“Zee said you have all the social graces of a water buffalo.”
What. A. Bitch. “That’s a load of bollocks.” Ursula said it confidently, but inwardly she knew he’d touched on something. How many foster families had she been through? Four? Five? She’d lost count. Even the people she’d loved had told her the same thing.
Rufus’s voice rang in the hollows of her mind: “The truth is, you’re a sad cow who won’t make anything of your life.” Hollowness welled in her chest. Worst of all was the dawning realization that this character deficit might explain her amnesia. Was she some sort of magical reject? Forced to forget her past and then cast aside because she put everyone off? Was it possible that no one had ever loved her?
She felt tears prick behind her eyelids. Bloody hell, Ursula. Do not cry. Do not cry. Not in front of Kester. She needed to prove she had both the skill and character to be a hellhound, or she could forget about that whole “self-preservation” thing.
“So—” Kester held up his hand and then laid his blade on the mat indicating that the sword-play was on hold. “Prove it.”
“Prove what?”
Kester stared at her like she was off her meds. “Prove that you know how to charm people. Look approachable.”
She scowled. “How am I supposed to prove that?”
“By not making that face, for one thing.”
She lowered Honjo and straightened. She pushed out her chest, smiled and cocked her head.
“Much better, but your smile doesn’t look genuine. You’ll need to soothe him. Keep him from panicking.”
Ursula felt a familiar heat rise within in her. First, she had to force people to sign away their souls. On top of that, she had to condemn them with a lullaby, cooing at them as she consigned them to hell? How much would she end up hating herself if this was the person she was to become? But she couldn’t say that out loud—not to Kester.
“Put down your sword.” Kester stepped closer, his green eyes drinking her in. “Ask me to sign the pact.”
She tucked her sword in the corner of the room before straightening her shoulders. She tried to force a pleasant smile onto her face. “You just need to sign here.” She pointed to an imaginary pact in her hand, using a firm but gentle voice, like she was a police negotiator convincing a suicidal man to step away from the edge of a bridge.
Kester answered in a perfect impression of Hugo’s posh British accent. “No I don’t want to sign. This must be some sort of stunt. Are you having me on?”
“This is not a stunt. Hasn’t your career taken off since you asked Emerazel for her power?” The content was good, but Ursula stumbled over the last few words.
He continued to ape Hugo’s accent. “I’m not doing it. I’m not giving my soul away.”
“You have to. You agreed to the bargain.”
He shook his head. “Relax your shoulders. You’re supposed to look alluring.”
“How did you do it, when you broke into my kitchen? I was ready to bash your head in with a frying pan, and then the next thing I knew, I wanted to do whatever you wanted.”
“Some of that was my natural charm, but some of it was magic. It’s taken me a long time to learn how to bend people’s wills, and I’ve honed the skill well. You were surprisingly resistant to my influence. I don’t encounter that often.”
“I’d had a very bad day.” She eyed him warily. “You can mind-control me?”
“It’s not something I use unless I must. In any case, you don’t have that skill, so you’ll have to rely on your charms.” A smile played over his lips.
“And my razor-sharp wit.”
“Right. Get on with it.”
She closed her eyes, trying to remember how Kester had approached her in her kitchen. His intense eyes had slid all over her body, like he was memorizing each one of her curves. He’d somehow managed to project strength and temptation at the same time. Gazing at him, she stepped closer, letting her eyes trail over his strong arms, and down the front of his shirt for a moment. Just inches from him, she stared up at him, eyes wide and innocent.
He leaned in, whispering in her ear. “Closer.”
She pressed forward, relishing the heat that radiated from his body, and his delicious scent—cedar and fresh earth. It wasn’t hard to feign attraction.
She stared into his eyes. “If you sign now, you’ll get everything you ever wanted. Everything you could desire for the rest of your life.” She had no idea what possessed her, but she traced her finger down the front of his chest, feeling the hard body underneath.
His breathing sped up, and he grabbed her hand, his fingers burning. “That’s good. But you don’t need to touch him. Not if you don’t want to. You only need to lure him in.”
Her body grew hotter, and she could feel her cheeks flushing. “I guess I’ve got the silk thing covered.”