Pissed and aghast, Nick gaped at her as he pulled out his Malachai sword, and expanded its size to fight as best he could. “Livia! A hand, please! You’re supposed to be one of my šarras, you know!” She shrieked and dodged. “I don’t fight hand-to-hand. I lead.… Other demons fight. Not me. Never me. That’s not what I do.” Now … now she tells me this? Really? Stunned, he gaped at her as he realized just how badly he’d chosen his partner for this venture. Wow. Talk about hindsight. And extreme stupidity. Lethal stupidity, for that matter. Bubba would be so proud. Or disappointed that Nick hadn’t paid closer attention in all those survival classes he’d attended and mocked Bubba for teaching. That’ll learn me for daring to make fun of others. Artemis was right. Payback was a cat. Nick fought back as best he could. Alone. “Out of curiosity,” he panted, between near-death blows. “Why were you chosen as a šarra, if you can’t, and don’t, fight?” She lifted her chin as if offended by what, to him, was an extremely reasonable question.
