Radiant Shadows
Page 53
No discussion.
He had no idea where they were going, but in that instant, he set aside all thought. As long as she was alive, she was his responsibility.
My reason.
Mine.
As she wrapped a leg over him, his emotions slipped free from the last restraint. Letting down the walls that kept his very un–High Court emotions repressed had become easy around Ani. He liked it. It felt natural.
It is. With Ani, it’s the way it should be. With Ani is the way I… An untried emotion filled him. It wasn’t appreciation or lust; it wasn’t worry or protectiveness. Those were all threaded into it, but it was something else.
He felt her pulse race faster as they kissed.
A wave of exhaustion washed over him then, and he couldn’t focus his thoughts.
Abruptly, she pulled back. “No.”
She scrambled backward off the bed.
“Ani?” He held out a hand. “Have I offended—”
“No.” Her eyes were shimmering with the vivid green of the Hunt. She was the Hunt, and she could consume him.
He felt a thrill of terror.
She held her hands out as if to warn him off. “I can’t if you… just… no… not with you. You’re not safe if… You don’t know what I am.”
She ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
Ani sat on the dingy floor and tried not to shiver. She reached up and locked the door. It wouldn’t matter: neither of them would be even slowed by the lock—or the door, for that matter.
I won’t hurt him.
She could hear him on the opposite of the door; she could feel his emotions. Guilt. Shame. Fear. Worry. If she didn’t explain, he’d think he’d done something wrong.
“I can do this; I can tell him,” she whispered. Then she raised her voice and said, “Go to the other side of the room. Please?”
She waited for a couple moments, listening to him walking away. In the still of the room, she could hear his heartbeat racing. Like prey. It didn’t make her self-control any easier.
Slowly, she opened the door and took two steps forward.
He stood on the opposite side of the tiny room. His dangerous emotions were walled up again. “Did I injure you?”
Without meaning to, Ani let out a laugh. “No.”
His face didn’t betray anything. “I would never force—”
“I know that.” She sat on the floor with her back to the edge of the door frame. “It’s not you… I…”
Devlin stayed standing. “You don’t need to explain.”
Neither his voice nor his posture revealed any of the emotions she’d felt so clearly when she sat with the door between them, but she knew what he’d felt. He knew that she was aware of every emotion that had flooded him. Part of her wanted to pretend ignorance, but she wasn’t selfish enough to let him believe he was at fault.
To most people, yes, but not you, Devlin.
She sighed and started the conversation she didn’t want to have. “How did you feel after I kissed you at the Crow’s Nest?”
“It had been a long—”
“Exhausted?” She paused long enough to see him nod, and then continued, “Dizzy? Weak?”
“I am the High Queen’s Bloody Hands. I am not weak.” He scowled at her. “I’d had much to do of late, but—”
She interrupted again. “I drain the energy from faeries… and mortals.”
Devlin watched her, but he’d locked down his emotions. She hated the fact that he’d done so, almost as much as she hated that he hadn’t done so when they were kissing.
She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her folded legs. “If it’s emotion, but no touch, I do okay. If it’s touch, but no emotion, I do fine. Sometimes, though, when it’s both… I was drinking your energy that night, Devlin.”
For a long moment, he didn’t respond, and then he asked, “And tonight?”
Ani took a deep breath. “I could feel your emotions, so I stopped.”
“I see.” Devlin walked toward her. When he was directly in front of her, he knelt down on the carpet.
She lifted her gaze. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I do need to be well to keep you safe.” His voice was emotionless.
“That’s not why.” She closed her eyes. Having him so close was cruel.
His hand stroked her hair. “I am sorry I caused you upset.”
She opened her eyes to look at him. “I could kill you.”
“You could’ve just now,” Devlin whispered. “I don’t think I would’ve stopped you.”
She shivered. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she repeated. “I want… you.”
His emotions remained locked down as he ran his hand down her arm. “I talked to Irial.”
Few sentences could’ve startled her as much as that did. She stared at Devlin. “You…”
“He told me to be careful, but not why,” Devlin whispered. “I told him I wanted to take you away, to make you safe, and… he said only if it was your choice.”
“Oh.”
He leaned in and kissed her lightly, lips closed. “How deadly are you?”
“I could drain every faery I touch if they don’t know how to keep their emotions contained. I could funnel that energy to my court; I could feed them all.” Ani couldn’t hide her shudder. The idea of drinking down lives, of feeling bodies grow cold in her arms, was horrific. “Banan—she probably wants my blood for that reason. I’m not sure how, but if she could use it, she could feed on mortals, halflings, faeries…. Killing would be a way to feed the court. She likes killing.”
He had no idea where they were going, but in that instant, he set aside all thought. As long as she was alive, she was his responsibility.
My reason.
Mine.
As she wrapped a leg over him, his emotions slipped free from the last restraint. Letting down the walls that kept his very un–High Court emotions repressed had become easy around Ani. He liked it. It felt natural.
It is. With Ani, it’s the way it should be. With Ani is the way I… An untried emotion filled him. It wasn’t appreciation or lust; it wasn’t worry or protectiveness. Those were all threaded into it, but it was something else.
He felt her pulse race faster as they kissed.
A wave of exhaustion washed over him then, and he couldn’t focus his thoughts.
Abruptly, she pulled back. “No.”
She scrambled backward off the bed.
“Ani?” He held out a hand. “Have I offended—”
“No.” Her eyes were shimmering with the vivid green of the Hunt. She was the Hunt, and she could consume him.
He felt a thrill of terror.
She held her hands out as if to warn him off. “I can’t if you… just… no… not with you. You’re not safe if… You don’t know what I am.”
She ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
Ani sat on the dingy floor and tried not to shiver. She reached up and locked the door. It wouldn’t matter: neither of them would be even slowed by the lock—or the door, for that matter.
I won’t hurt him.
She could hear him on the opposite of the door; she could feel his emotions. Guilt. Shame. Fear. Worry. If she didn’t explain, he’d think he’d done something wrong.
“I can do this; I can tell him,” she whispered. Then she raised her voice and said, “Go to the other side of the room. Please?”
She waited for a couple moments, listening to him walking away. In the still of the room, she could hear his heartbeat racing. Like prey. It didn’t make her self-control any easier.
Slowly, she opened the door and took two steps forward.
He stood on the opposite side of the tiny room. His dangerous emotions were walled up again. “Did I injure you?”
Without meaning to, Ani let out a laugh. “No.”
His face didn’t betray anything. “I would never force—”
“I know that.” She sat on the floor with her back to the edge of the door frame. “It’s not you… I…”
Devlin stayed standing. “You don’t need to explain.”
Neither his voice nor his posture revealed any of the emotions she’d felt so clearly when she sat with the door between them, but she knew what he’d felt. He knew that she was aware of every emotion that had flooded him. Part of her wanted to pretend ignorance, but she wasn’t selfish enough to let him believe he was at fault.
To most people, yes, but not you, Devlin.
She sighed and started the conversation she didn’t want to have. “How did you feel after I kissed you at the Crow’s Nest?”
“It had been a long—”
“Exhausted?” She paused long enough to see him nod, and then continued, “Dizzy? Weak?”
“I am the High Queen’s Bloody Hands. I am not weak.” He scowled at her. “I’d had much to do of late, but—”
She interrupted again. “I drain the energy from faeries… and mortals.”
Devlin watched her, but he’d locked down his emotions. She hated the fact that he’d done so, almost as much as she hated that he hadn’t done so when they were kissing.
She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her folded legs. “If it’s emotion, but no touch, I do okay. If it’s touch, but no emotion, I do fine. Sometimes, though, when it’s both… I was drinking your energy that night, Devlin.”
For a long moment, he didn’t respond, and then he asked, “And tonight?”
Ani took a deep breath. “I could feel your emotions, so I stopped.”
“I see.” Devlin walked toward her. When he was directly in front of her, he knelt down on the carpet.
She lifted her gaze. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I do need to be well to keep you safe.” His voice was emotionless.
“That’s not why.” She closed her eyes. Having him so close was cruel.
His hand stroked her hair. “I am sorry I caused you upset.”
She opened her eyes to look at him. “I could kill you.”
“You could’ve just now,” Devlin whispered. “I don’t think I would’ve stopped you.”
She shivered. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she repeated. “I want… you.”
His emotions remained locked down as he ran his hand down her arm. “I talked to Irial.”
Few sentences could’ve startled her as much as that did. She stared at Devlin. “You…”
“He told me to be careful, but not why,” Devlin whispered. “I told him I wanted to take you away, to make you safe, and… he said only if it was your choice.”
“Oh.”
He leaned in and kissed her lightly, lips closed. “How deadly are you?”
“I could drain every faery I touch if they don’t know how to keep their emotions contained. I could funnel that energy to my court; I could feed them all.” Ani couldn’t hide her shudder. The idea of drinking down lives, of feeling bodies grow cold in her arms, was horrific. “Banan—she probably wants my blood for that reason. I’m not sure how, but if she could use it, she could feed on mortals, halflings, faeries…. Killing would be a way to feed the court. She likes killing.”
