But getting involved with an incubus was a terrible idea, and he’d just said it himself: he wasn’t her friend. He was only working with her because it was what Ambrose wanted, and because it served Nyxobas’s goals. If she started to think of him in any other way, she’d only turn into another one of his jealous maniacs.
And more than that, she could never forget the darkness lurking inside him. Even if she’d changed her mind about the sharp divisions between good and evil, demons were fundamentally different from humans. A part of any demon’s mind would always see humans as toys to manipulate and use.
“Get some sleep.” As he walked to the door, he whispered a spell, and the curtains closed, shrouding the room in darkness. He gently closed the door behind him.
She crossed to the bed, pulling off her boots. She still wanted to know who Miranda was. Caine’s girlfriend, probably.
She slipped out of her pants, leaving them in a crumpled pile on his floor. No point mulling it over now. She was a warrior, and had a job to do.
She slid into his bedsheets, pulling the duvet tight around her shoulders.
She closed her eyes, and the pounding rain lulled her into sleep. Her mind offered up an image of Bileth, stalking through Salem’s winding streets on a pale, white horse, hooves clopping against the pavement. As he approached, a drumbeat sounded, slow and deep, rumbling through her gut.
Rosalind stood with Caine, holding his hand in the cool moonlight, while Bileth walked closer, his eyes burning red. When he grinned, Rosalind felt horns grow from her head, her teeth lengthen. A knife appeared in her hand. Bileth howled, and forced Rosalind to jam the knife into Caine’s neck, plunging in and out until blood soaked her body.
Her eyes snapped open, and she gasped, her heart pounding. Caine had warned her about dwelling on her worst fears before sleep.
What if Caine knew the incubus she’d hurt? Her pulse raced. She’d have to tell him. A part of her wanted to tear through the hallway and confess everything, but she was terrified of what he’d say.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes again. This time, she imagined Caine’s strong arms around her, his aura caressing her skin, soothing her muscles. His bed smelled like him—the heady scent of fresh earth after a rainstorm. She shouldn’t let herself think of him like that, but she was too exhausted to fight it. The sensation of his presence was so vivid that it almost seemed real, like his perfect body was pressing against hers in a warm embrace, and she melted into the illusion.
She drifted off to the sound of the rain battering the windows and steep-peaked roof. She dreamt of a hawthorn grove, with a ground blanketed by falling petals.
Chapter 25
A banging noise jolted her from her sleep, and she sat up.
“Rosalind.” Caine shouted through the dark, his voice urgent.
She threw the covers off, suddenly alert, and jumped out of bed. “What’s going on? What time is it?”
He sparked the candles, and for a moment, his eyes trailed over her bare legs. “Bileth is near, and you need to leave before he finds you.”
Her pulse raced. “Where is he?”
“He’s a few streets away. The house is invisible to him, but he’s scented us somehow.”
“What time is it?”
“Nearly ten at night. You slept for fourteen hours.” He was dressed for battle—sleek, black clothes, dark armor over his chest, and a sword slung over his back. Smaller blades glinted from holsters strapped to his legs and arms.
She crossed to the window, pulling aside the curtain. Moonlight glinted off the harbor.
“Can he get in here?” she asked.
“No, but if he figures out where the house is, he can draw us out with fire. I’m going out to speak to him, but I want you to get out of here with the other girls.”
Something about his phrasing irked her. Get out of here with the girls. “I’m a trained fighter, you know. I don’t need to run away from demons.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “You’re the one he’s hunting. If he gets anywhere near you, he’ll torture you to death. I need to keep him as far away from you as possible. He’ll forget about you eventually, but right now he wants to impale you. Repeatedly.”
Even though her vision of stabbing Caine had only been a nightmare, guilt still weighed heavily on her, crushing her chest like a load of rocks. On top of that, she was starting to feel strangely protective of the incubus. “I’ll hang in the shadows or in the house, but I’m not leaving you alone. You were too closely matched last time for me to feel good about it. I’ll only step in if I think you’re about to die.”
He inhaled deeply before handing her a knife. “Fine, but you must promise to stay inside. I’m still hoping to fix this with diplomacy.” He eyed her carefully. “What, exactly, do you know about high demons?”