I nearly snorted at the irony of this statement. Everything about Casimir disarmed me, and no blade or weapon on Earth was strong enough to shield me from his influence. I averted my gaze, afraid he might decipher the dangerous vein of my thoughts through my expression.
“I didn’t expect you to rob me right after Devereaux glamoured me!” I said, a little defensively. “And I wouldn’t havestabbedyou for being a Daemon.” I didn’t see any reason to reveal I had, in fact, forgotten about my dagger when he’d dragged me into an alcove outside of the Tusk that night. Gods, he could be so dramatic.
“Wouldn’t you?” he muttered. “Look—in case you still have any kind of heroic nonsense still rattling around in that unfortunately large brain of yours, I want to make one thing clear.” His expression hardened. “You are not equipped to stop the Order. You are not to go anywhere near them.”
Indignation flared inside me, and I opened my mouth to retort, but Casimir plowed on, “Even if you are immune to Evren’s glamour, the others are another story.” He moved closer, forcing my back to press into the chair. “Veronika is not to be underestimated, either. As an Alchemist, she may not steal bodily autonomy like Devereaux, but her powers enable her to wield magic in ways the others cannot fathom. Evren, too, is more than capable of harming you, even without the use of his glamour. Don’t underestimate any of them.”
“You’re just trying to scare me,” I said, my tone matter of fact.
“Yes,” he replied. His shoulders sagged, as if he was relieved I’d caught on so quickly. “Is it working?”
“No,” I gave an arrogant toss of my head. “Maybe the Order shouldn’t underestimate me, either.” What Casimir didn’t know was that I had another secret weapon besides the silver dagger stowed at my hip.
Casimir stared at me like I’d gone completely mad. “You know, I had been planning to quit, but clearly I’m going to need every ounce of stress relief at my disposal. He muttered darkly as he placed a cigarette between his lips and lit the tip. “I can’t leave you alone for more than a few hours without you finding yourself in mortal peril.”
“I’m not the one in mortal peril, August is! And you could always—oh, I don’t know—leave me the hell alone?” I snapped. “As a Daemon, perhaps you’d be wise to avoid interfering with the fates of mortals.”
His lips twitched in amusement, but he shook his head. “Can’t do that, I’m afraid.”
“And why not?”
“I would’ve thought it was obvious,” he said, dragging on his cigarette, infuriating, insufferable bastard that he was.
Frustration stabbed at my temples like the onset of a migraine. Despite knowing I’d probably regret boasting about my secret, the impulse to wipe that condescending smirk off Casimir’s lips was too tempting to deny.
“You needn’t worry,” I informed him, relishing the cold triumph rising in my chest. “As it happens, Devereaux and Evren aren’t the only ones with extra abilities.”
Casimir’s eyes narrowed and his brows drew closer together, torn between curiosity and irritation. “I don’t believe you.”
“That’s your prerogative, I guess,” I shrugged. “Well, if that’s all, I have some reading to get back to.” Doing my damnedest to ignore him, I trained my gaze back to my book.
But Casimir made no move to leave. He merely stood there, the ash from his cigarette falling steadily onto the carpet. I could almost feel the waves of frustration rolling off him as he simmered over whether to give in.
“Fine, I’ll bite,” he gritted out. “Tell me your secret, Farrow.”
I calmly turned to face him, even as the intensity of his gaze threatened to wrench me apart. It felt like a glamour, the way he could pierce through my hardened exterior to the soft underbelly lying just beneath. Clouds of smoke wafted up through the stacks before they dissipated. I hardened my resolve.
“Alright, I’ll tell you. But first, you have to swear to help me get August away from the Order,” I said.
“Absolutely not!” he growled, earning several filthy looks from a group of students a few rows down.
“Look,” I hissed, steeling myself for an argument. “You want to stop the Order from completing whatever sick ritual they’re planning—don’t bother denying it, I saw it written all over your face back at the Tusk—and I want to stop them from killingAugust. We’ll have a better chance of achieving both if we work together.”
“Why do you care what they do to him?” he demanded.
I stiffened under the heat of his contemptuous expression. “Don’t worry about my motives.”
He snorted at that. “And how,” he said, leaning closer, “do I know you’re not bluffing about your so-called ability?”
I met his flinty gaze. “You don’t.”
He huffed out a disbelieving laugh, dragging a hand through his wild curls. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”
But he was tempted, and sorely. Curiosity burned in his umber gaze, and I knew then that I had him. Just the small possibility that I wasn’t bluffing was too tempting to pass up.
His features twisted into a reluctant expression. “The last time I made a bargain with someone, it didn’t end too well for me,” he confessed.
“You can trust me because we want the same things. We both want Devereaux gone. I know you have your own reasons for hating him, whatever they might be.”