Thirty minutes later, I had several regrets.
Regret number one: agreeing to this trip without asking a single follow-up question.
Regret number two: not faking a sudden contagious kitchen plague.
Regret number three: sitting in the back seat of Leora's car next to Seraphine, The demon queen, Rhiannon's mother, who was currently glaring at me.
This was not the plan.
The plan had been: go to the market with Leora, bully some merchants into giving us a fair price on void-salt, maybe enjoy a mildly threatening coffee together, and go home.
Instead, the moment I'd stepped into the courtyard, Leora had been standing there with her calm little half-smile… and Seraphine at her side, all black leather and murderous aura, as if she had simply been summoned by the faint scent of potential stress.
"Change of plans," Leora had said. "Seraphine's coming."
And now here we were.
Leora drove.
Seraphine sat on my left.
I sat between my career and my death.
