Page 84 of Dancing With Demons

My gods, what the hell goes on in this nightmare?

“Anyway,” Ronin continued. “Father needed to conceal my beauty, but normal glamour spells aren’t up to the task.”

“Hence the creation of a ten-times-more-powerful potion,” I finished, “that’s safe for a baby to consume.”

He nodded.

“But why do dryads want that?” I asked.

“For their trees. The Others are constantly being hunted down and slaughtered, and trees don’t pull up their roots and run,” he said. “The dryads needed a way to hide their trees from sight of all.”

“I guess that makes sense.” I narrowed on him. “But what do they trade you in return?”

“Does it matter?”

Sighing, I replied, “I guess not. All that matters is if they’re willing to talk to me. I assume the meeting will have to take place outside the academy, since only werewolves, demons, vampires, fae, and murderous, man-sized crows are allowed on the grounds.”

He chuckled.

“So how soon can you set it up?” I asked. “Without threatening them. I find people are in a much better mood to discuss when they haven’t been dragged to the table.”

Ronin hummed. “With threats? Today. Without threats? Tomorrow,” he replied. “But neither option matters, because there won’t be any such meeting.”

My rising smile died on my lips. “Excuse me?”

Ronin shook his head at me like I was the problem. “You still don’t understand where you are, pet. This is hell, and whatever dryads may have been when they frolicked in the sun and rain in your world, that’s not what they are now.

“That rat would have you believing they’re good-natured because they took him in when no other demon would, but they’d have wanted him because he served a purpose, and no more,” Ronin said. “Dryads can’t move more than a half a mile from their trees. The rat can. It would have been his job to fetch water and keep the saplings alive. Should he have failed in that task for a second, they’d have killed him without a second thought.”

I flinched. “That’s not— You don’t even know—”

“I don’t know dryads? And what, mortal, you do?” His mocking laugh curled my fists. “Dryads are twisted, amoral pests. They’re minor nature goddesses, and see every other creature as a tool born to serve, worship, or entertain them—no more. What will most likely happen is they’ll be so offended that you dared to request information from them without an offering, they’ll kill you and use your body as fertilizer.”

“Well, then, I’ll give them an offering!”

“And what do you have that a dryad wants?”

My lips parted, but nothing came out.

“That’s what I thought.”

Frustration would’ve exploded my head if it were only possible. “Ronin, what was the point of telling me you could help me with the dryads if you never planned to!”

He roared up, eating the distance between us. “The point was to rid you of the delusion that anyone else can, or will, help and protect you the way I can. That Nik”—he spat the name—“has put you in danger once before to win a challenge he didn’t give a shit about. What will he do when you’re screaming for mercy, and his mothers tell him to stuff a gag in your mouth and shut you up?” He flashed me a huge pout. “Ahh, do you think he’ll choose to protect you?”

“I don’t know what he’d do,” I pushed through gritted teeth. “I don’t know if he can help me. I don’t know if the dryads can! But I do know I have to try. When Lucifer calls back asking for the identities of the hallows, I have to be able to give him an answer.”

He snorted. “Make up whatever answers you like, Hunter. The hallows don’t exist.”

“Yes, they do! I’ve seen—!”

“What have you seen!” Ronin burst out, blowing me back. “Tell me exactly what you saw that has you so determined to throw your life away at every fucking turn! Fuck’s sake, Charlotte!” A new emotion bled into his ruby orbs. “Why do I care more about your life than you do!?”

I backed up, eyes wide. Gone was the laid-back, devil-may-care jerk from only moments before. This devil was shouting, he was angry, but most of all what I saw in his eyes was—

Concern? Is Ronin... worried about me?

I tossed my head, ridding my mind of it the second it passed through. This wasn’t concern or worry. It’s control, and the most dangerous thing I could do was confuse the two.