“I hope you slept well,” he said. “Might as well get comfortable for a while since you’re apparently staying here.”
“I slept fine.” There was no way she’d be staying, but she’d wait a moment before bringing that up. “I take it you’re not thrilled about having me here.”
He leaned against a granite countertop. “As it happens, I have better things to do than to train a novice Hunter in the dark arts. Especially a noble-born girl who will go into hysterics every time things get a little difficult.”
Arrogant prick. Everything about him irked her. “That’s fine by me, because I’m not actually going to train with you. I’ll be out of here as soon as I get… everything sorted out.”
“And what do you expect to sort out? Do you have a plan now? Or still just a desire?”
Her stomach rumbled. How was she supposed to come up with a plan with a stomach this hollow? “I have a strong desire for some food.”
“I don’t keep the house well-stocked. I’m not exactly the cooking type. When Aurora gets up, we’ll go out somewhere.”
“Is she your girlfriend?” Rosalind asked.
He arched an eyebrow, crossing to the living room. “No. Interesting that you asked though. I seem to recall you saying I’m not your type. I’m not sure that I believe you anymore. You’ve now inquired about our family affiliation and my relationship status.”
She failed to suppress an eye roll. The ego on this guy is unparalleled. “You’re probably glamoured, just like my Guardian said. Under your demigod facade, I’m sure you look like a beast.”
He flashed a half-smile. “Is that so?”
She flushed. Why did he make her so nervous? She usually made men nervous, not the other way around. “It’s basic witch-lore. Magic pollutes the body and turns humans into monsters.”
“Demigod, was it? Tell me, what is the most impressive part of this beautifying spell I’ve woven? Do you think I did a better job on my face or my body with this—demigod spell? I’d really love to hear more.”
Her stomach fluttered. Shit. Josiah hadn’t been wrong about the disfigurement, had he?
She gritted her teeth. “Please tell me it’s a spell. Because based on the number of mirrors around this place, I’m a little worried about what would happen if your ego grows any bigger than it already is.”
“Can you blame me for loving something that’s so—demigod-like?” He cocked his head contemplatively. “That phrasing is unwieldy. Let’s shorten to godlike.”
“If self-love had mass, yours would create a singularity that would warp space-time and destroy the universe.”
“Has anyone ever said you’re charming when you talk about science?”
“No.”
“Unsurprising.” He folded his fingers behind his head, in all likelihood trying to give off the best view of his muscled arms. “If you don’t believe me about the glamour, why don’t you spray that purgator dust on me? If it’s a spell, you’ll see the real me. The demonic, twisted Caine that lurks below the surface, warped by magic.”
“Since you have an aura, the dust will burn you.”
“I can handle a little pain.”
“Anything for your vanity, right?”
She snatched her purgator dust from the coffee table, pausing for a moment at the self-satisfied smirk on his face. This would hurt—a lot. What if the agony flipped a switch in his brain? He could slaughter her in an instant.
Still, maybe now was a good time to practice that whole fear-mastery thing. She had to get used to hurting the bad guys.
She strengthened her resolve and pushed the button. Shiny red dust poured from the canister, coating his skin. A flicker of pain registered on his face, though in reality he must be withstanding indescribable pain. All this to prove to her that he was pretty.
And, gods damn it, he was right. The guy was stunning, and it wasn’t because of magic. She sucked in a breath. “Fine. We’ve established that you’re not deformed.”
He brushed the dust off his face. “I think we agreed on the term ‘godlike’.”
Rosalind wanted to hide her face. This was mortifying.
As the last of the sun dipped below the horizon, Aurora strode into the room, clad in a tight silver dress. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing to Caine, Hunter?”
“It’s fine,” Caine said. “I asked her to do it.”
Aurora crossed her arms. “I don’t even want to know.”
Caine rose, visibly trying to manage the pain. He soaked a kitchen cloth in water and began cleaning himself off. “Would you like to help me clean off my body, Rosalind, since you’re such a fan of my godlike physique?”
Gods, kill me now.