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His eyes are still laughing at me. When I’m sure he’s not going to say anything else, I remove them.

We round a corner, and the bathhouse pool comes into view. I squeal at the sight of it and skip-run over, tripping only a couple times along the way.

I jump into the pool, sighing when the cool water slides against my skin. I was half worried that the water would be oppressively hot, but it carries the perfect chill.

I linger underwater, my siren perfectly content to stay down here forever. It might not be the ocean, but it’s water, and that’s good enough.

When I surface, Des sits along the edge of the pool, a knee hiked up. “I’m only letting you swim while inebriated because you’re a siren, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure you're incapable of drowning. Please don’t prove me wrong.”

“Pfft.” I swim over to him. “You should come in. The water’s nice. I’m even nicer.” I say, grabbing his hand and tugging.

“You know, you’re unbearably adorable, cherub.”

Awwww.

He smiles at me.

I think he can still hear my thoughts.

“I can.”

When the Bargainer doesn’t slide into the water, I release his hand and sink back beneath the pool’s surface. If he’s content to just watch me swim, then that works too.

Oh, and neat trick—if I’m underwater, I can’t blabber every single thought that crosses my mind. In fact, I’m pretty content to just lie here, at the very bottom of the pool, until the end of time. It’s a better alternative than the scorching midday heat that I can’t otherwise seem to escape.

After a minute or so, I rise to the surface once more.

“How long are we supposed to be here?” I ask.

It’s already evening, but just as night never lifts from Des’s kingdom, the sun never sets in the Day Kingdom.

“Ready to leave so soon?”

Does he sound pleased about that?

I nod.

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning, right after I meet with Janus.”

So, essentially, we’ll leave three days from now, once the meeting ends.

He leans in closer. “Have I mentioned that I like your sassy mouth?”

I swim over to him, folding my arms over the edge of the pool. I lean my cheek against them. The cold water is clearing my thoughts a bit.

“You know a lot of secrets,” I say, looking up at him.

The corner of the Bargainer’s mouth curves up. “I do.”

“But you don’t know anything about the Thief of Souls.”

“I knowsomethings,” Des says, a pinch defensively.

“Notthatmany.”

He presses his lips together, like he’s stopping himself from arguing further. Instead he rolls up his shirtsleeves, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of his tattoos.

Seriously, how is this guy not taking a bath in his own sweat?