A Dance with Darkness
Page 5
“Evantia,” the second man said in a cool tone. “We will have the dagger when we know where it is. I have a lead on it already. My subordinates are also looking into it.”
His voice was familiar and I had to see who had entered the room with me.
The first man asked callously, “You would trust others with something this vital?”
“I have to question your judgment,” Evantia said.
“Their loyalty is infallible, as is mine,” the second man said.
Evantia huffed. “We shall see.”
I tried to peek between the curtain and the wall to see their faces. I pinned my body against the wall so I wouldn’t have to rustle the curtain aside, but that got me nowhere. I lifted a hand slowly and pinched a fold of the fabric between my fingers and moved it, but the ears of the demonic reapers were too keen.
“What was that?” Evantia barked under her breath.
“I’ll have a look,” the second man offered. “I’m certain it’s nothing. A mouse.”
Fear coiled in my throat like a serpent as footsteps neared me. I held a hand out, prepared to call a sword. That voice belonged to someone I knew, I was certain of it. But no. It couldn’t be—
Bastian yanked the curtain aside and his eyes captured mine. His mask was gone, revealing the beauty of his face in full. He stared at me and I stared back. I didn’t breathe, didn’t speak, didn’t attack, and it took a long moment for me to realize he wasn’t doing any of those things either. Then a ripple went through him and any surprise he’d had was replaced with amusement.
“Not a mouse,” Bastian said as a smile grew on his lips. “A wolf. An emerald-eyed wolf.”
“Very entertaining,” Evantia snarled, clearly dismissing his answer. “You’re both entirely useless. Let’s return to the ball, shall we?”
“You go ahead,” Bastian said, his gaze unwavering from mine. “I think I’ve had enough of the party.”
“Suit yourself,” she replied. “Geir, come with me.” A few moments later she and the other demonic reaper were gone, leaving Bastian and me alone.
4
THE WAY BASTIAN SEEMED ON THE VERGE OF laughing rather than strangling me was perhaps more unsettling than if he were actually strangling me. Despite being demonic, he was terribly beautiful. It was almost painful to look at him without admiring him.
“Now that you have me cornered,” I asked, “will you kill me this time?”
“That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind,” he replied.
“You’d better run off after Evantia,” I said. “She’s sure to miss you.”
One of his eyebrows lifted curiously, as if he could possibly be more amused. “I hope you don’t think she and I are involved. I should like to kill her.”
“Oh,” I said. “She seems rather unpleasant.”
“You have no idea.” He seemed to melt then and his gaze roved over my face. “What are you doing back here?”
I tilted my chin high in defiance. “Investigating.”
“Investigating what? The embroidery of the curtains? It is quite nice.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, unable to ignore his sarcasm. “What dagger does Evantia want?”
“What dagger indeed?”
“Don’t play games with me. Is it a relic?”
“Why would I reveal that information to a little angelic sleuth? Do you honestly expect me to?”
I didn’t, but I had to ask anyway. “I’ll find out on my own.”
“I beg you not to,” he said, the humor wiping clean from his tone. “There are many of us and only one of you. I wasn’t joking when I said you were foolish for coming here. You are hunting for death, despite your tenacity, which I do respect.”
His closeness set my skin on fire and it was a struggle for me to take slow, even breaths when all my heart wanted to do was race. “Why didn’t you tell them that I was hiding here?” I asked.
His eyes darted back and forth between mine. He inhaled slowly. “You would not have made it out of this room alive.”
“Why would you care?”
The space behind the curtain was very narrow and though there was a halo of cold air emanating from the window, my body was scorching from anticipation and something else. Bastian’s body brushed mine, and he surprised me when he closed the distance between us even more as he settled a hand on my waist. His eyes, bright in the darkness, followed the path of his other hand across my bare collarbone. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t—would not—stop him. My lips parted and my chest pushed against his hand as I drew a deep, trembling breath for air. With that hand he traced a trail up my throat and along the edge of my jaw. The backs of his fingers brushed my cheek.
His demonic power lit tiny sparks of fire on my skin and made me shiver as if I were cold. I’d felt the touch of the demonic during fights, but one had never … caressed me before. His touch made me restless, made me want to jump out of my skin. He felt the way a bath did when the water was just a little too hot, hot enough to sting and turn your skin pink, but for some reason the burn felt wonderful. That’s what it felt like when Bastian touched me.
“Tell me your name, She-wolf. I beg you.”
His sultry tone was making my head spin. “Well, it’s not ‘She-wolf,’ so stop calling me that.”
“I’d like to call you by what everyone else calls you.” His lips pressed to my cheek and a hot, falling sensation seared through my belly. “Or perhaps I’ll name you myself, and your name could be our secret. I would very much like to share a secret with you.”
His voice was familiar and I had to see who had entered the room with me.
The first man asked callously, “You would trust others with something this vital?”
“I have to question your judgment,” Evantia said.
“Their loyalty is infallible, as is mine,” the second man said.
Evantia huffed. “We shall see.”
I tried to peek between the curtain and the wall to see their faces. I pinned my body against the wall so I wouldn’t have to rustle the curtain aside, but that got me nowhere. I lifted a hand slowly and pinched a fold of the fabric between my fingers and moved it, but the ears of the demonic reapers were too keen.
“What was that?” Evantia barked under her breath.
“I’ll have a look,” the second man offered. “I’m certain it’s nothing. A mouse.”
Fear coiled in my throat like a serpent as footsteps neared me. I held a hand out, prepared to call a sword. That voice belonged to someone I knew, I was certain of it. But no. It couldn’t be—
Bastian yanked the curtain aside and his eyes captured mine. His mask was gone, revealing the beauty of his face in full. He stared at me and I stared back. I didn’t breathe, didn’t speak, didn’t attack, and it took a long moment for me to realize he wasn’t doing any of those things either. Then a ripple went through him and any surprise he’d had was replaced with amusement.
“Not a mouse,” Bastian said as a smile grew on his lips. “A wolf. An emerald-eyed wolf.”
“Very entertaining,” Evantia snarled, clearly dismissing his answer. “You’re both entirely useless. Let’s return to the ball, shall we?”
“You go ahead,” Bastian said, his gaze unwavering from mine. “I think I’ve had enough of the party.”
“Suit yourself,” she replied. “Geir, come with me.” A few moments later she and the other demonic reaper were gone, leaving Bastian and me alone.
4
THE WAY BASTIAN SEEMED ON THE VERGE OF laughing rather than strangling me was perhaps more unsettling than if he were actually strangling me. Despite being demonic, he was terribly beautiful. It was almost painful to look at him without admiring him.
“Now that you have me cornered,” I asked, “will you kill me this time?”
“That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind,” he replied.
“You’d better run off after Evantia,” I said. “She’s sure to miss you.”
One of his eyebrows lifted curiously, as if he could possibly be more amused. “I hope you don’t think she and I are involved. I should like to kill her.”
“Oh,” I said. “She seems rather unpleasant.”
“You have no idea.” He seemed to melt then and his gaze roved over my face. “What are you doing back here?”
I tilted my chin high in defiance. “Investigating.”
“Investigating what? The embroidery of the curtains? It is quite nice.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, unable to ignore his sarcasm. “What dagger does Evantia want?”
“What dagger indeed?”
“Don’t play games with me. Is it a relic?”
“Why would I reveal that information to a little angelic sleuth? Do you honestly expect me to?”
I didn’t, but I had to ask anyway. “I’ll find out on my own.”
“I beg you not to,” he said, the humor wiping clean from his tone. “There are many of us and only one of you. I wasn’t joking when I said you were foolish for coming here. You are hunting for death, despite your tenacity, which I do respect.”
His closeness set my skin on fire and it was a struggle for me to take slow, even breaths when all my heart wanted to do was race. “Why didn’t you tell them that I was hiding here?” I asked.
His eyes darted back and forth between mine. He inhaled slowly. “You would not have made it out of this room alive.”
“Why would you care?”
The space behind the curtain was very narrow and though there was a halo of cold air emanating from the window, my body was scorching from anticipation and something else. Bastian’s body brushed mine, and he surprised me when he closed the distance between us even more as he settled a hand on my waist. His eyes, bright in the darkness, followed the path of his other hand across my bare collarbone. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t—would not—stop him. My lips parted and my chest pushed against his hand as I drew a deep, trembling breath for air. With that hand he traced a trail up my throat and along the edge of my jaw. The backs of his fingers brushed my cheek.
His demonic power lit tiny sparks of fire on my skin and made me shiver as if I were cold. I’d felt the touch of the demonic during fights, but one had never … caressed me before. His touch made me restless, made me want to jump out of my skin. He felt the way a bath did when the water was just a little too hot, hot enough to sting and turn your skin pink, but for some reason the burn felt wonderful. That’s what it felt like when Bastian touched me.
“Tell me your name, She-wolf. I beg you.”
His sultry tone was making my head spin. “Well, it’s not ‘She-wolf,’ so stop calling me that.”
“I’d like to call you by what everyone else calls you.” His lips pressed to my cheek and a hot, falling sensation seared through my belly. “Or perhaps I’ll name you myself, and your name could be our secret. I would very much like to share a secret with you.”
