The Kraken's Sacrifice (A Deal With a Demon #2)(21)

Ramanu takes in the room in a single sweep and spins on their heel to shove me back out the door. I allow it. I’m too shocked to do anything else. They slam the door to the bedroom and snarl at me. “What the fuck is this, kraken?”

“I don’t . . .” I clear my throat. “I don’t know.”

“This might not have triggered the contract, but don’t play the fool with me. This is not the living conditions Azazel expects for his humans and you know it.” They poke me in the chest with one long black claw. “I’m taking her out of here.”

“It’s fine.”

We both turn to find Catalina in the doorway. She looks paler than the last time I saw her, and there are dark circles beneath her eyes. She surveys us and shakes her head. “There’s no reason to fight about it. As you can see, I’m fine.”

“From what I can see, that’s not the word I would use.” Ramanu has softened their tone, though. They poke me one last time. “I’m going to speak with her, and if I don’t like what she says, you’re not going to like what I say.”

There’s no time to respond, and honestly, I’m not sure what I’d say. Catalina is so clearly not okay that I don’t know how to wrap my mind around it. I’m a man of action, though, and there’s one action in particular I can take.

I find my staff, a young woman and an old woman, in the kitchen. They both straighten as I stalk into the room. There’s a proper way to do this, but I’m too frazzled to think clearly. “What’s the meaning of this? Why is Catalina still clothed in the same dress from a week ago and staying in a room covered in dust?”

The old woman, Della, frowns at me. “We’re following your lead, sir. She’s cast out, and so our actions reflect that.”

My lead.

Goddess, I’ve made a mistake.

I almost snarl at them, but I know this is my fault. Not theirs. Instead I say stiffly, “Catalina is my honored guest and shall be treated as such.”

Annis blanches. “I’m sorry, sir. I had no idea. If I’d known—”

“My fault,” I cut in. “But see that it doesn’t happen again. Have you at least been feeding her?”

“Of course.” Della draws back as if struck. “We’re not villains. She’s been fed.”

Annis leans around Della’s back to look at me. “We gave her plain bread,” she says helpfully.

Plain bread. Catalina has been treated as a prisoner for a week, and I had no idea, because I wasn’t here. I had been so concerned about putting some distance between us—between the man I become when I’m near her—that I hadn’t stopped to consider the implications.

I have no one to blame but myself.

“Put together a true meal,” I grind out. “And clean another room for her, Annis.” I can’t blame them for the clothing situation any more than I can blame them for misunderstanding the reason I brought Catalina here. There are no clothes here that would fit a human. We only bother with cloth garments for special occasions, and even then, only the ones that won’t happen underwater. It’s a tradition holdover from when we interbred with humans more freely. They have strange ideas about nudity.

I head back the way I came, my thoughts already consumed by making this right. I’ll have to ask Embry bring over more clothing. I’m so distracted, I almost miss Ramanu stepping into the hallway.

They don’t look happier to see me than I am to see them. “She wants to stay.”

“Why?” I say it before I think better of my question. I want Catalina to stay, of course. Her leaving means losing everything I’ve fought to make ready for Embry. It means forcing my people to submit to a bargainer demon as a leader. I do not want that outcome.

I also . . . don’t want Catalina to leave.

“She has her reasons,” they say shortly. They study me for a few beats. “I know you lost your husband a few years ago.”

Where are they going with this? “Five years ago.” So long, and yet no time at all.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” They almost sound like they mean it. “No one expects you to marry the woman, Thane. Just don’t treat her like a prisoner, or the next time I come here, I’m taking her back to Azazel—regardless of what protests she or you make. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” I manage. I want to hate them for the threat, but it’s justified, and we both know it. “I understand.”

Ramanu studies me for a little longer, then nods. “You’d better.” They turn away. “I’ll see myself out.”

I wait until I can’t hear their footsteps any longer, and then I wait a while more until the wards ping as they move through them. Only then do I turn to the closed door between me and Catalina.

Apologizing is the right thing to do. I made a serious miscalculation, and she’s suffered for it. If she were anyone else, I’d already be in that room issuing my apology.

But she’s not anyone else. And . . . the woman gets under my skin like no one I’ve ever met. I loved Brant with everything I had, until it felt like our lives merged in a way I still haven’t recovered from, but he never drove me to the lengths Catalina can in just a few words.

And that’s from limited interactions. Will I even be the same man if I spend more time with her? Or will the fire of her presence banish the ghosts of my past?