Page 66 of Reap & Sow

His fingers stopped their little dance. “That will set off the warning fires. They’ll know a demon is in their midst.”

“And it’s a demon they’ll be looking for. But you’re a shape-shifter. A skilled one, no?” Eda gave him her full regard. By now, she was certain he liked flattery. “I doubt Blades will think to look for a mouse or cat scurrying about. Besides, now we know that it’s not the perimeter of the keep that’s warded. It’s the stone itself.” She tapped the papers. “You see? That’s why the warning fires were unchanged when you flew over them. So long as you don’t physically touch the stone, they won’t be triggered.”

He frowned. “I can’t hold a shape indefinitely.”

“Do I detect reluctance, Lord Ansellis?”

Kit finally looked at her, irritated. “I will do what’s required of me, as agreed. Doesn’t mean I’ll start performing cartwheels at the prospect of throwing myself into the viper’s nest. Enough of them at once…”

She knew what he was getting at. Powerful as he was, he’d be sorely outnumbered by mortals with weapons enough to bring about his destruction. “That’s why not getting caught is a rather important element of the plan.”

“What a mastermind strategist you are! What about your brothers, then? Unless Robin’s got two more of those mantles hiding in her underwear drawer, they’ll have a hard time going unseen.”

Robin tutted and stroked Old Bastard as he settled on her lap. “She’ll need to get into their cell, first.”

Eda bit her lip. “Could you make something, like you did the mantle? A sort of skeleton key or—or some enchantment that can open any lock—”

“I’m not your own private alchemist, girl. Demon’s horn is only worth so much. Besides, what you ask would be challenging to complete in so short a time. I’ve never even attempted it.”

Kit sat upright. “You don’t need Robin’s magic tricks. If I’m to enter the pit anyway, you shall make use of me. I’ll get them out.”

Eda failed to keep the surprise off her face. “That’s almost chivalrous of you.”

“I can be gallant when I wish.”

His roguish sneer was decidedly not gallant. It was downright dangerous. He looked it, too. Forgoing all layers except his claret shirt, open over his collarbones, Kit was more villain than hero. She’d thought her lingering anger would temper her reaction to his good looks, but her body disagreed. Eda studied an extremely interesting scuff on the dining table and crossed her legs.

Robin played with the pendant about her neck—a habit she indulged whenever in thought, apparently. “You’ll have to be on your best behavior tonight, Kit’rath. We’re going downriver. There’ll be many folk about, so no shape-shifting. Or any other demonic nonsense.”

Kit bared his teeth.

Eda straightened. “We’re moving?”

“I am moving,” Robin said. “If that doesn’t suit you, you’re welcome to find other accommodations. The riverfolk gather at the Embel Morrowstones every year when autumn harvest approaches. There’s always much trading to be done, and my coffers need filling.”

“How far downriver? We’ll need to get back into Blackbridge.”

“Don’t fret, lamb. It’s less than a mile from here. Just remember”—she pointed in Eda’s face—“no talk of Pacts or prison breaks.”

“As if I would.”

Robin’s finger swung Kit’s way. “And absolutely no—”

“No demonic nonsense. I heard you, hag.”

“That includes running underneath women’s skirts as a mouse.”

“Not sure I can promise anything.”

“So you are a lecher,” Eda accused.

“A jest, darling. Where I come from, a male risks his head being swiftly removed from his shoulders for such disrespect. I’m not crawling under anyone’s skirts.” He glanced at her from beneath his lashes. “Unless invited, of course.”

Kit clearly enjoyed flustering her. But Eda was resolute: She’d make it quite clear that he was not dealing with some naive, blushing virgin he could melt like butter. “I doubt you get many invitations. You’re so very opinionated, it’s a wonder you’d shut up long enough to put your mouth to good use.”

The silence echoed. Robin’s cheeks bulged with restrained laughter. But Kit’s reaction was far more interesting: his sudden unnatural stillness. Eda thrilled at her own hubris to goad him so.

“I can assure you, Eda Shaw. When I want to be quiet, I can be quiet for a very long time.” He leaned forward. Absurdly, she got the impression he was about to attack her. “And when I put my mouth to good use, I’m not the one who starts babbling—”