I felt a sudden surge of resentment at Williams and Kara. They’d walked me right into making an enemy of this terrifying creature.

No, to be fair, they hadn’t asked me to look through the strait. They’d asked me to look into it. The rest I’d done myself, damn it.

Limu accepted a glass of wine from Hank and leaned back, slowly twirling the stem between his molten fingers. He sipped, then set down his glass, as though dissatisfied with the wine.

“You have something of mine. I have come for it.”

“Do I?” Cordus said. “I was not aware. What is the item?”

“One of my people.”

Cordus waited. Obviously that wasn’t much of a description. Instead of elaborating, Limu let out a rumbling growl, flexing his hands as though they were cramping.

“Do not play with me. Give her to me.”

Cordus shrugged. “So far as I am aware, those standing behind you are the only members of your household in my lands at this time.”

“Fool! Always the same with you — games and playthings. Give her to me. The one calling herself Justine Jenson Ryder. Now.”

Cordus leaned back, crossed his legs, and began slowly bouncing his foot.

“If Mrs. Ryder is the person you mean, then we have nothing to discuss, My Lord. She has been living in my lands for at least twenty years. I have no reason to believe she belongs to you.” He glanced up at Limu. “Unless she bears your stricture, of course.”

“She does not,” Limu said, seething.

“Then what possible claim can you have upon her, my honored guest?”

“She is my wife.”

I saw Cordus’s eyebrow go up. I know I was shocked. In what state of mind would Justine marry a being made of fire? I was pretty damned scared just being in the same building with him, much less the same bed.

“Is she, indeed? My congratulations. Nevertheless, marriage does not constitute ownership.”

Cordus’s tone suggested boredom.

Apparently Limu didn’t care for it. Enraged, he threw his head back and roared. The sound was an avalanche of rocks and iron crashing down an endless slope. A fountain of yellow and white fire surged out of his mouth and flowed over the ceiling as though it were liquid. Near the living room door, Williams made a quick circular motion, then closed his hand into a fist. As he did, the fire boiled back in on itself and winked out, leaving a large scorched area on the ceiling. A wisp of smoke was left curling in mid-air.

I sat there, stunned. It was like death had come visiting, then been sent packing, all before I had time to react.