Sweet Reckoning (The Sweet Trilogy #3)(17)

“I was just leaving. We can talk outside.”

The last thing I wanted was to be stuck in a room with them. I felt the light weight of the knife in my pocket, though I didn’t like the two-against-one odds.

They crowded the doorway, but I pushed my way out. The door was almost closed behind me when Caterina slapped her tiny palm to my chest.

“We prefer to speak in the room,” she said.

I smacked her hand away on instinct and yanked the door shut.

“Sorry, but I prefer to speak outside.”

“You are not sorry,” she scoffed.

Dang it. Stupid lie detector. I’d have to watch every word I said around her.

“Fine. I’m not sorry.”

“It’s all right, Caterina.” Marek smiled at me. “You can hardly blame her for being cautious, yes?”

He gave her a look that said something along the lines of Chill out, you’re scaring her. She rolled her eyes and started moving to the exit door down the hall. She looked like a soldier the way she marched in her black pants and stiff button-up white shirt.

“Come on then,” she called brusquely.

Marek shot me an apologetic glance and waved a hand out for me to go next. I went, looking over my shoulder at him several times with distrust. I had the hilt inside my bag since I was wearing shorts, and I wasn’t letting his stealthy hands anywhere near it.

When I slowed near the door, Marek bumped me from behind and I let out a little screech, turning on him. He kept his hands on my back to steady himself, and I had to shove him away with an elbow.

“My apologies,” he said, all innocence. He slipped his hands into his pockets and nodded down at the paper outside someone’s hotel-room door. The caption was about a huge pawnshop robbery in Atlanta. “The headline caught my attention.”

Not knowing whether or not to believe him, I pulled the bag around from my back to my chest as I pushed through the doors. I felt the shape of the hilt through the bottom of the bag and breathed a sigh of relief.

Outside it was dark, but the air still held the heaviness of the day’s heat and humidity. I didn’t walk to my car, opting instead to stand in a patch of grass at the side of the hotel, away from prying eyes. I faced them with my stance wide, sliding the book bag onto both shoulders in case I had to fight, which I prayed I wouldn’t.

“Strange things are happening,” crooned Caterina. “Would you not agree?”

I kept my hands loose at my sides, prepared. “You have one more chance to tell me why you’re here before I leave.”

She narrowed her beady dark eyes at me, and Marek stepped forward to speak.

“We have a few questions, daughter of Belial. That is all.”

“Questions from you? Or questions someone sent you to ask?”

I was losing patience, feeling overly anxious.

“Are you a virgin?” Caterina blurted.

Great.

“Okay, so something you’ve been sent to ask,” I said.

She smiled, a malicious show of teeth. Dread pooled in my belly.

Marek glowered down at Caterina.

“I’m not answering your questions,” I said. “I don’t trust you.”

Her smile was one of genuine amusement this time. “It’s true—you don’t trust me. But evading questions is almost always a sign of guilt.”

“Almost,” Marek pointed out, speaking to Caterina. “But not always. You’ve cornered her like an animal, and she obviously feels threatened.”

“If you can do better, do it yourself!”

The look she gave him was frightening. He had over a foot of height on her, but she stared at him as if she could take him down one-handed.

“Forget it!” I yelled. “It’s bad enough I have to deal with whisperers following me around. I’m not dealing with a couple of Neph, too. I’m out of here.”

I turned for the parking lot, walking fast.

“We are not finished!” Caterina spat.

Marek said something to her in a different language, using a scolding tone, and she responded in kind. I heard them following me, and I was shaking by the time I got to my car. I reached into the stretchy side pouch of my bag for the keys.

They were gone.

A jingle sounded behind me. In a flash I dug my knife out of my pocket, slid it open, and turned, jutting it out.

Marek and Caterina were five feet away, at the back of my car. He dangled my keys in front of him, a pleading look on his face. How the heck had he taken them?

Caterina’s eyes widened at the sight of my knife.

“Give them to me,” I said.

Marek spoke calmly. “I will, but I had to be sure you would speak to us before you left.”

“Throw them to me,” I demanded.

Caterina crossed her arms. “Not until you answer our questions. If you prefer not to speak with us, I’m certain the sons of Thamuz would be more than happy to pay you a visit.”

The mention of the sons of Thamuz made me dizzy with fear. Thamuz was the Duke of Murder, and I knew their methods of extracting information. They’d broken sweet Marna when she was still just a child, hurting her in unthinkable ways until she opened herself to seeing the demon whisperers.

A knowing smile lit up Caterina’s face. “I see you know of them. Do you know what they do for a living, daughter of Belial? They assist in kidnapping-for-ransom heists in South America.”