Sin & Spirit (Demigod of San Francisco #4)(43)



I shrugged, happy to be left out of it. “Fine by me.”

The cat leapt onto the table and sauntered across it, as though it was perfectly normal for an outdoor animal to traipse across a surface where food was consumed.

“Get down,” I said, pointing at the ground. “Shoo. Go!”

It stretched, completely ignoring my fervent movements. It kicked out its back legs, one at a time, then took a seat next to my glass of water.

“Seriously, do they not listen?” I asked in bewilderment. “Its butthole is on the table.”

The cat batted my glass of water.

“No—”

Water splashed as the glass tipped. I reached out to grab it, but was too late. Liquid sloshed across the surface of the table and spilled into my lap.

“You little shit!” I jumped up, bending over to look at my soaked jeans. “What in the absolute hell?”

Zorn rose and scooped the cat off the table.

“Don’t tell me you like cats, too,” I asked incredulously as Zorn retreated to the other room where two cat bowls had mysteriously appeared, one for water and the other for food. “They don’t listen. They just do whatever they please.”

“They’re like women,” Jack said. “They stare at you flatly, reading you, judging you. If you are worthy, they will allow you to pet them, but only on their terms and only when they’re in the mood. Treat them well, though, and they’ll give you all the love you can handle, sometimes with a little painful nibble to keep things interesting.”

“Well, that one is a moody jerk who doesn’t listen.” Realizing what I’d said, and in what context, I held up a finger. “Don’t you dare say that’s like a woman.”

“Hear that, Boman?” Thane said. “Don’t say that a moody jerk who doesn’t listen is like Lexi. Keep it to yourself and only passive-aggressively give her Midol to combat the issue.”

“Keep it up and I’ll treat your nuts like a soccer ball for the second time,” Boman replied.

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Shifting back to things that are actually important, did that spirit ever tell you the name it wanted to go by?” Bria asked.

The mood in the kitchen changed on a dime. I shook my head. “I make it a habit not to ask for spirits’ names, so I didn’t even think of it, and he didn’t offer. But we know his name, don’t we? Or don’t you?”

“I know all three. His birth name, the name he gave himself in school when he grew confident in his magic, and finally the name he was given after he was broken and re-formed with a killer’s mind. I’m interested in which name he goes by now.”

“You can still feel him?” Kieran asked me.

I nodded, because yes, I could. His presence existed at the edges of my awareness—the pulsing sensation that I held someone’s soul on a rope. When I pulled that awareness front and center, I felt the string connecting us. I knew I could use that string to easily compel him, as he’d said. I could even force him, regardless of his power. I’d bound him to me. And he’d shown me how.

“Yet he can’t come inside?” Bria asked.

I shook my head. “He’s bound, but he’s still at arm’s length.” A payment in trust indeed. From now on, I would need to run all of my interactions with this spirit through Kieran, because if this spirit was manipulating me, I doubted I’d know. I simply didn’t have the experience to always think someone was lying. It was draining. Kieran could shoulder that burden.

“But Demigods can come inside,” I said. “The boosted protections won’t change that. They can still rip down my magic and come on in.”

Kieran leaned forward, bracing his arms on the table. Thane and Boman both leaned against the island, their eyes intense.

“A Demigod in shadow form, right?” Kieran clarified, probably for his guys.

“Yes. In the form from the other night. Whoever it was didn’t have any problem with the old…spell, or whatever you call it, and while it wasn’t well done, it was still powerful. A Demigod, even in spirit form, trumps me.”

“He didn’t show you how to set alarms to alert you if someone tampers with your magic in real time?” Bria asked.

“You can do that?” I reached for my glass, which Kieran had refilled, then hesitated, wondering if cat hair had gotten in it.

Bria shrugged. “Don’t know about yours, but I can set little warnings to let me know if inhabited cadavers cross into my defined space. It should also work for a strong soul. The only problems are: one, this is a house and I might set the whole place on fire, and two, I don’t know if a Demigod can circumvent it somehow. I would assume one of Hades’s line could, although I have no proof.”

“They’d see your warning system only if they knew to look for it,” Jack said, plating the steaks.

“If they didn’t, there’s still the issue of possibly burning the house down. I have some of the tools, but don’t have the sand pits to keep the fire contained.” Bria reached for her backpack. “I can try, though. I can poor-man-set-up anything. I’m not proud. Poseidon ain’t got nothin’ on me.”

“No, he does not,” Zorn said from beside the doorway. I hadn’t even heard him sneak back in.

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