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chapter six. the devil you know
"What is it you ... Have you offer?"
Her speech was wooden, the words tumbled, almost as though he had impelled her to speak them. Yet, her hadn't. The decision had been all her own.
Gods, she could curse herself. He was clearly some kind of a devil, not the type to be trusted. Fallon had heard stories of such approaches. She'd never believed the speakers. What kind of business did devils have with the likes of mouthy drunks and would-be artisans? A citizen of the Nine Hells would surely approach someone more important. A person worth gambling with.
Now here Fallon was. She needed to know what this all meant.
Besides, she could've asked for worse company. The man was elegant. Regal. His jaw might've marked him with heroism, if the eyes hadn't betrayed him — cold, dense. His clothes were finely tailored, with a hint of the theatre to them; most striking was his waist, banded in iron, etched with three horned devils. Between him, the room, and the spread, Fallon could've made a killing on the market, yet it was not her thief's eye, but her own shabbiness, that informed how she held herself.
"Excellent. It seems we can come to the table. If you would ..." He gestured for her to take a seat. Fallon carefully obliged, though she watched him as he circled the table, taking the seat opposite her own. "My, aren't you a natural. And a napkin."
It was crimson silk, shining with embroidery. She held it before her. Table etiquette had hardly been on the curriculum of becoming a thief.
"Your lap," he said.
She nodded, spreading it in place. Then they sat in silence. Her stomach growled, clenched. She realized he was waiting for her to eat. It'd been nothing but small game and bruised vegetables for days. Fallon began to load up her plate, tentative, then greedily. All this food, so much food, and so rich.
But just as she were about to take a bite, she remembered herself.
"How do I know this won't do something to me."
In response, the man leaned forward. He plucked a grape from a cornucopia of fruit in the center of the table and placed it against his tongue. She could hear the burst of juice in his mouth. Her saliva quickened.
"But ..."
"You would be no use to me, cursed or harmed or fallen afoul."
"Then I would be of use to you in some other way. That is why I'm here."
