Page 31 of Speak No Evil

I’m ashamed to say that when it came, I hid.

I bend to look Chonk in the eye. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, do you hear me?”

I should have helped my woman. Should have kept the bad thing from making her red water flow.

Tears prick the back of my eyes as the meaning of his odd phrasing clicks.

Red water.

Blood.

“Oh, Chonk. None of this is your fault. Please don’t blame yourself.”

And you should do the same.

“What? I don’t—”

No, but you carry the blame for every choice you made that led to Blackwood being pulled from the safety of nullspace. You blame yourself for being captured and for having an emotional response. None of those are your fault.

I stare at him, dumbstruck. When did the orange fatty get so smart? “I won’t if you won’t.”

He narrows his eyes at me before agreeing, then struts toward whatever corner of the basilica he fancies, tail high and purring.

And I stay put, stewing in what just happened.

That was...

Strange.

Good.

But really fucking strange.

I stare at the wall for a while, waiting until the world doesn’t feel so heavy, and the knot of emotion melts from my throat.

When it finally does, I decide I need to find the demon lords to inform them of Noah’s part in all this.

I don’t know if he was still in the temple when they arrived, but I’m making damn sure he’s formally abjured from Blackwood.

Instead of tracking them all down in this oversized church, I decide to bellow like a banshee for them.

Demon hearing is superior to a witch’s, right?

“LORDS!” I holler loud and long from the bench, and before the first echo reaches me, each of the three demon lords portal in beside me.

“I see you’ve all got your magic back and are already breaking rules with it.”

Vrahs reaches for me before thinking better of it and letting his hand fall to his side. “It’s my rule. I can break it if I desire.”

“Our witch calling trumps any house rule,” Thorne adds.

“Yes, and I made friends with a sushi chef, so Chonk has the finest cuts of fresh yellowtail and salmon since he led us to you.”

I ignore the two previous comments and address Ryker’s. “Jesus, Ryker. Chonk doesn’t need sushi-grade fish. He’s fat enough and on a special—”

“Yeah, I know. But I don’t care. He saved you, and in my book, that earns him Jabba The Hutt amounts of sushi.”

I mean, I guess I can’t really argue with that.