Ian merely nodded a greeting at her.
“Oops. My bad,” she said with a lazy grin. “Next time you force-flash me, sugar, do us both a favor and land me straight into your arms.” She winked at Ian in a sultry invitation Halo didn’t believe for a moment.
Indecision tore at him. How was he to proceed with this harpire? He knew what he preferred to do—threaten her in order to draw out Ophelia, showing no mercy to accomplish his will. But he also knew what he couldn’t do—threaten the friend in order to draw out the harpymph, showing no mercy to accomplish his will. She would never pardon him; her loyalty wouldn’t let her. Though he shouldn’t care.
“How much has Ophelia told you about our situation?” He plucked the books from the harpire’s grip, even while holding her gaze, silently demanding a swift response.
“Only everything.” Another lazy smile bloomed. “Guess how much I’ll be telling you?”
“You realize your refusal is a detriment to her, yes? If you are not aiding me, you are aiding Erebus, and he wishes to kill her. I wish only to protect her.”
Delicate features scrunched with confusion. She scratched her temple. “Correct me if my math is off, but hasn’t Lady O died, like, three times on your watch?”
Guilt and shame collided, those invisible gears cranking on.
Needing a moment, Halo glanced at the harpire’s tomes. A highlight of Hercules’s labors and a manual titled How to Tell if Your Robot Lover Catches Feelings.
The labors. Because Ophelia knew she was linked to the monsters? Or because she still planned to aid him and earn her kill? The other book... Hmm.
“I will not let her die again.” He pushed the statement through clenched teeth.
“Let’s make a deal. Return my property and send me into Haronly with a message for our dear Lady O. Or...” Vivian ran a fingertip down the center of Ian’s chest. “You can feel free to torture the information out of me. FYI, I have a particular aversion to tongue-lashings.”
The corners of Ian’s mouth twitched. “I’ve known Halo for thousands of lifetimes, and I’m confident of his will in this matter. He wishes me to get started with that tongue-lashing immediately.”
How easily the male swayed from enforcer to seducer; a talent he’d always possessed. For once, Halo was envious.
He slid his gaze to the doorway blocking him from Ophelia. “Give her a message,” he told the harpire, handing over the books. “Tell her I...request a meeting. There will be no more mysteries between us.” He’d never stooped to bargaining before. But what other choice did he have? “In return, I’ll give her anything she wants.” I will? “Anything within reason that doesn’t jeopardize my task. Or any Astra’s task.” Best to be clear. “But she has only five minutes to come out and respond—or I will go in and get her.” The truce be damned.
Vivian winced with embarrassment for him. “She is sooo gonna outwit, outplay, and outlast you.” After blowing him a kiss, she pivoted and sauntered off, strolling into Haronly.
As he awaited a response, he paced anew. Ophelia would agree to his terms. She must.
“I’ve never seen you so flustered,” Ian said, watching him with unabashed curiosity. He’d always been an observer, the wheels constantly turning in his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Roc acted the same way with Taliyah.”
Halo quickened his stride. “The harpymph is a...shock.” Her irresistible pull kept him on edge—until he got his hands on her. Then, the treasured ease came for a bit. A time he stopped fighting everything he felt, his past no match for his desire.
“I suggest you handle the female with care from now on, my friend. To qualify for ascension, Roc had to win Taliyah’s heart. What if the same is true for you? For all of us? As I am learning, there is no greater force in existence than love.”
He stopped. Winning Ophelia’s heart. Her love. Yes! He liked this idea. She would cease running from him. Wouldn’t flinch from his touch. Best of all, the female of his most fevered fantasies would mind him. He would regain his focus, pass his tests, and do his part for the mass ascension.
Why hadn’t the harpy responded to his message yet? Ten seconds of the allotted time remained.
“I will do it. I will win her,” he vowed. Nine. Eight. The fastest and clearest path to success? Getting her into my bed.
Yes! This. Seeds of anticipation planted in the rich soil of his mind.
Five. Four.
He cast his gaze to the subrealm’s doorway, his heart racing. Three. His hands curled into fists. Two.
One.
The seeds withered, and up sprouted frustration, anger, and disappointment.
“Judging solely by Roc’s courtship of Taliyah,” Ian said, “your greatest chance of success is impromptu feasts your friends must rush to throw together, imprisoning your female for a short time and fingering her in public often.”