"The demon's your best mate, as in friend. Some other female out there is his other kind of mate. She ain't you."
Bettina was starting to believe this. If she and Cas had been fated, then why was there so much strain between them-especially when they tried to act like a couple?
Oh, what did it matter how she felt? So long as Gourlav still lived, Bettina's two choices of men were about to become . . . none.
She snatched up her soldering torch and adjusted the flame. Work! The fire blazed in front of her watering eyes.
"You know those raves you used to attend?" Salem said in a cautious tone. "You look like you're havin' a bad trip. Just slow your roll, chit."
"I'm fine." Flame to metal. Spring mechanism. Seamless adhesion.
"Look behind you, Princess! The dummies are dancing."
She heard them moving, but didn't glance up.
"Oi! Those soddin' dummies are boffin'."
She set the flame aside, slammed her palm against her workbench. "Please, Salem!"
The dummies stilled as if affronted. "Fine, then. Should I go spy?"
"Yes. Absolutely. Go."
"Maybe some of me sources'll give up details about Gourlav-now that their delegates are dead and all."
"Sounds like a plan," she said absently, lifting the torch once more. Soon she was lost in the process, working in a frenzy.
"I'm going, Princess."
Still here? She blew on the last heated section of metal, examining the assembled piece. Pride welled in her chest as she doused her torch. It was just like Daciano's sketch.
Yet when Salem finally left, a presence remained.
You're early," Bettina murmured to Trehan.
She'd sensed I'm here? He appeared fully. "And you're extraordinary," he bit out, marveling at her.
She'd been utilizing a soldering flame, her movements precise-and so quick that a mortal wouldn't have been able to discern her hands.
Her gaze had been one of total focus as her nimble fingers wrought such a formidable weapon. Her eyes were still glowing, her irises sparkling.
A thing of beauty to watch.
When he'd first arrived, his lingering rage over her attack and his marked confusion had felt like two animals clashing inside him. That turmoil had faded as he'd watched her.
She was here, healthy and safe, with him now. The Vrekeners were dead. And she was so f**king beautiful.
His lessening fury had been replaced with lust. The more he'd watched, the more aroused he'd grown, recalling how those delicate fingers had smoothed over his body just as eagerly.
Had he ever been so hard?
She set the new weapon in a special cradle, then turned to him. "We have a lot to talk about."
He cleared his throat before saying, "Don't let me stop you from completing it."
She seemed at a loss. "I've never worked with anyone but the sylph in here."
"That impudent being who just left?"