Page 110 of Reap & Sow

She tugged the plait free. “We subjected the boar to even more debauchery. I’m sure he won’t mourn our leaving.”

“Indeed. I only wish we’d more time to traumatize him.”

Eda’s chest constricted. More time. Strange, how little she’d cherished it when she thought she had it to spare. Nothing was so precious. Even demons knew that.

She pulled him down to kiss her. It was meant to be a brief thing, but he deepened it at once. The slide of his lips awoke every nerve in hers. Her blood rose at his call. Was it usual to want someone this badly? To embrace, skin-to-skin, and still be too far apart?

Kit made a pleased animal sound. He crowded Eda, tugged her against him—

Behind them, a short huff. Eda pulled away.

Tripp had returned. He glared disapprovingly. “The Shaw boy is here.”

She spared Kit a sheepish look and ran to the balcony.

It was drizzling, clouds blocking the autumn sun. Standing in the shade of the house was Ben, holding his hood close as he tilted back to look at her. Eda waved awkwardly. Ben’s dour expression did not change. “I’ll—I’ll let you in,” she called.

Eda hurried down the narrow oak stairs and across the foyer, heaving back the arched front door. “Ben, what are you—”

“Lawrie is ill.” He pushed past, eyeing the dark house. “Worse than before.”

Eda paled. “But Robin was treating him. Does she think he’ll lose his leg?”

“She didn’t think it necessary at first. Now she’s not sure it would do much good anyway. He’s…he’s dying, Eda.”

Eda’s thoughts stilled. She searched Ben’s face for a sign of jest. “No, he isn’t. He’s not dying, Ben.” She laughed—a high, unsteady sound. “Lawrie’s had infections before. He just needs time to rest, and maybe a proper healer. Robin did say she wasn’t a physician.”

“This is no ordinary infection. The fiends are not of this world. Lawrie’s body can’t fight off a demonic infection.”

“Then…remove the leg! We’ll cut it off if we have to—”

“He’s too weak. It’s in his blood now.” His voice trembled. He was trying to hold himself together. Eda could not remember the last time Ben had been this close to tears. “Robin says he has days.”

She gripped the wall for support. No. Her ears rang, belly flooding with ice water. Eda suddenly felt very far away. “What do we do? Ben, there has to be something.”

“The infection is magical. Robin said that there’s nothing to feed it when cut off from its source. Destroy the source, destroy the infection. That’s the only way.”

It was just as Kit had described. A demon entirely cut off from his homeland’s magic is weaker for it. Hope flared behind her ribs. “Infernus, you mean, where the fiends came from. The Gateway. Then we’ll destroy it! Both Mr. Night’s and Severin Lich’s—”

“The fiends draw their power from the one who commands them. That’s what Robin said, at least. It’s the only reason they can cross through Gateways at all.”

“Then…Florian Fane. We need to kill him?”

“Fane isn’t the one bringing the fiends here, Eda. That power is borrowed.” He met her eyes. “We need to kill Mr. Night.”

We need to kill Mr. Night.

Ben’s bloodshot eyes said more than a thousand words. Cloying dread crawled up her throat and veiled her eyes, making it hard to see through unshed tears. Kill Mr. Night. How? To even attempt it would violate the terms of their Pact. If they harmed him, he would be free to harm them, and Mr. Night would surely slaughter them in retaliation. They would need to strike a killing blow before he had the chance. How could they possibly—

“We’ll find a way,” she heard herself say. “We have to.”

“No.”

Standing at the foot of the stairs, as if he’d been there the whole time, Kit glared at them. His human guise was convincing, but the glowing orange of his eyes and his preternatural stillness made him an unnerving sight. He stood vaguely hunched, as though a crushing boulder weighed upon his shoulders. Tripp crouched farther up the banister, watching.

Eda ran to him. “Kit! You have powers. Could you heal Lawrie?”

His jaw flexed. “I possess no such ability.”