shield is weakening,” the Miera pronounced, flicking his tongue with obvious satisfaction.
Roke covertly slid his dagger back into the holster at his lower back.
“If you attack us you risk destroying the box,” he reminded the demon, reaching to grasp her hand.
“There are some risks worth taking,” the demon hissed, his pale eyes abruptly morphing to a startling black that was slit with red.
Sally might have been wigged out by the strange eyes if she hadn’t been desperately struggling to maintain the shield.
The past three weeks had taken their toll.
Her magical tank was running on empty.
The cracks in the shield were beginning to form when she felt a warning blast of frigid air.
Roke’s power.
Familiar with the bad, bad things that could happen when the vampire released his innate talent, she made no protest when he yanked her to her feet and shoved her toward the door.
“Sally, now,” he barked, trusting her to lower the shield in time for them to leap over the candles.
The demon gave an eerie growl of fury, but before he could react there was a shower of splinters as the overhead beams shattered beneath Roke’s power. In the next second Sally was tossed out the door and the cottage that had withstood a century of violent storms, a rare earthquake, and an attack by a rival witch, collapsed into a pile of rubble.