Finn glanced at my hand, and then his gaze skipped to the demon.
I flipped a mental switch, and a handful of flickering flames kindled in my palm.
Aldric’s grin widened—a farce of childhood joy. “Kastor is going to love her.”
“Kastor?” I said, and Finn gave me the smallest, subtlest shake of his head. The “he” from Pandemonia who wanted to see Maddock was Kastor?
Finn looked sick. I’d told him in confidence that Kastor—whose name the former Deacon of New Temperance had invoked to scare us—had stolen Grayson’s brother from a Church caravan. But Finn had never mentioned that he knew this demon that other demons feared!
“You told her about Kastor?” Aldric said, then he read the answer in my expression. “You haven’t told her. Yet she knows something. . . .”
“Kastor is the wolf,” I said. And we were the sheep.
At least, that’s how Deacon Bennett had put it. She’d seen the Unified Church as a shepherd, slaughtering only the sheep they needed to survive, while the wolf, she’d claimed, would butcher us indiscriminately.
“Yes, the wolf.” Aldric’s eyes narrowed as they studied me. “I don’t suppose you own a red hooded riding cloak?”
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