fact that she craved him like an addict craved their next fix meant nothing.
Then again, it wasn’t as if he’d asked for her forgiveness. He watched her from behind the depths of his shimmering blue eyes. Waited for her to reach whatever conclusion she was going to reach because he clearly wasn’t going to explain himself.
The sting in her chest felt like an angry hornets’ nest. She took a sip of coffee and then asked rather pettily, “Why are you signing? You speak perfectly well, Quentin. I’ve heard you.”
“How about we get off of me and back to the business at hand?” he said. With his voice. Not his hands. He dropped the charade and refocused on Dora. “Why did that demon choose you?”
Surprised at becoming the center of attention, the woman blinked at him. “I have no idea.
“Dora, did the demon actually attack you?”
“Well…” She seemed to think for a bit. “I don’t know. I mean, it was just there and…and then I fell. I’m just not sure.”
Dora looked at Quentin. “That’s odd, right? I mean, it didn’t attack the first responders at the scene, either. In fact, the only one it has actually attacked is you. It doesn’t like you.”
Quentin turned to look out the window. “It doesn’t like what’s inside me.”
Fighting to keep her cool—could he really be opening up?—Amber leaned forward. “What’s inside you?”
The wary gaze he leveled on her spoke volumes. “Anger. Frustration. A thundering resentment I can hardly contain.”
She sank back in her chair, disappointment chafing every molecule in her body. He didn’t trust her.
“Why are we back on me when a demon is killing people?”
He had a point. “I just can’t figure out why it’s so volatile.”
“Demon?” Quentin said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. At least, he’d mastered the language.
“No, there’s more. I can’t describe it. It’s like…” She looked at him. “Well, it’s like anger. Frustration. A thundering resentment he can hardly contain.” Then it hit her. Control. The demon was being controlled by someone very much like Quentin was being controlled, at least in part, by the entity inside him. Only a loss of control would bring about that kind of resentment. That kind of bitterness. “You said you’ve been tracking the demon. How?”
“A variety of ways. I can track it to a degree with the compass.” He took it out and showed it to her. “From there, I look for news stories and read police blotters. It always kills at least two people, often more, but never just one.”
The round compass looked like an antique brass pillbox, but it was indeed a compass when Amber opened it. One that had seen better days. It was scratched and marred and beat up, much like its owner. Four tiny, amber jewels indicated the four directions: north, south, east, and west.
It emitted an otherworldly heat, but before she could examine it further, Quentin took it back and closed the lid.
“The Secret Guard gave that to you?”
“Not exactly. More like they allowed me to keep it. To help with my investigations.”
“You mean, you found that?”
He hesitated, his face forming a thoughtful frown, and said, “In a way, yes. But I had help.”
“And the dagger?”
“I had help finding that, too.”
“But it’ll kill the demon?”
“If I can get in a good swing, yes. I just need to eat.” He was looking a little peaked, his pallor ghostly as though his strength were waning, and Amber straightened in her chair as alarm crept through her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said, almost seeming annoyed that she’d asked. Asshat.
The entire time they spoke, Kyle had kept busy scribbling notes. It was what he did. Quentin glared at him, but Kyle missed it, he was so busy transcribing their conversation.
“Hey,” she said to Quentin, her tone warning, “don’t get mad at him. He’s just doing his job.”
“And what exactly does he do for you?”
The way he said it, as though he were jealous in some way, took her by surprise. She leaned forward and said, “He’s done more for me than you ever did.” That was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that.
He bit down and looked at his watch, then toward the kitchen in annoyance. “I need to get back. Anyone with a key could open that front door now.”
“That’s bad?”
“I contained the demon inside the salt circle. If anyone opens that door, they’ll break it, and the demon will escape.”
“Crap. Hopefully, the police tape will keep the family out.”
“My family,” Dora said softly. “What they