Sabine slipped through the window and into the bedroom. Malek whirled around, a knife in his hand as though prepared to strike. She paused, tilted her head, and gave him a small smile.
“Expecting trouble?”
Malek lowered his knife, his expression turning curious. “Always. But I’ll take your brand of trouble instead.”
She made a noncommittal noise. Malek’s bedroom was an attic room over the main floor of the tavern, but larger than some rooms Dax rented out to guests. Both beds appeared to have been used recently, leading her to believe Levin, Malek’s first mate, shared the same quarters. It made sense, especially if they didn’t trust Dax. And only a fool would trust a demon implicitly.
Sabine walked over to the bed closest to Malek. “I haven’t been up here in years.”
Malek put away the
