“Will she?” The demon leaned forward to study me through narrowed eyes.

“How am I supposed to know that?”

Bennett frowned. “I saw your mother’s body. It wouldn’t have degenerated so quickly if your genetic gifts had come from her, so they must have come from your father. Your birth certificate names your mother’s late husband.” She opened the file on the table in front of her and glanced at the first page, then dropped the cover back into place. “Oliver Kane. Melanie’s reads the same. But if the late Oliver Kane had been an exorcist, or even a healthy normal man, he probably wouldn’t have died of…”—Bennett opened the file again, though that was probably just for show—“pneumonia, at the age of twenty-seven. The prevailing theory on your father’s death is that your mother poisoned him.”

I shrugged, trying to look like I was unaffected by hearing about the murder of one of the few people in the world who’d ever shown me kindness. “Sounds like he got off easy.”

“Who was your real father, Nina?” She looked straight into my eyes, and I could practically feel her hunger—for both my soul and my information. “More important, was he Melanie’s father as well?”

“Why should I answer that? What’s in it for me? Or for Mellie?”

“Nothing.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest again. “Tomorrow you’ll be on your way to Umbra, where the prelate will…well, he can’t exactly wear you, after your picture has been all over the news and you’ve been declared possessed. But I have no doubt he’ll find some use for you before he sees fit to turn on the camera and light a match. If you hadn’t already been sterilized, you might have been able to prolong your life by around nine months so your genetic gift might be passed on. But my point is that your fate is sealed, as is your sister’s. Her child, however…”

My voice came out low and more threatening than I’d ever heard it. “You’re threatening to kill my sister’s baby if I don’t cooperate?”

“I’m promising to let it live if you do.”

“Not good enough. I don’t want him raised as a ward of the Church. I don’t want him ordained or consecrated. Ever.”

Bennett’s eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened. “Fine. The baby will be sent to a children’s home somewhere outside of New Temperance.”

I studied her face for one long moment. Then I listened to my gut. “You’re lying. If Melanie’s an exorcist, her child might be too, and you won’t lose him. Which means I have no reason to answer your question.”

Bennett leaned back in her chair. Then she smiled slowly, an expression absent of warmth. “It was worth a shot.” She shrugged, and the gesture looked foreign and careless on a body I’d never once seen cast off the restraints of authority and formality. “We are a patient species. We’ll lock her in a cell for two years and see for ourselves.”