I laughed and slowly pushed to my feet. “I hope the demon didn’t eat Crash.”

I picked up the flashlight as I headed back to the door, just as Feish pushed her way in.

Her greenish-yellow eyes went wide as saucers. “You . . . what are you doing here?”

“Oh, just killing demons and looking for a ride.” I put my knife back in its sheath, ridiculously proud of myself.

“DEMON?” Feish clutched at her heart and dropped her basket of goods to the floor. “Oh boy, Boss is going to be pissed.”

She rushed past me and I did a slow turn. Crash was here? How had he not heard me yelling? Even asleep . . . unless he was hurt? No, he wouldn’t be hurt. He was some big scary dude that even the Hollows Group had a healthy respect for. As quick as my concern came, it was gone in a flash of understanding that Crash didn’t need me to protect him.

I grimaced and did a quick look for Robert, but he’d slid away once more. The room changed as Feish hit the lights—so to speak. The urns lit up, but they were scattered on the floor, smashed to the ground. Feish started doing quick little turns, cleaning up.

I put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “You should check on your boss. I’ll clean up out here.”

She gave me wobbly, tear-filled eyes. “I don’t want to wake him. He will be so angry.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I’ll wake him up. I was yelling and screaming earlier, and he heard nothing.”

Mind you, there was a small part of me eager to wake the blacksmith. He’d only have a sheet on again, no doubt.

One small perk. With what I would only say was a bounce in my step, I headed for the back room I’d been stuffed into on my last visit.

The door was shut tightly. I knocked once. “Crash?”

Nothing. I put my shoulder against the door and pushed. The base of the door screeched across the wood floor, as though splinters were being pulled up.

The room was lit with a few candles, which was completely unsafe, especially in a sealed-off room like this. No one would know it was burning down until he was dead as a doornail.

“Crash,” I called to him from the open door, secretly hoping he wouldn’t wake up.

No movement from the bed though there was the distinct shape of a body under the sheet. He was breathing, the rise and fall of his chest obvious even this far away. So not hurt, not dead.

Good day for me. Grinning, I strolled across to the edge of the bed and bumped the mattress with my knee. “Wakey, wakey.” Nothing. “Really? Jaysus, you sleep like the dead.”