"You're both idiots," I added, staring at Mr. Ray. "Killing each other for a stupid-ass statue when neither one of you has it. How lame is that?"
Mrs. Sarong cleared her throat. "You know he doesn't have it... how?" she drawled.
A good dozen answers fell through my brain, but the only one that they would believe would be the one that was the most impossible. "Because I have it," I said, praying it was the answer that would keep me breathing for another day.
Silence greeted my claim. Then Mr. Ray laughed. I jumped when his hand slapped down onto the table, but Mrs. Sarong's gaze was fixed on the Weres behind me, her face paling. "You!" the heavy Were said between guffaws. "If you have the focus, I'll eat my shorts."
My lips pressed together, but Mrs. Sarong spoke next. "You take ketchup with your silk, Simon?" she said sourly. "I think she's got it."
Mr. Ray stopped laughing. His brown eyes noted her ashen hue, and then he looked to me. "Her?" he said in disbelief.
My pulse quickened, and I wondered if I had made a mistake and they'd band together to take it from me before turning against each other once more.
"Look at her alpha," the slight woman said, pointing with her eyes.
We all looked. David was sitting half on a table with one foot on the floor, the other draped down and hanging. His duster was open to show his trim body, and his rifle was in his hands. Yes, it was a big gun, but there were - as Jenks said - nineteen other weapons in the place. Yet there he was holding two aggressive packs still and silent.
David had always been an impressive individual, having the standing of an alpha and the mystique of a loner. But even I could see the new expectation in his manner. He wasn't just capable of dominating another Were; he expected it to happen without a complaint. It was the focus's magic trickling through him. He had gained the power of creation, and though it had resulted in the deaths of innocents, it didn't lesson the magnitude of what that meant.
"My God," Mr. Ray said. Eyes wide, he turned to me. "You have it." He swallowed. "You really have it?"
Mrs. Sarong had taken her hands from the threat of her weapon and set them on the table. It was a submissive move, and a chill took me. What have I done? Will I survive it?
"You were there, at the bridge, weren't you? When the Mackinaw Weres found it?" she said coolly.
I leaned back to distance myself. What I wanted to do was run away. "I had it before that, actually," I admitted. "I was up there rescuing my boyfriend." I fixed on her eyes, wondering if they were a shade chagrined. "The one you think I killed," I added.
My pulse hammered when she dropped her eyes for an instant, then returned them to me. God help me, what have I become?
Mr. Ray wasn't convinced. "Give it to me," he demanded. "You can't hold it. You're a witch."
One down, one to go, I thought, scared, but to back down now would end my life more quickly than publicly claiming the stupid thing. "I'm his alpha," I said, nodding to David. "I say that says I can."
The man's eyes narrowed. Looking as if he had cracked a rotten egg, he said, "I'll make you part of my pack. That's my best offer. Take it."
"Take it or what?" I allowed a touch of sarcasm into my voice. "I have a pack, thank you. And why does everyone keep telling me I can't do things? I've got it. You don't. I'm not giving it to you. End of story. So you can stop killing each other trying to find out where it is."
"Simon," Mrs. Sarong said caustically, "shut your yap. She has it. Deal with it."
I would have tried to find a compliment in that but figured her support would only last until she found a way to kill me.
Mr. Ray met her gaze, and something I didn't understand passed between them. David felt it. So did every Were in the place. Like a wave, they all relaxed. I felt ill when both packs shifted and every weapon was put away. My worry tightened. Damn and double damn. I can't afford to trust this.
"I didn't target your aide," Mr. Ray said, his thick arms going to rest atop the table.
"I didn't touch your secretary," the woman said, taking out a compact and checking her makeup. It snapped shut, and she met his eyes squarely. "No one in my pack did either."
Just peachy damn keen. They were talking, but I didn't think I was in control. "Fine," I said. "Nobody is killing anybody, but we still have two murdered Weres." The two of them had given me their full attention, and my stomach knotted. "Look," I said, very uncomfortable, "someone besides us knows the focus is in Cincinnati and is looking for it. It might be the island Weres. Has either of you heard of a new pack in town?"
As I thought of Brett, they both shook their heads.
Okay. Swell. Back to square one. I wanted them to leave, so I leaned back as if in dismissal. I'd seen Trent do it a couple of times, and it seemed to work for him. "I'll keep looking for the murderer, then," I said, glancing at their thugs. "Until I figure out who's doing this, will you two let go of each other's throats?"
Mr. Ray sniffed loudly. "I will if she does."
Mrs. Sarong's smile was stilted and clearly false. "I can do the same. I need to make a few calls. Before sunset." A pointed look at her daughter and the young woman excused herself, cell phone in hand as she went outside. Mr. Ray gestured, and one of his men followed her.
I wondered what Mrs. Sarong had planned for sunset, then dismissed it. I didn't like the two of them fighting, but I liked this cooperation even less. Perhaps it was time for a little personal CYA. "The focus is hidden," I said. Sort of. "It's in the ever-after," I continued, and they stared at me, Mr. Ray's fingers twitching. Liar, I thought, not feeling a twinge of guilt. "Neither of you can find it, much less get it." Lie, lie, li-i-i-ie. "If I go missing, neither of you gets it. If any of my friends or family go missing, I'm going to destroy it."
Ever the one to test the limits in as crass a manner as possible, Mr. Ray harrumphed. "And I should take you seriously because... ?"
I stood, wanting them to leave. "Because you were ready to hire me to do something you couldn't. Kill Mrs. Sarong."
Mrs. Sarong smiled at him and shrugged.
Just a bit more, I thought, and maybe I can sleep tonight. "And because I have a demon who owes me a favor," I added, my pulse quickening.
No, a small part of my mind whispered, and I stifled a surge of fear for what I was doing. I was accepting that Minias owed me. I was accepting his bargain. I was dealing with demons. But the thought of these two people descending upon my life, setting fire to my church and burning it to the ground in search of that stupid statue filled me with a more immediate fear. Fear for myself, I could deal with. Fear for others, I couldn't.
"If something happens I don't like," I said, "he's going to come looking for you. And you know what?" My pulse pounded, and I held the table for balance as vertigo took me. "He likes killing things, so he might be a little overzealous about it. It wouldn't surprise me if he took you both out to be sure he gets the right person."
Mr. Ray's eyes dropped to my wrist, my demon mark clearly visible.
"Make your calls," I said, ready to dissolve into the shakes. "Calm your people. And keep your mouths shut. If the word gets out I've got it, it will decrease your chances that you'll find a way around my demon and get it yourself." I took a moment and captured their eyes. "Do we have an understanding?"
Mrs. Sarong stood, her purse in her tight grip before her. "Thank you for the drink, Ms. Morgan. It was a most enlightening conversation."
Kisten came out from behind the bar as she headed for the door, her entire entourage flowing into her wake. The sun entered in a flash as the door opened, and I squinted, feeling like I had been at the bottom of a hole for three weeks. Mr. Ray looked me up and down, his fleshy cheeks slack and unmoving. Giving me a nod, he made a gesture to his people and followed her out, their pace slow and provocative, weapons tucked away as they filed through the door.
I stood where I was until the last of them passed the threshold. I waited a bit longer until the door slipped shut and put me back in darkness. Only now did I give in and let my knees buckle. I could hear Kisten crossing the room, and I put my head on the table and sighed.
I had a reputation for dealing with demons. I didn't want it, but if it would keep those I loved safe, then I was going to use it.