He gritted his teeth. “Thanks for the assessment.”
Her expression cleared as she came to some conclusion. “That’s your big plan, then? Repression?” She scoffed. “It won’t work.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The rage, Belial. I can sense it in you even now, simmering under your skin. It’s delicious. You’re trying to repress it with whatever disciplines you’re forcing on yourself. An admirable effort, but it won’t work. Repression never works.”
“I didn’t summon you to play psychologist,” he snapped, hating how his gut clenched at her words. Hating how easily she read him. “Can you help me with Mishetsumephtai or not?”
She shrugged. “He is Paimon’s slave. Why should you want to rescue him from her lair?”
“Can you do it or not?”His voice thundered around the room, and the burning in his eyes told him hellfire flickered in them.
Naiamah’s head came back. “My, my, aren’t we feeling testy?”
“I’m warning you—”
She held up a hand to silence him. He hated, fuckinghated, that he immediately shut up.
Something about her… She’d always known how to set him on edge, how to make him ride the high of the rage until it consumed him. Every memory he had of her was also one of him giving into the darkest, worst parts of himself. She weakened his control. She made him more volatile and impulsive.
She was the embodiment of everything he hated about himself, and therefore, the thing he despised most in all creation.
“I’ll offer you some free information, so pay attention. If you’re looking for someone ballsy enough to go against Paimon, Murmur is your guy. They’ve been enemies for a long time.”
Belial blinked. It was not what he’d expected to hear. “Why would the Necromancer care about Paimon?”
She wagged a finger. “Nuh-uh. You want anything else, it’s going to cost you.”
“Fine. For the price of one favor, I want you to find a way to get Mishetsumephtai and the two mortals out of Paimon’s lair—alive—and that includes answering my questions now.”
Her lips pursed. “Answering the questions is pushing it. There’s no real reason you need to have all the information for your favor to be completed.”
“The information is how you convince me you’ll do the job properly.”
Her lower lip stuck out. “Or I could say no.”
“You don’t get to say no,” he snapped. “One hundred unspecified favors remaining, remember? You’re lucky I don’t make you do something worse.”
“Oh, the ‘worse’ favors I’ll do for free.” She fluttered her eyelashes.
“Don’t push me, Naiamah.”
“Fine. But this”—she gestured up and down his body—“self-restraint thing you’ve got going on? It’s not a good look.”
A growl was his response.
She pouted. “Okay, okay. With his army of souls, there aren’t a lot of places the Necromancer can’t go if he wants to, nor are there many wards that can keep him out. I don’t know why he hates Paimon, but he’s always had a hidden agenda. He’s a powerful seer, but as far as I know, he never shares his visions, so no one knows what he’s up to. He doesn’t make allies, and he doesn’t spill secrets, so I have no idea what goes on in his mysterious head. But I do know he wants to take her down.”
“And? Can you get him to help?”
“He’ll have a price. And he’s a shady bastard who is not to be trusted. He’ll say one thing to your face and then turn around and do the opposite. He’ll help you up only to kick you down himself. Never turn your back on him because there’s a good chance he’ll stab you in it.”
Lovely.That sounded like exactly what Belial needed right now on top of everything else.
“Whatever he wants, it has to be fast. The mortals are in the lair as we speak, and I don’t have time for negotiation.”
“That means his price will be high. Your best bet with the time constraint is to offer a favor.”