Demon Bound

do, you will be the reason.”
    His cocky smile flashed. “Yeah, I bet. Do it.”
    “Why?”
    “Because Teqon has your soul by the balls. Because your husband was a prick. Because I’m a dickhead. Because lately it’s hard to tell if we’re just grunts in a war where everything we believe we’re fighting for is going to be blown out from under us by the guys higher up the chain.”
    So this was partially for him. Alice tilted her head back and shrieked. Short, piercing—and she could not hold it. She caught a breath, laughing.
    He grinned down at her. “Come on. That felt good, didn’t it?”
    “Yes.”
    “Better than settling your nerves?”
    Her laugh died. Familiar anxiety and anger tightened around her chest. This time, her scream ripped at her throat, went on until she had no air in her lungs.
    When she finished, Jake was rigid above her. “Better?”
    “Yes.” Her voice was hoarse.
    “Good. Could you ask Irena to remove her giant knife from between my legs?”
    Oh, dear God in Heaven. Alice twisted beneath him.
    Irena crouched beside the table, her eyes burning. The tattoos on her arms coiled like snakes preparing to strike. “This is of your choosing, Alice?”
    Her mouth was too dry to answer. She nodded.
    Irena stood. “When you have finished, you will come to my forge. Jake, too.”
    He rolled off her as soon as Irena’s footsteps faded, and cupped himself through his jeans. “Oh, thank you, Onan. Everything’s there.” He glanced over at Alice, who was still trying to bring moisture up to her tongue. “Whoa boy. She scared you ?”
    “Yes.” Alice swallowed, sat up, began straightening her skirts. “But not for myself. The next time I scream with you on top of me, we will put up the shielding spell first. I suppose that scene was not pleasant for her to come upon.”
    Jake frowned thoughtfully and turned his head, as if looking after Irena. “What happened to her? Was it that bad?”
    “I am not certain.” Alice stood. “But there are times I suspect it was worse than I imagine.”

CHAPTER 20
    Alice projected an image of Irena’s smithy to Jake, and they were immediately surrounded by the scent of soot, smelted ore, and a dirt floor.
    Even with the wobbling, it was much more convenient than traveling through the Baltic Gate and flying northeast for an hour. Irena had not yet arrived, but at eight times Alice’s and Jake’s combined ages, Irena was twice as fast; she would not be long.
    “She should only be thirty minutes,” Alice said, holding lightly on to his arm as she waited for the disorientation to pass.
    Unaffected by the jump, Jake nodded, firelight casting uncertain shadows over his face.
    There was, as always, a small fire burning in the hearth at the center of the lodge, and coals glowing in the furnaces squatting along the northern walls. Wind whistled across the ceiling hoods that released smoke into the air; sleet clinked against the metal roof as if the sky rained crushed glass.
    “I thought she usually sculpted weird angry things,” Jake said, looking behind Alice.
    “She does.” Now that her feet were solid beneath her, Alice felt confident enough to turn.
    Her breath strangled in her throat.
    “That’s more minimalist. Or abstract.” He approached the large steel cube, walked around the corner of it. He slid his palm up and down the smooth surface, then tapped it with his knuckles. A dull, hollow echo sounded through the thick metal. “Okay, and still weird.”
    He glanced back at her, and his amusement slowly faded. His hands pushed into his pockets. His gaze ran over the cube again, this time incisive, measuring.
    Oh, blast Irena for forcing this. She’d known what Jake would see when they arrived.
    “You know what this is?”
    “Yes.” Alice laced her fingers together over her midriff, strived for an even tone. “It is for me.”
    “Because of your bargain?”
    She nodded sharply.
    “What—to make sure you never fulfill it, she offered this as an alternative to killing you?” He teleported so close she had to tilt her head back to see his face. “Do I need to get you out of here?”
    She felt his concern, as if he thought Irena was planning to push her into an oven. “No,” she said, but knew it would not reassure him. “She likely only intends to show me that the box is ready.”
    Though he didn’t move, he seemed to stagger. “This was your idea?”
    “Yes.”
    He stared at her, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “This is