“I see you’re making yourself at home.” He leaned against the door frame, staring at her. “I would ask how you learned to wield a sword like that, but I’d wager you have no idea.”

“You’d wager right.” She turned and pointed the sword at him. He stood ten feet away, and she could be there in two steps. Before he’d have a chance to blink, she could bury the sword in his chest. After stopping his heart, she’d just take the elevator to the ground floor and disappear into the New York City night. Would it be so hard to start over as a waitress in New York?

But something stopped her. It wasn’t just his pretty face. As insane as he sounded, Kester had actually been telling the truth. Magic is real. She’d seen him transform into a hound, summon a shadow stalker, and whisk them to New York through a flaming sigil. She felt it when she lifted the sword, and what was more, some sort of magical fire now flowed in her veins. And if Kester was telling the truth, that meant there was no escape from Emerazel and her infernal flames.

She lowered the blade, wiping the makeup below her eyes on the back of her other wrist.

If Kester suspected that she’d just run through the pros and cons of stabbing him to death, his face didn’t show it.

He nodded at the sword. “I see you’ve acquainted yourself with my friend Honjo Masamune. I know he’s quite charming, but he can wait until morning. Dinner is served.”

With a heavy sigh, Ursula crossed to the racks, placing the katana in the empty spot. Until we meet again, my friend.

Chapter 10

Kester led her down the hall, past the sigil room, and pulled open the door to a dining room. A domed ceiling arched impossibly high above them, painted with a fresco of dryads and centaurs. Mahogany cabinets displayed antique porcelain and crystal glassware. In the center of the room, a silver candelabra cast warm light over the rich wood of a banquet table. Two place settings lay in one corner, along with a pair of domed silver trays.

Ursula’s back stiffened. I’ll just have to pretend that I don’t normally eat a dinner of beans and toast in front of a TV.

Kester crossed to the head of the table. “Have a seat.”

Instead of sitting in front of the tray, she pulled out a chair on the opposite side, giving herself a clear view of the door. She needed to know if anyone else was going to slip in here.

He arched an eyebrow. “A little nervous, are we?”

Reaching across the table, she dragged over the other place setting. “I like a view of the door.”

“In case an intruder comes in?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time tonight.”

“What is that?” He nodded at her hand.