A Den of Tricks (A Shade of Vampire #54)(8)

“I trust you will, at some point,” I replied, then looked through another sketchbook, finding more drawings of daemons, one of which was massive and frightening enough to give me nightmares. “I’m sorry for your losses tonight, Lord Kifo. I’ll do my best to punish those responsible.”

A faint smile crossed his lips as he moved forward, leaving only a couple of inches between us. With him so close, I could see ribbons of gold emanating from him, like shimmering tendrils that warmed my face and chest. The jade pools in his eyes darkened, and he slowly lowered his head.

“Thank you for your blood tonight,” he breathed. “Pyrope is a rare and beautiful gift for someone like me.”

“It was the least I could do.” I shrugged, the last part of his statement slipping past me for a second. “I mean, you healed me earlier, too, and I… Wait, Pyrope?”

My eyes widened as it all fell into place. He was right. I’d given him my blood, with my full consent. It wasn’t exactly a pact, but still, the act of willfully giving him my blood could easily qualify as Pyrope. What had Jax told me about it? He did it with Zeriel, in return for his service, and Maras would sometimes engage in it with their non-Mara lovers.

Oh, dear…

Why was my mind rushing to the “non-Mara lovers” part, instead of the part regarding “services rendered”? Zeriel had paid with his blood when Jax saved his life.

Caspian gave me a soft smile, his lips inching closer to mine. Was that why he was suddenly so warm and gentle with me? Had my choice of giving him my blood changed the way he looked at me to such a dramatic extent?

“I mean… it’s not technically Pyrope, is it?” I mumbled, as my heart performed a series of somersaults, kicking my stomach in the process.

“Not technically, but by a very loose definition,” he replied, blinking slowly.

He seemed to look right into my soul, and the golden aura around him seemed to intensify. My lips parted, mostly for me to breathe some air in, as I was getting a little lightheaded with him so close to me. His gaze dropped and his head moved an inch forward.

I froze, understanding right then and there that I wanted him to kiss me. Caspian Kifo, the mysterious and icy Exiled Mara I knew very little about. The seemingly ruthless leader who repeatedly saved me and even gave me his blood to heal me. The creature who had perfectly mastered the art of both drawing me in and pushing me away. I wanted him to kiss me.

But his lips never touched me.

Instead, his eyes found mine again as he took a deep breath, and the chills returned. He moved back and put the notebooks back in the metal box at my feet.

Caspian was flipping on me again. I could see dark green and red ribbons strangling the gold ones, his emotions shifting from what seemed like… affection, to something akin to distrust and pain, or anger. The red was particularly difficult to identify. My mom and dad never had trouble reading other people’s feelings. Neither did Serena. They were able to interpret the colors with great precision, yet I was struggling with Caspian.

My inner sentry growled as he walked over to another corner, resuming the search. My shoulders dropped and I breathed out, slightly irritated—not so much by his hot and cold flips, but by my reaction to his close proximity. I was clearly into him, and that came with problems in a world like Neraka. What were the chances something would even happen between us?

Close to zero, maybe?

And why am I thinking about this? About him? Damn it, Harper, snap out of it! You have a mission to focus on. People to save. Come on!

One thing was still clear and impossible to refute at this point: Caspian owed me a question. I was better off channeling my energy into that. Asking the right question of the one creature on this planet who seemed to know more than everyone else was crucial.





Caia





(Daughter of Grace & Lawrence)





Patrik prepared the charm satchels and red paint we needed to expand the protection spell into the underground and to redo the symbols that Harper had painted at the top level, along with the invisibility paste for Fiona.

I put them all in my backpack and checked my pockets for lighters. The chances of another daemon attack so soon after the explosions were minimal, but I couldn’t risk it.

Patrik walked over to the dead daemon still lying on the table in the infirmary and muttered something under his breath. A soft golden light began to emanate from the creature’s body as it was lifted a few inches above the table. He then took several rolls of bandages from a nearby cupboard and proceeded to wrap the daemon from head to toe.

“What are you doing, Patrik?” I asked, as Fiona swallowed the invisibility paste.

The Druid gave me a brief look before he resumed his work of carefully wrapping the creature.

“I’m preparing both bodies for their funeral,” he replied. “Minah will join the procession tomorrow, but the daemon will need to be put to rest elsewhere. I’ll most likely incinerate him in the morning before everyone else comes out.”

“Why are you bothering yourself with giving the daemon a funeral service of any kind? He was a killer, a monster.” Fiona frowned, slowly disappearing as the spell took effect.

“Because it’s in my nature as a Druid.” Patrik sighed, rolling the daemon’s levitating body over as he unraveled a second bandage roll around his massive torso. This was a job for at least six rolls, judging by his size. “We honor life, no matter who it belongs to. Even the fiends back home—the Destroyers and the incubi that sided with Azazel and perished… We said a few words for them, too, when we burned their bodies outside Luceria. All life is precious, and all loss of life is tragic, regardless of how one’s time in this world was spent. Besides, daemons are worthy opponents and ruthless warriors; they deserve a sliver of decency, unlike the Sluaghs back on Calliope…”