A Poison Dark and Drowning (Kingdom on Fire #2)(49)

Returning to Blackwood’s at this time of night made entering through the front impossible, so we scaled the stone garden wall. Rook climbed it, catlike and lithe, and I floated up and over on the wind. The garden at midnight was lush and quiet, the fruit trees by the wall silver in the moonlight. I sat on a stone bench by the fountain, listening to the gurgling of the water as church bells tolled the hour, and Rook sat down beside me. The scent of lavender and rose should have made this the most romantic setting possible. And it would have been if I hadn’t wanted to throttle the boy I loved.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said gently. He was being so patient it made me want to scream.

“Like I can’t believe you’re running about in the worst parts of town at night, pummeling criminals? It’s a very specific look.” When he sighed, I could have exploded. “I don’t like being lied to!”

“Bit funny, isn’t it?” There was no anger in his eyes, only a kind of weary humor. “When you’ve done your fair share of lying.”

That stung. “I did it to keep us under the ward.”

“Which doesn’t exist now, so why should I worry?” He shifted in his seat to face me. My heart did a traitorous little flip at his nearness. “Why should I watch you court danger as I stay behind in safety?” Quiet shame tinged his voice.

“It’s the sorcerers’ job to protect the city.” I tried to sound soft and reasonable.

“They defend against the monsters outside, yes, but there are monsters in here as well.” His eyes blazed. “You know it’s true. That man with the bread was trying to feed his family. If I didn’t protect him, who would?”

I hated when he made this much sense.

“I don’t want you to risk yourself,” I murmured.

He put a cool hand to my face. “I don’t want you to do that, either, but I know it’s who you are.” He tilted my chin. “Please don’t get in the way of what I am.”

That was the difference. What he was becoming was monstrous. But should I tell him, You can’t protect people because you’re morphing into a hideous shadow demon? Somehow that seemed the wrong thing to say.

“Can’t you wait until Maria and Fenswick make a better treatment?” I asked. He dropped his hand.

“They make me sluggish and stupid.” His expression hardened. In the moonlight, I watched as his shadows danced along the garden path like living ink. Whispers slid past me, the whispers of dark things, monstrous things. Whenever Rook became frustrated, the blackness got worse. I held up my hands.

“All right,” I said, my voice easy. Slowly, the shadows and whispers died. Rook cleared his throat, bashful.

“I worry that you’re ashamed of me,” he said at last. Ashamed? I nearly laughed with the absurdity of it. “I do this partly so I can feel worthy in your eyes.”

“What do you mean?” I whispered.

He took my hand in his own, his skin growing feverish.

“I know that I must humiliate you,” he muttered. “Living in that fine house, on someone’s charity. You must see what a poor wretch I am, Net—Henrietta.”

“You think I care about fortune?” I swung between furious and happy. “You silly, ridiculous…thing!” I couldn’t think of the right words, or nearly any words. “Don’t you know me?”

“Did you call me silly?” He laughed, surprised.

“I love you, for God’s sake.” I nearly shouted it at him. There. The words were out. I clapped a hand to my mouth. What had possessed me?

“What?”

“I—I only meant—” Then I was silenced.

Rook swept me up and held me close against his chest. I could feel his heart beating, a quick tattoo that matched my own.

“Say it again,” he whispered.

“I love y—”

He kissed me, stopping my mouth.

I leaned into him, sliding my arm around his neck. This was madness. We were alone in the middle of the night, like some wonderful scene from a play. But this was no fantasy; no one was pretending. Rook was here, with me, his mouth on mine. At first, his kisses were gentle, feather-light. But then his arm circled my waist, and he deepened the kiss, driving me mad.

His hands trailed up and down my back. Our mouths opened, and I gasped when his tongue flickered against mine.

We pulled apart and I slid my fingers through his hair.

“I don’t believe it’s finally happened,” he whispered, his breath shaky. “I’ve dreamed of this for so long.” His kisses dusted down my cheek until he found my mouth once more. I put my hand on Rook’s chest, feeling the thundering of his heartbeat.

When I’d kissed Magnus, it had been wild, frenzied. This was like a homecoming, each kiss, each embrace, a reminder of where I belonged.

I looked into his black eyes, which shimmered with wildness and desire. Fear gripped me, and something else even more shocking: want.

“I don’t repulse you?” he breathed. No, the shadows and the scars meant nothing to me, not as long as he was here.

His shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbows, revealing a line of scars along his left arm. I took his hand and put my lips to his callused palm. Then, slowly, I kissed down his wrist until I found the scars, kissing them gently one after the other. His intake of breath was so sharp that I stopped.