Shock stills me. I search his face, his aura, for proof this is a bluff. All I find is the deep violet of resolve threaded with the pale mauve of relief. He means it. I don’t know what to make of this puzzle of a man. Maybe I should cut his throat and be done with it. Except that would break Azazel’s contract. Time moves differently in this realm, and it’s entirely possible that he hasn’t yet fulfilled his part of the bargain to save Ryland and the others and deliver them to Mina. I tell myself that’s the only reason I do what I do next—I can’t afford to let that happen. I toss the dagger
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