He loves making me uncomfortable. “You know it would be weird. I mean, after I healed you.”
He opened a metal canister, scooping out a measure of corn flour into the batter. “You can calm your fluttering heart. I’m not your stepbrother. The few remaining incubi are enslaved in Maremount. All the succubi have been killed. In fact, the entire city is built around the Lilitu fountain, where the last remaining succubus was killed. Her petrified head spews the town’s drinking water. A few incubi were kept around for the pleasure we provide. You and I were not of equal standing in the Atherton household.”
“Atherton.” It struck her suddenly that she hadn’t ever known her own birth name. “Rosalind Atherton.”
“Lady Rosalind Atherton. It has a nice, noble ring to it.”
“And you were some kind of slave? I don’t remember a boy in chains.” That didn’t suit his imperious nature at all, though neither did the fact he was cooking her breakfast. She watched as he pulled out a steel skillet, turning on the burner to melt a hefty dollop of butter. “How could they keep you enslaved?” He was far stronger than any human.
He shot her a perplexed look. “Magic. I wore an iron collar, charmed by a powerful sorcerer. Your father.” He salted the batter before pouring a thin layer into the hot pan.
Her stomach turned. Every new tidbit she learned about her parents only made her dislike them more, but she was still desperate for more information. This was the first conversation with Caine where he was actually willing to divulge information. Still, she knew if she pushed too far, he’d shut down. “If you’re half-incubus, does that mean your father was a full incubus? Did you know him?” she asked. Shit. That was probably too personal.
The look he shot her iced her veins. “Just because I’m making you food and teaching you magic doesn’t make us friends. You need to keep up your strength so we can achieve our objectives. That’s all.”
“I didn’t say we were friends,” she shot back, too exhausted to come up with a better retort. His rebuke stung, though she had no idea why. He’d already warned her not to trust him, and he’d offered nothing more than an uneasy alliance. That was all. “I get it. You’re very mysterious and you don’t like personal questions. So tell me about my own parents. Why were they so eager to experiment on us?”
He flipped her cakes onto a plate and slid them across the table. “They wanted you to be the most powerful mage Maremount had ever known. It was a time of turmoil for the city, and they wanted to take advantage of it.”
“Lovely people,” she said drily. She picked up a fritter, biting into it, her mouth exploding with the rich, buttery tastes. “Mmmmm.”
Thunder cracked outside, and the room darkened further. She glanced at Caine, his skin warmed to a deep gold by the candlelight. “Tell me, is Maremount still in turmoil?”
He leaned on the countertop, holding a fritter. “No. A war broke out a few years ago. Eventually, the monarchy was overthrown.”
“Were you involved in the fighting?”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “Is there a reason you need to know that?”
She swallowed a mouthful of her breakfast. “Right. No personal questions. But do you know what happened to my parents?”
He paused for a long time, and she almost wondered if he hadn’t heard her. “We didn’t stay in touch.”
Considering they’d ruined her life in the quest for power, she wasn’t sure she even wanted to see them. Still, she felt an overwhelming urge to ask Caine what had gone so horribly wrong that her parents had shipped her off to the Brotherhood. But the last time she’d tried to pose that question, his eyes had turned black, and he’d nearly murdered her. She took a large bite of the corn cakes, and her mouth rejoiced. “This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten. I think I could die happy after this.”
His face changed, and he flashed a brilliant smile. She’d never seen him smile so genuinely before, and his beauty nearly took her breath away.
Rosalind swallowed. “Was I nice to you and the other servants?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “You used to dump things on the floor just to have the servants clean them, and you only referred to them as Servant, never by name. But you were only four, so it was hard to take you seriously. Especially since you couldn’t pronounce anything properly, so it sounded like you were calling them swabents.”
She shielded her eyes with her hands. Oh, gods. I was a nightmare. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
Something struck her about the way he’d phrased that. He’d referred to the servants in the third person. Was he not among them?
He swallowed a bite of his fritter. “Truthfully, you were a horrible, spoiled brat.”
“I’m so sorry.”