Page 94 of A Dangerous Bargain

And we were always better at getting in and out of trouble together than we were apart.

“You must be wondering why I’m here,” I say conversationally as we edge toward an alley funneling into the endless gray. The one line from the piazza free of horrible little cat eyes.

“I was wondering, yes.” Niccolo’s voice stays light even as a demon swipes at his ankle.

“I need your help. I’m searching for a demon I met in Florence. She has a plan to destroy the Medici and needs me for it.” We can’t change the past. We were wrong about each other, but if we work together, perhaps we can finally set things right.

Niccolo lets out a horrified gasp. “You befriended a demon?”

“I can handle demons.” I fist my hands and turn my forearms toward him. Each one of my black marks looks freshly cut into my skin, even the oldest ones that faded to charcoal. “She’s not like the others.”

“You grew up.” His face grows sad. “I wish I had been there to see it.”

I bump his shoulder and smile, not wanting to tarnish however much time we have left with more dark feelings. “I had a good example of who to become. Even if he was a bit of an idiota sometimes.”

“Maybe a lot of an idiota most of the time.”

We pick up the pace. The cats all follow, some on foot, some flying from rooftop to rooftop. Behind, I hear the whump whump whump of something far larger than all the others pounding after us. I truly, sincerely hope that Niccolo knows where he’s taking us.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself! ’Tis the law of nature for older siblings to be bested by their younger siblings eventually.”

His mouth quirks. “Oh, is that so?”

“Yes. Giovannia’s become absolutely terrifying. Father should’ve made her his heir.”

His face splits into a wide grin. His glow is so bright now, it’s barely visible. “God, I wish I could see her again.”

Then he grabs my hand and we run.

The demons screech—the cacophony like nails on stone, discordant and jarring, the wrongness rattling my teeth in their sockets. The whump whump whump grows louder, shifting to our left instead of behind us.

The giant cat-demon bursts out from the next cross street.

I gasp, only Niccolo keeping me from stumbling. The cat-demon is somehow even bigger than before, its black wings big as frigate sails. It lowers its head and snarls, tail lashing and punching a hole in the nearest wall.

I duck beneath a flying brick and cut to the right. My bones grind in Niccolo’s too-hard grasp. My lungs burn, on the very verge of ripping.

The Arno River rises before us, a single, small boat bobbing at the end of a dock. But we’re too slow, the demons all too fast. Some already hover over the dock.

WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP!

Fetid warmth streams over my skin. I hit a cobblestone wrong. A sharp, splitting pain twists my ankle.

I fall. My scream turns into a choking wheeze as the air is forced from my lungs.

The cat-demon hisses above me, another wave of its putrid breath making me cough.

I only see the curved claw for a split second before it plummets toward my heart.

There’s socket-wrenching pressure in my shoulders, and then I’m blinking against the explosion of cobblestones, forced to my feet as Niccolo heaves me half over his back.

“Nearly there!”

My brother half drags, half throws me the last few feet onto the dock.

I flip over and scramble backward on my elbows, gasping for air, still waiting for another one of the knife-claws to pierce my ribs.

But the giant cat-demon has stopped. It paces at the dock’s edge, paws a millimeter from the wood. It hisses, tail lashing furiously.