A Den of Tricks (A Shade of Vampire #54)(37)

“Of course,” I continued, “I would reciprocate. I’d accept him. I’d… love him, both his good and bad sides. I just can’t get more specific because, to be honest, I’m still trying to figure it out. I’ve never been in love with anyone before, Heron. I don’t know what that’s supposed to feel like, exactly. I also know I’ve got a very long life ahead of me, and I just don’t see myself rushing into anything…”

That was my defense mechanism rearing its not-so-pretty head. Alarm signals went off whenever I looked at Heron, opposing the butterflies squirming in my stomach and the frantic beats of my heart. He nodded slowly. I caught a glimpse of what seemed like disappointment in his eyes as he looked down and scratched the back of his neck.

“That… That makes sense,” he muttered.

I stilled and caught his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. Something felt a little off.

“What’s up?” he whispered.

“I think we’re being followed,” I replied, then looked over my shoulder.

The street was getting crowded with dozens of Imen of all ages. There must have been a gathering of sorts nearby. I started walking but didn’t let go of Heron’s arm. We slipped through the stream of people and made a sharp left turn, hiding between the walls of two neighboring houses.

The space was narrow, forcing Heron to stand extremely close to me. His chest pressed against mine, and I felt the heat from his hard body simmering into me. Our proximity seemed to affect us both, as he lowered his head slowly. I was looking to the right when I felt his breath on my cheek and turned my head, my nose touching his.

I found myself drowning in his jade eyes. His hands rested on my hips. The world gradually dissolved around us, and I found comfort in the shield of his body for a few moments. We stayed like that for what seemed like eons, until his lips inched closer and almost touched mine. My heart jumped in my throat as I struggled to breathe. I wanted him to kiss me—so badly that I nearly missed Lemuel’s scent getting stronger.

“He’s here,” I croaked, my lips parting beneath his.

Heron was losing control, but he tried to make sense of what I’d just said, while his eyes were fixed on mine.

“Wha… What?” he managed.

“Lemuel is here. He’s coming this way,” I whispered.

He lifted his head and looked out into the street. His arm shot out just as an old Iman passed by us. Heron grabbed him by his lapel and pulled him into the tight space with us. Lemuel whimpered as Heron immobilized him, pushing him against the wall.

Our little hiding spot was suddenly even more crowded, and I was too close to Heron for my mind to stay clear—and that was a challenge, because we’d just found Lemuel, as he’d followed us around. I shook my head and forced myself back into focus.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” I said softly.

Lemuel squirmed and tried to free himself, but he didn’t stand a chance against Heron. The old Iman froze when he realized he was dealing with a Mara. The horror on his face was almost heartbreaking—this creature was terrified of Heron’s kind, and I knew it had something to do with the Exiled Maras.

“Don’t… Please… I wasn’t looking to do any harm…” Lemuel breathed, his eyes wide and glassy. He was in his late sixties, tufts of white hair poking out from beneath his dark brown hat, wrinkles drawing shadows across his features. His body trembled with fear, and I put my hand on his shoulder to try to calm him down.

“We’re not going to hurt you, I promise.” I felt the need to repeat myself. “Why were you following us?”

“I saw you coming out of my house,” Lemuel replied, his voice barely audible. The crowd in the street was quite loud—a mixture of laughter and friendly words as the Imen praised the quality of a play they’d just watched, based on the fragments of theater-related conversation that trickled into our nook. “I just wanted to know what you were looking for…”

“We were looking for you, Lemuel,” I said, keeping my tone as gentle as possible. “Cynara and Hera told us where to find you. We need your help.”

“I… How could I possibly help you?”

“We need to see the Imen archives you’ve been keeping away from the Maras,” Heron replied. “The girls told us you’re quite the collector.”

“How… How did you know? Did they tell you? How did you know to ask them about…” Lemuel’s voice trailed off, and his jaw dropped. “Hera and Cynara willingly told you? How is that possible?”

“Because they wanted to help us help them… help you, and every other innocent creature in this city,” I said. “We need to read those archives; we need to understand what the Imen know about the daemons, in particular. The Maras don’t know anything, and they’re getting killed off one by one by these monsters. We’re going to end this, once and for all, but we need all the information you can give us about them.”

“But… But it’s just old wives’ tales… folklore, legends, and myths… I don’t know how it could help.” The old Iman shook his head slowly.

“It doesn’t matter. We need to read everything you have,” I replied. “Please, you have to help us. We have a shot at bringing this to an end, but we need your help.”