Isak rubbed his eyes and then glared at her, relaxing a fraction. "Oh, it'syou."
"If I'd been an assassin, you would have been dead by now," she remarked, shifting in the chair.
Isak's eyes darted from her to the top drawer in a chest across the room, and Maia gleefully filed that away. So his valuables were there. She'd use that against him.
"There are no assassins in Eosantha," he replied, rough from sleep and the demons in his dreams. "What do you want?"
"You know what I want," Maia pointed out.
"Me at your whim and mercy?" Isak replied, a smirk tugging at his lips as he gave her a suggestive look. "That can be arranged, dove."
Maia bared her teeth. "I'd rather touch fire."
Isak's smile grew to a grin.
Maia cut it off dead, ignoring the flash of heat in her lower belly. "Jaromir's been searching for you for years. You know that's why he joined Azrail and his rebels, right? Because it gave him a way to look foryou, gave him more resources than he had on his own."
Isak's eyes lost their sultry heat, but he didn't stop smirking. Maia knew the ultimate defence mechanism, and she was immune to every smirk, laugh, and sneer. "I don't need to hear his story from you. He can tell me himself."
"You do need to hear it," Maia argued. "I know you've had a shitty life to say the least, but you're not the only one, and I won't let Jaro suffer again."
Isak's brows bunched, and he crossed his arms over his bare chest. Maia tried not to look at the battle-honed strength and definition in his body.
She got to her feet and moved as if she was heading for the stairs, lurching towards the dresser at the last minute.
"Don'ttouch that," Isak growled, his beast in the sound as he jumped out of bed.
His stick thumped the floor twice, then he caught her arm, but not before Maia wrenched the drawer open and prepared to pilfer whatever it contained. She let out a huff and a sigh when she found only a worn, creased painting. It was the type of tourist-y thing sold in Vassalaer by street artists, this one of two redheaded kids with creased-eyed grins and matching velvet dungarees.
Maia looked at it another moment and handed it to Isak, feeling prickly and soft and annoyed about both.
"You love him," she sighed. "But you won't help me protect him? I need to do something about this saints' circle, or bad shit is going to come right for us—for me and Jaro, and for everyone else. Even you, with your saint. Hi, Viskae, by the way."
"She says not to trip on the way down the stairs," he replied with a sigh.
"Noted."
Maia crossed her arms over her chest, annoyed that she'd been knocked off kilter. She faced Isak, keeping her gazefirmlychest up. She knew damn well what was swinging around down there and had no interest in catching a glimpse. Well,nextto no interest.
"Like it or not, we're all involved in what's happening on that island. We're not the only saints; did Viskae tell you that?"
"The dark saints," Isak said, pressing his lips together. “The ones who refused to give up their power and be reborn.”
"The plural of that name is worrying as hell," Maia replied, putting distance between them and leaning against the wall beside the staircase. She could catch him if he tried to run. "But yeah. I met one of them, and I don't recommend it."
Isak's brown eyes went wide. "How in the chasm are you alive?"
Maia shrugged. "My mates came for me. And I'm deadlier than I look. That's not the point. Iknowhow bad the dark saint is, and I'll do anything to keep my mates away from them.Anything. So tell me the truth."
Vawn shook his messy dark head, slumping back on the bed. "You don't know what's out there, and you're insane for not listening to me."
"I felt it," she said through gritted teeth. "Earlier tonight, my soul was there—don't ask me how—and Ifeltit. Which is why we need to go there andshut it down.So, either you tell us where it is, or I'll force you to take us there."
Isak's eyes flashed. "Try it."
Maia let her tongue vibrate with a soundless song, but the hairs raised on her arms when a presence swelled—the Graceless Swan, she presumed. She ignored it, sending a spear of snaresong magic into Isak's mind—and met a solid iron wall.
"Like I said," Isak said, unfriendly. "Try it."