But that didn’t mean I had to stop looking for the truth.

I pulled back, then punched him hard in the chest. “Why didn’t you call? Or text? Or email? Or anything?” I demanded.

He grimaced and made a show of rubbing his chest, but I knew that the flicker of pain I saw flash across his face had nothing to do with my punch. “I’m sorry. I’m a dick. I just.…” He faltered.

“Don’t do it again,” I said, relenting. “Okay?”

Relief shimmered in his eyes. “Okay. I promise.”

On impulse I gave him another hug, and this time I could feel that some of the tension had left him.

“Come on,” I said, turning to head down the hallway. “Eilahn said something earlier about a very late breakfast.”

“Do I dare eat her cooking?” he replied as he followed me. He knew Eilahn was a demon. He also knew the demons didn’t like him, though he said he had no idea why. For that matter, neither did I, other than that they called him a kiraknikahl, or oathbreaker. Though it didn’t take a genius to figure out that it probably had something to do with my theory that he was an exiled demonic lord.

“She knows you’re a friend and off-limits as far as any sort of permanent damage is concerned. I think the worst she might do is hock a loogie into your omelet,” I said as seriously as I could manage.

I snickered as I heard him groan. “You’re evil,” he muttered.

Eilahn was already at the kitchen counter and pouring batter onto a waffle iron. I had no doubt that she’d been completely aware of Ryan’s presence in the driveway and of our conversation in the foyer. I wasn’t at all surprised that she hadn’t allowed him inside the protections. She kept her hostility in check at my request, but it was definitely still there. And what the hell could a demonic lord do to deserve exile? I wondered for the millionth time. What oath did he break?

And how much of a fool was I being by continuing to associate with him? The lords were dangerous, and Ryan clearly had enemies. But I can’t simply abandon him, I thought with a touch of defiance. He’s still my friend, damn it. At least until I have a damn good reason to feel otherwise.

The syraza gave Ryan a slight nod as he entered the kitchen. “Good afternoon, Ryan,” she said, tone not quite chilly. “Will you be joining us for a late breakfast?”

He smiled broadly and plopped down at the table. “Why yes, I believe I shall, and thank you for the invite!”

“I did not invite you,” she replied before returning her attention to the waffle iron. I winced at the reply, but Ryan merely smiled wider. Great, it was going to be like this.

I headed toward the coffeemaker. Thankfully, she had also made coffee. “I didn’t know I had a waffle iron.”

“You did,” Eilahn replied with a slight smile. “It was at the back of one of your cabinets. Still in the box.”

I wasn’t terribly surprised. I went through phases where I was convinced I was going to learn how to cook, or at least learn how to make cool things like waffles or margaritas. Those phases usually passed quickly, and the related appliance ended up forgotten somewhere. In contrast, in the relatively short time she had been living with me, I’d discovered that Eilahn was an enthusiastic and skilled gourmet. I had no idea if she’d already possessed these skills, or if she picked them up while here, but I wasn’t about to complain. I’d never eaten so well in my life.

I need to figure out some way to give her an allowance or something. I almost asked her if she needed funds then stopped myself. This wasn’t something I wanted to get into with Ryan around.

I busied myself with getting my coffee the way I liked it and poured a mug for Ryan as well. Ryan knew who and what Eilahn was and knew about her role here as my protector. But I felt strangely protective toward her—which wasn’t logical in many ways, since she was the badass demon.

But the demons hate him for a reason. And even if he doesn’t remember or realize it, he’s pretty damn powerful. I couldn’t…wouldn’t risk Eilahn if I could at all help it. No matter how much I cared about Ryan.

I do care about Ryan, I told myself as I handed him his mug. He met my eyes and smiled as he took it from me, his fingers briefly brushing mine. I returned the smile but I couldn’t fight back the uncertainty. I care about Ryan…the Ryan I knew. Who the fuck is this?

I set my own coffee down on the table, then pulled the chair that faced the hallway out and around to exchange it with the chair across from Ryan. He gave me a puzzled look at my antics. “This chair wobbles,” I explained with a lift of my chin toward the one I’d just switched out.

“So, why don’t you sit somewhere else?” he asked with a lift of one eyebrow.

I plopped my butt down in the replacement chair. “Because I don’t like sitting with my back to the hallway. It gives me the willies.”

Amusement lit his eyes. “The willies?”

“The willies,” I confirmed, with an accompanying sticking out of tongue. “Eilahn does not get the willies sitting there, so that is her usual seat. And you are actually in my usual seat, but I am being nice and not telling you to move.” I smiled sweetly at him and took a sip of my coffee.

Ryan gave a chuckle. “Gotcha. It all makes perfect sense now.”

Eilahn placed a waffle-laden plate in front of me, then removed a second large waffle from the iron, placed it on a plate and took her seat. She paused for a heartbeat, then looked to Ryan with a guileless expression. “I left the waffle iron on for you. There is more batter in the pitcher beside it.”

“I think I need to complain to the management about the service here,” he said as he pushed back his chair, but he gave me a wink as he headed to the counter.

He’s back less than an hour, and I can already see where the dynamic between them is going. Demons or not, I was going to nip this shit in the bud.

“Just so the two of you know,” I said, stabbing my fork into my waffle. “I’m really not into the whole passive-aggressive teasing back and forth bullshit that masks real antipathy, and that the parties involved think is oh-so amusing. Yeah, it’s funny sometimes, but it kind of fucking stresses me out. So, Ryan, stop antagonizing Eilahn. And Eilahn, I don’t expect you to serve him, me, or anyone else, but by human standards telling a guest in your house to cook their own meal is considered rude.” I lifted my head to smile sweetly at them. “And now I’m going to eat my waffle.”

Ryan had the grace to look chagrined. “Sorry, Kara.”

Eilahn inclined her head. “I apologize as well.”

“I have no problem making my own waffle,” Ryan said. “Please go ahead and eat, Eilahn.”

I didn’t detect any trace of sarcasm and apparently neither did Eilahn, for she murmured thanks. I breathed a silent sigh of relief and dug into my comfort food.

* * *

After we finished eating I told Eilahn I’d take care of cleaning up. She didn’t put up an argument. She retreated outside, leaving Ryan and me alone in the kitchen. An awkward silence fell as I ran the water and waited for it to turn hot.

“Any new and interesting cases?” Ryan asked after a moment.

“Sort of,” I said, dabbling my fingers under the running water. “Not a murder but something kind of strange.” I quickly explained about the deaths of Barry Landrieu and Evelyn Stark and how I knew them. I wasn’t about to share the details of my connection to the two victims with the entire Beaulac police department, but I trusted Ryan.

He leaned against the counter, crossed his arms over his chest, and frowned. “Coincidences make me twitchy.”

“You and me both,” I said. The water was still cold, so I shut it off. Grabbing a towel, I dried my hands as I walked down the hall to a utility closet. “My water heater’s ancient,” I explained as he followed me. “Sometimes I have to relight the pilot manually.”

He wrinkled his nose in sympathy as I crouched and stuck the long lighter into the appropriate hole in the bottom of the tank. “It looks like you’ve done this a few times,” he said.

I listened for the sound of the gas firing up, then stood and nodded. “It’s on my list of things to replace when I can afford it,” I said with a sigh, closing the closet door. I didn’t bother returning to the kitchen, since I knew it would take a while for the water to warm up, and instead headed to the living room.

“There’s more,” I said as I plopped down into the armchair instead of my customary spot on the couch. Yes, I was a chickenshit, because what if he sat next to me? Then I might have to actually think about how I felt about him and whether his sitting next to me meant anything or nothing as far as his own feelings. And then I’d have to consider the fact that I suspected stuff about Ryan that I didn’t dare share with him, as well as consider the possibility that this whole “Ryan” that I knew was a total sham anyway.

No, much better to sit in the armchair and give myself more time to try and figure all of this crap out.

He didn’t seem to notice my hesitation over the seating arrangements and simply sat on the end of the couch closer to the chair. “More?” he frowned. “Tell me.”

I did so, giving him a rundown of the graa attack as well as the summoning attempt.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed after I finished. “So there’s another summoner involved, there are two deaths that seem to be connected, and someone in the demon realm is still trying to summon you.”

I nodded.

“Are any of these related to each other?” he asked.

I spread my hands and shrugged. “I have no fucking idea.”

He gave a dry chuckle. “Is your life ever dull?”

I could only laugh. “Not in the ways that count!”

He reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I have your back,” he said. “In any way I can. You know that, right?”

The memory of the being who’d blasted the golem with arcane power rose up. I could barely reconcile that creature and Ryan as the same person.