He gave her a long look. “And she’s a good guy?”
“Yeah, and despite everything I just said, she’s so damn interesting. Anyway, she found a story in one of the books she’s had since she was a little girl.”
“Like a hundred and fifty years ago.”
“Like that. I’m going to tell you what she told me, and why she believes, and Keegan believes, and everyone who’s heard the story now believes it was about Odran and how he got the demon inside him.”
Halfway through, Marco held up a hand. He went into the kitchen, brought back the wine bottle.
When she finished, he got up again to take out the roast and let it rest.
“I’m trying not to let this put me off this really good meal I’ve got going. You don’t maybe think the whole eating-that-girl-demon is like a metaphor?”
“No, sorry. I think it’s literal. A virgin—naturally—demon who could take any form she wished. He wanted that power, the demon element to add to his own. I don’t know if she was the first he cannibalized, but I doubt she was the last.”
“So he’s the Hannibal Lecter of gods?”
“Only you, Marco. Besides, he wouldn’t bother to chase it down with a nice Chianti.”
“But the demon inside him is evil.”
“Because he is, because he corrupted it.”
“And this mark deal, the scar, whatever it is?”
“Is—maybe—a way in, a way out. A weakness.”
“A way out for what?” he countered. “The demon? Now you’ve got some evil demon with evil god innards all over it. How’s that an improvement?”
“Would it be evil if released? I don’t know, Marco.”
She pressed her fingers to her eyes. They’d gone from talking cookbooks and publishing to demons.
“I wonder if it’s like releasing the trapped souls in the ruins, if thisis like that. Something I’m meant to do. I can’t know until… until I do what I’m supposed to do, however I’m supposed to do it.”
She shoved at her hair. “Meanwhile—I forgot all of this—they’ve worked those cracks into every portal from Odran’s side.”
“Like in the waterfall one?”
“Yeah, like that. Except for the Welcoming Tree, which can’t be breached. And Keegan— Wait, he’s coming now. I’ll let him go into all that battle-tactics stuff.”
“Fine. If he’s here, Brian won’t be far behind. We’ll have dinner while he explains.”
Marco rose. “And you get to tell him about your book.”
“It’s not sold yet. And you get to talk about your cookbook.”
“It’s not writtenorsold yet.” He just pointed at her. “But we’re talking about it, all of it. It’s good news, so we share it. We got plenty of the weird and strange, so we share the good along with it.”
“All right.” He’d argue it out of her anyway, she thought. “I’ll tell him.”
“Tell him what?” Keegan demanded. “I hope some of the telling is Marco saying whatever he’s got for dinner is ready, as I’m more than half-starved. Brian’ll be along by the time I wash up.”
“You’re in luck there.” Marco lifted the roast onto a platter and began to surround it with potatoes, carrots, celery, onions, all roasted in herbs and the juices.
“Well now, that looks fairly amazing.” Keegan scrubbed his hands in the sink. “If I hadn’t been told Seamus started your garden, I’d have smelled it. So you don’t have to tell me that. Is there more yet?”
“Breen’s agent loved her book. The new one,” Marco added while Breen rolled her eyes. “The one she just sent in.”