Flustered, she blurted the first thing that came to her mind. “I’m quite badass, actually.”
She cringed. Idiot.
His brow knitted with confusion. “Right. Well, I’m going to heal you with my magic. When I’m done, I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”
She nodded, watching as he traced his fingertips just below some of the cuts in her skin. His magic caressed her skin, soothing her pain. As she closed her eyes, the shadow magic licked at her skin, then seeped deeper into her body. Her heart sped up, and the waves of pleasure dizzied her. An image rose in her mind of a sandstone temple, gleaming in the sun.
Her eyes fluttered open, and before she could think better of it, she touched the palm of her hand to his cheek.
Nearly imperceptibly, he leaned into her. His gray eyes roamed over her bare skin. With a hoarse voice, he asked, “What happened? What did they do to you?”
She dropped her hand. “A bat flew up to the window and threw some sort bomb against it.”
His brow furrowed. “A bat threw a bomb on your window?”
“No... No, I mean.” Bael’s bare skin and his closeness was distracting. Her pulse raced, and her cheeks flushed. Could a demon tell when you were turned on? Probably. “Someone rode it.”
“The rider didn’t come in to attack you?”
“No. He just sent a bolt through the window with a warning about how I don’t belong.”
Bael backed away from her, glancing at the punctured portrait. “What happened to your clothes?”
She shrugged. “I was asleep. I wasn’t expecting any visitors.”
“Are you okay now?”
“Completely knackered, but unharmed. Now that you’ve healed me.”
He turned, studying the broken window. “You made a barricade from the sofa and chairs.”
“I was worried they might try to come in, and I didn’t want them to see me.”
“That was smart.” Suddenly shy, he wouldn’t meet her gaze. Without the cuts, her nudity seemed to bother him. “Where’s the note?”
She slid off the bar, then pointed at the floor where she’d dropped it. “It’s right there.”
He reached down, snatching it off the floor, along with the bolt. “I hope you didn’t touch it. It could be cursed.”
“But it’s okay for you to hold it?”
Ignoring her, he inspected the wood. “So he blew out the glass and then shot at you with the crossbow.”
“Exactly.” Why do I get the feeling that Bael knows more about this particular method of assassination than he’s letting on?
“And he didn’t hit you?” Bael scanned the room.
“No.”
He shook his head, still searching the floor for something. “That rider is a dead man.”
“You’re going to kill him for trying to murder me?”
“I don’t need to. His lord will.” He glanced again at the painting of the dark-eyed beauty.
“For not assassinating me?” Ursula asked. Blood still covered her body, and a chill washed over her skin. Shivering, she crossed her arms.
“It is the law here. Failure to complete a mission is punishable by death.” For a second, his gaze flicked to her, then he sucked in a sharp breath, glancing at the painting of the beautiful woman. His pale eyes shined in the dim light of the candle.
“Have you executed any oneiroi because they didn’t complete a mission?”
“I follow the law.” Slowly, he crossed to the painting. He reached out to touch the canvas, running his fingertips over the tear.
Ursula frowned. “Why are the laws so draconian?”
“Nyxobas provides order in the chaos. Before he arrived here, the oneiroi were lawless. Vengeance and blood feuds ruled the darkness. The god of night has civilized them.”
“Yeah, it seems really civilized here, with all the murder and assassinations.”
“We have our own code.” His fingers traced over the hole in the painting.
“Why can’t the oneiroi speak your name? I don’t see what that has to do with security.”
His gaze slid to Ursula, his eyes so black they might have been direct conduits to Nyxobas’s void. “My name was given to me by the god himself. Only the brethren may utter it.” Bael crossed his arms over his mammoth chest. “The bolt tore the painting.”
“Right. I hope it wasn’t valuable.”
He fell silent for a moment, his jaw working. “Perhaps you should get dressed.”
“You’re not dressed, either,” she pointed out. She glanced down at herself, at the sticky blood still covering her skin. “I need to bathe before I put anything on. But I still have questions for you. Come with me.”
“You want me to bathe with you?”
Her cheeks flushed. “That’s not what I meant. I’ll leave the door open. You can stand outside.”