The temperature of the air in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. “Why?” Ivan hissed.
“I have a friend in there. He deserves a chance to be summoned.”
“Even if it fucks with all my plans?”
“We don’t even know if he’ll get summoned,” Nix reasoned. “It’s not like your shy little cousin knows how. He just…deserves the chance. If the Book’s locked away, he’ll never even get it. You can’t summon another demon anyway.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
Nix hadn’t thought to, actually. For all his experience with desire, Nix didn’t have much experience with partnership.
Maybe Ivan wasn’t the only one bad at communication.
Ivan’s fists clenched at his sides at Nix’s silence. He looked like he wouldn’t mind wringing Nix’s neck, but for once he kept his hands to himself. “And is this friend of yours likely to be a threat?”
“Um…doubtful?” Nix hedged. “He might set a few fires here and there, but it’s unlikely he’d be much interested in Mafia business.”
“A few fires,” Ivan repeated flatly.
“Only if he gets bored?”
“Of course.” Ivan stepped back, turning away. “I’m going to finish getting dressed. Make yourself presentable. We’ll be leaving in a half hour.”
Nix’s heart sank at the dismissive tone in Ivan’s voice. He didn’t even sound angry anymore. But what little warmth Nix had coaxed out of him—the little cracks in Ivan’s armor he’d fought so hard for—was all gone.
It seemed like, after all that teasing, Nix had finally managed to truly piss Ivan off.
11
Nix
The car ride to Maine was about as icy as could be. Not the roads—it was still too early in the season for snow, Nix was sorry to note—but Ivan himself.
“Why couldn’t you just break into Coop’s place and have a little look-see for the Book?” Nix asked once again. He’d been ignored his last two attempts, but he was hoping the third time was, in fact, the charm.
They’d gone to Cooper’s apartment building after he hadn’t picked up Ivan’s calls, but there’d been no answer at his door. Apparently Ivan’s shy cousin hadn’t been at home.
“His security is insane,” Ivan finally answered, his hands clenching hard enough on the steering wheel to whiten his knuckles. They’d left sweet Oleg behind, in the hopes that his presence in the city would suggest to Sergei that Ivan had remained in New York, and Ivan was driving them. “I can’t break through it without help, and we don’t have time for that.”
His eyes stayed straight ahead even as he spoke to Nix. As if he was too focused on the road to even glance Nix’s way.
Except Nix knew better.
Nix, for his part, was slouched in his seat, his legs up on the dashboard despite Ivan’s insistence they remain on the floor. If he was going to be given the cold shoulder, he was at least going to be annoying about it.
So, okay, maybe he should have realized this would be a big deal to Ivan, considering how adamant he’d been that Sascha not hold on to the Book. But Nix had thought it was more about Ivan’s fixation with his brothers than actually wanting the damned thing close.
Nix narrowed his eyes at Ivan’s hands on the steering well. He didn’t like them there. At least, not both of them—one of them should have been on Nix’s thigh, gripping tightly. That was theirthing, even when Ivan was pretending to not be into it. He’d fake indifference, but his actions would say otherwise.
Now, though, Ivan’s actions were sending the message that he didn’t give a flying fig if Nix was there or not.
It made for a very long drive to Seacliff.
An eternity or so later (wherein Ivan wouldn’t even allow Nix to listen to some decent music on the radio, too busy stewing in frigid silence), they arrived at a sweet-looking coastal town, eventually pulling up to a Victorian home not far from the downtown area.
It was Sascha who opened the door, his eyes wide in surprise even as Kai loomed over his shoulder, all big and blue and horned—meaning he’d heard them coming and knew not to bother with a human disguise.
Apparently he hadn’t had time to inform Sascha, because the human was gaping. “Ivan… What—?”
