He opened his eyes and stared up at me as if I were the door out of Arcadia and back to the true sky. “That’s what makes you my favorite.” He reached up and wiped a tear off my cheek with his thumb. “Every wicked bit of you.”
Nobody had ever looked at me like that, and certainly not after seeing the poison I kept locked up inside. Not even Shade, because I had always tried to be kind to him.
I nearly kissed Ignifex again, but I knew that if I did now I would never stop. I would never be able to fight him, and I owed it to Astraia, Shade, Mother, the whole world to break this creature’s power.
So I shoved him off my lap and stood, because if I held him any longer, I didn’t know if I would be able to betray him.
“More fool you,” I said. “I’m going to keep looking for a way to stop you.” And I strode out through the door before he could say another word.
15
I spent most of the day in my room, trying to nap. I planned to be up exploring the whole night, and I wanted to be as alert as possible, so I could avoid any more disasters.
But sleep did not come easily. One thought snaked around and around my head: I kissed him. Not against my will, not for the sake of my mission, but simply because I desired it, I had kissed the monster who governed our world.
He took wives on the orders of his masters. They wanted him to know that he could never be free. They had burnt the holes in the sky, and they let the demons—Children of Typhon—ravage people against his will.
If he was telling the truth. I wanted to believe him, but every story I’d ever heard agreed he was a deceiver. And even if Ignifex was less evil than I’d thought—even if he was, in some mad fashion, as innocent as Shade—that still did not excuse me.
Last night I had kissed Shade. Last night he had as good as said that he loved me, and I had thought I loved him in return. When I thought of him—his rare smiles, his gentle kindness, the peace in his touch—I still wanted him.
I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow. The sunlight’s warmth had faded from my hair, but I could still remember it burning across my back. I could almost feel the heat of Ignifex’s body beneath mine. I wanted him too.
What kind of woman was I?
Eventually I fell asleep. I woke, heavy-eyed, with hair smashed into my face, and went to dinner on my own so that Shade wouldn’t summon me. I didn’t think I could bear to see him yet. Ignifex did not arrive at the dinner table, which was odd, but I ate in silence and decided that the more he ignored me, the better. Then I went back to my room to wait for nightfall.
“Aren’t you going to wear a nightgown?”
I whirled and saw Ignifex leaning against the doorframe. Once again, he wore the dark silk pajamas.
“I was hoping for lace,” he went on, “but surely you could manage something sheer at least. I put plenty in your wardrobe.”
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, gripping one of the caryatid bedposts. It didn’t matter how much I had reproached myself earlier that day; I wanted to close the distance between us.
“Spending the night.” He strode inside. “Look on the bright side, you might manage to strangle me in my sleep.”
Behind him Shade flowed in—still a simple shadow—dragging a bundle of candles, and I stiffened. Did he know about the kiss? Had Ignifex boasted to him?
“Why?” I managed to ask.
“Because you have a nice lap.” He rested a hand on the face of a caryatid and leaned toward me. “And because I had a strange little feeling that you were planning to get into trouble tonight.”
“I’m always planning trouble,” I said. I could feel every contour of the space between us, and I wondered if this weakness was visible, if it glimmered off my body like an oily film on water.
“It’s this or I lock you up,” he said cheerfully. “There are twenty minutes left until dark; you know I can do it.”
Shade was already lighting candles around the edges of the room. I could see his quick movements from the corner of my eye, but I didn’t dare look at him because I also couldn’t let Ignifex know how much I cared for his captive.
I had to remember that both Shade and I were captives. I lifted my chin and met Ignifex’s gaze.
“Don’t you think I might leave you again?”
His teeth flashed in a smile. “I don’t know, will you?”
The last candle flickered to life. Shade slid out the doorway, and a bit of the tension left me. At least now he couldn’t watch.
“Only if I think it will kill you,” I said.
And that was how I ended up with the Gentle Lord in my bed, his head resting in my lap. He looked even younger when he slept—and since his eyes were closed, he looked human. I stroked his hair lightly; it was soft and silky as the fur of our old cat Penelope, and I wondered if he ever purred.