“Fine, then.” I rose, my heart speeding up already. This was important information—did they have any weaknesses? I tilted down my chin, then looked up at him from under my eyelashes. A shy smile, like the real Zahra would give. I toyed with my hair. “Another kiss for a little answer to my question?”
A seductive smile curled his lips, and his eyes started growing dark once more.
“Fine.” He leaned against the doorway, his cloak falling open over his bare chest. “Are you making up questions to ask me just to give yourself an excuse?”
He would think that, wouldn’t he?
“Maybe.” I crossed the flagstones toward him. As I moved closer, his eyes were darkening again, and the air seemed to crackle with his sexual magnetism.
“Do you know the most obvious sign that you’re not one of us?” I asked. “Angels have an allure that mortals don’t have.”
He flashed me a wicked smile. “Not from my perspective,” he murmured.
When I was standing close to him, his seductive power snaked around me, enveloping me. My breath shallowed as I stared a little at the moons on his chest. They were starting to glow with a pale, blue light. Up close it was hard to resist his aphrodisiac powers. I was picturing myself brushing my lips over that muscled chest.
He cupped a hand around the back of my neck, then turned me, so it was my back pressed against the door. Dominating me.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he purred, leaning down. “But maybe just a taste before I leave. Just one."
I slid my arms around his neck, breathing in the scent of oak that rippled off him. Pure darkness pooled in his eyes, and he shuddered with pleasure. Oh God—his hand around my neck felt sinfully good, and I could feel the heat blazing off him.
He leaned in and brushed his lips over mine. Immediately, naked heat skimmed over my skin. I opened my mouth, welcoming the kiss. Bloody hell, he tasted delicious, like an exotic wine.
The magic pouring off him was a sensual caress slipping over my collarbone, warming me up and making my thighs clench.
As the kiss deepened, his tongue brushed against mine. Images blazed in my mind—of a night sky over a desert, the moon hanging like a jewel, and the rush of wind over my body. The feel of his soft lips was transporting me.
With a nip of my lower lip, he let out a low noise from deep in his throat—a sound of pleasure and agony in one. Then, he pulled away from the kiss, his black eyes piercing me.
I stared at him, catching my breath. “Tell me. Do angels have a weakness?” Specifically, how did an angel end up murdered in a river?
“Of course we do. Everyone has a weakness.” He leaned down, his mouth close to my ear as he whispered, “mortal women.”
I shivered at his answer, trying to gather my thoughts, but it was hard because my mind was still beaming with moonlight in a night sky. I loosed a long, slow breath. “I meant a literal weakness.”
“So did I.”
I was still confused. But it seemed like he was drunk on our kiss; this was maybe the best time to get information from him.
So I ran my hand up his chest. His eyes closed, and he tilted back his head. “Mmmm.”
“What does that mean?” I whispered against his chest. “Can you become… mortal?”
He threaded his fingers into my hair. “Seduction,” he murmured. “Seduction by women makes us mortal, for a time.”
My fingers tensed on his chest. That seemed to snap him out of his lustful daze, and his body went tense.
His eyes narrowed, returning to their usual hazel hue. I felt a chill return to the air. “It occurs to me that this conversation may not be good for my health.” He pressed his palms against the door on either side of my head, boxing me in. “What are you planning, Zahra?”
“Nothing. I was just curious.”
A dark chuckle. “Curious?” He unscrewed the top of his flask, then took a sip, eyes sharp. “No, I think you’re dangerous. Goodnight, Zahra. The guards will be watching you.”
18
Lila
I’d gotten the information I wanted. Seduction. Now that was a hell of a task, wasn’t it?
I’d heard the rumors before, that angels had a taste for mortal women. That we were their weakness. I hadn’t known it was literal.
My mind churned as I crossed back to the wardrobe. So if I ever wanted Samael dead—I’d have to seduce him first? That was … terrifying.
Outside, the storm had picked up again, and rain pelted the windows. If it weren’t for my spy mission this evening, I’d want nothing more than to curl up in the warm bed and fall asleep to the sound, surrounded by books I could not yet read.
But first, I had some poisoning and espionage to undertake. I pulled open the wardrobe and snatched the herbs from the bottom.
On the table, I found a spoon and bowl to use as a makeshift mortar and pestle. The nightshade berries were sweet, and they would blend into the wine well enough. When I’d mashed up a dark, juicy paste, I scooped it into one of the wine bottles.
I swirled it up until I was sure it had dissolved. Then, with a breezy smile, I opened the door to find the two soldiers stationed outside.
“Hello, gentlemen. This wine is really not up to my standards. Will you send it off, please? Please return with something better.”
One of them snorted. “Is she joking?”
“ Of course not,” I said. “I’d like something a bit dryer, please. It’s too sweet for me.”
With a smirk, one of them grabbed it from my hand. “Of course, we will get right on it.” He nodded back at the door. “But you must go back into your room.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll be waiting.”
I slipped back inside and shut the door again. Outside, lightning rent the sky, and the wind howled through cracks in the windows. The candles around the room were burning down to their wicks now, the light growing dimmer.
I paced the floor, my thoughts roiling like the storm outside.
Most of the servants were murdered.
I wondered if Sourial knew more than he was letting on. Samael had been cutting off people’s heads outside the castle. Wasn’t he the most likely culprit? Someone who just lost control? The man had corpses hanging from his castle walls. Clearly, he didn’t feel bad about murdering mortals.
A sharp tendril of guilt curled through me. Alice had never told us where she was going. If she’d come here, maybe she felt like she had to keep it a secret. She always called herself a patriot—a true Albian woman. She’d once broken a boy’s nose for suggesting the Raven King was just a legend.
If she got the chance to escape the slums where we lived, maybe she took it without uttering a word. There weren’t many opportunities for us. Either you were a prostitute, or a thief, and either way you’d likely end up in the clink. Who could blame her for seeking a better life? But maybe she thought I’d judge her. I wished she’d confided in me.
I glanced at the door. I needed to wait just a little while longer before the sleeping potion took hold. And I still had to figure out how to get to the Tower of Bones.
I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking for—I supposed clues that Alice had been there. I hoped not to find any.