Chapter 19 Des
Des
“I can take her from here, sir,” the servant said to Des as he reached for Aurelie, who was currently lying unconscious in
Des’s arms.
It had all happened so fast. One minute she’d been shouting at him, and the next, her eyes had rolled back, and she’d started
to fall. Des caught her without thinking. It had been easy, given that he’d had his arms on either side of her already, though
he couldn’t remember placing them there. Even as dead weight, she was almost laughably light. He had turned to find Daisy
staring at him, her mouth open in shock.
Now, Des found himself drawing Aurelie closer to his chest as he stepped around the young male servant and into the cottage.
Des was grateful he’d been in the dean’s house once before. He knew exactly where the nearest sofa was, and he intended to
make sure she was at least placed somewhere comfortable. Daisy followed him inside, apologizing on his behalf, as two maids
clustered in the hallway.
In the dean’s sitting room, Des ignored the armchairs he’d sat in with Aurelie and went straight to the settee, laying her gently on its plush brocade surface.
Unconscious, she looked like a doll, her long lashes resting on her porcelain cheeks.
Her lips, which Des had gotten a good look at the other day when he was stealing her sketch, were parted slightly.
He had the strangest urge to press his finger to her full lower lip, to know if it was as soft as it looked.
“Is she awake?” Daisy asked, peering over his shoulder.
Des rose. “Not yet. Maybe we should send for a doctor.”
“She’s unconscious, not ill.” Daisy turned to the maid. “Can you fetch a glass of water and some smelling salts, if you have
any?”
The maid nodded and hurried off, while the young valet hovered worthlessly in the doorway. “Is Miss Blake going to be all
right?” he asked.
“She’ll be fine,” Daisy assured him, but Des could hear the concern in her voice. “The best thing you can do right now is
give her some space.”
The boy nodded and left.
“Thank you,” Des said to Daisy. “I was getting ready to remove him myself.”
“I could tell.” She eyed him meaningfully. “You all right there? You were looking a little pale for a minute.”
Des sat in one of the armchairs and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, suddenly exhausted. “Did I cause this, Daisy?”
“You mean by yelling at her?” Daisy smiled to let him know she was teasing and sat across from him. “She was overwhelmed,
Des. She’ll be fine.”
He ran his hands down his face, unable to get the image of Aurelie lying against the snow beneath him out of his head every
time he closed his eyes. All that lovely dark hair spread around her, mouth open in a small o of shock. It had been pure instinct to knock her to the ground and out of harm’s way, leaving Daisy to go after the female
natia. He glanced at her now, unable to reconcile the bookish, sheltered girl he thought he knew with the woman who had so naturally stepped in front of him to confront the demon, knife clenched in her fist, boots planted firmly in the snow.
She had fought demons before. There was no doubt in his mind.
Why did she insist on lying?
The answer was obvious, even if it infuriated him. If she admitted she’d faced demons, she’d have to admit to whatever illicit
activity she was participating in. And how could she when the truth would land her in jail?
None of that mattered now, though. He had to turn her over to the Iron Guard. It wasn’t just her on the line anymore—maybe it never was. He’d be culpable if she was
caught, right alongside Daisy. They’d let the other guards know there was a male natia on the loose, but Commander Yew would need a full debriefing as soon as possible. Des had been right to take that drawing,
to tail this girl from the first night he met her. She was dangerous. All the more so for looking like she did. Small. Scholarly.
Beautiful.
Brave.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Daisy said, forcing him to look at her.
Before he could respond, a maid returned with the smelling salts and water. Daisy took them and asked her to fetch some tea,
which Des was fairly certain was another excuse to get her out of the room, though the fact that she’d asked for sugar didn’t
bode well.
Daisy opened the tiny vial of smelling salts but didn’t immediately move to Aurelie’s side. “We’re going to hear her out before
we make any decisions. Do you understand me?”
Normally, Des would have argued, but not tonight. Not when he’d almost gotten Aurelie killed. He found himself saying a silent prayer that she had a perfectly good explanation for all of this, but his stomach twisted with doubt. What explanation could there possibly be?
Aurelie regained consciousness the moment the salts were placed under her nose. She gave a strangled little gasp, trying to
sit up. Daisy pressed her back against the pillow gently.
“Easy, now,” she murmured. “You fainted outside the gates. Des carried you to your house. You’re safe.”
Aurelie’s eyes skittered to Des, and he remembered the way she’d looked at him at the café, finally meeting his gaze and daring
him to look away first.
He’d never backed down from a confrontation in his life, but he had surrendered to Aurelie Blake. Staring back was too vulnerable
when faced with her sharp, indecipherable stare. Did she despise him, as he had been so sure he did her? Or did she, too,
feel an inexplicable pull between them?
“You carried me here?” she asked, then covered her face with her forearm. “Blood and bones, this is mortifying.”
Des couldn’t help the smile that curled his lips. There had been nothing mortifying about her fainting. He had seen grown
men faint dead away in front of demons, without fighting them first—let alone stepping in front of an Iron Guard. Something in him kept returning to that moment. Was it pure
instinct, or was she truly trying to protect him?
Daisy helped Aurelie sit up, though she insisted she was fine. “I just need some sleep,” she said, turning so that she was
facing Des. “Thank you for bringing me home.”
Had she forgotten all the explaining she had to do? What they had been speaking about less than ten minutes ago? “Aurelie—” he started, but Daisy cut him off with a glare as the maid bustled into the room with a tea tray.
“Oh, thank heavens, Miss Blake. I’ll tell the others. We were all so concerned about you.” The maid glanced at Des beneath
her lashes and blushed. “How fortunate Lieutenant Whitlow was here to help.”
Aurelie’s mouth slanted in a wry smirk at Des when the maid left. “Fortunate, indeed.”
“We do need to talk,” Des said.
“I know,” she replied. “But surely there’s time for tea. And then . . . I’ll tell you everything.” Aurelie glanced up at him,
all lashes and pouty lip, and in that moment, he had the terrible, sinking feeling that he would do anything she asked. That
he’d find time for tea and whatever else this brazen creature had in mind.
He’d never been more afraid in his life.
Thirty minutes later, after a lackluster explanation that Aurelie had been taking demon defense classes, they had put on their
coats and stepped back out into the snow. Aurelie led them across the campus to the hall Des had seen her disappear into before,
ostensibly to prove that she truly had nothing to hide.
It was surreal to be on this side of the gates, to walk in the literal footsteps of a girl whose life was impossibly different
from his.
Their only similarity was that they were both orphans.
But even in that, their circumstances couldn’t be farther apart.
Even if he’d had a wealthy uncle like Aurelie did, he still would have come to the Guard, given the circumstances of his parents’ death.
The king’s decree made it seem like an honor for a demon-orphaned child to have the opportunity to avenge their parents’ deaths, but he knew plenty of guards who would have preferred to be raised by civilian relatives or friends.
“What is this place?” Daisy asked as they entered the building. It was old, that much was clear, with imposing stone columns
and gilt-framed oil portraits of stern-faced men and women lining the hall.
“This is Easton Hall. One of the oldest on campus. I don’t spend much time at my uncle’s cottage anymore. Not since I turned
eighteen. My office is this way.”
This was where Aurelie belonged, with her tidy notebooks and prim dresses, not flitting around noisy cafés with the elite.
Yes, she was smug and self-satisfied to a profoundly obnoxious degree, but at least she was occupying her time with more than
flirting and day-drinking.
She led them to a stairwell and they descended two floors. Only a few of the gas lamps were lit here, and the hall had an
abandoned feeling. He couldn’t imagine choosing this over her uncle’s house. For just one moment when they’d been sitting
there the other day, surrounded by books, a fire crackling in the hearth, he’d felt as though he had stepped into someone
else’s life. Someone who talked to his wife over tea and looked after her when she was injured. Someone who had a lovely home
to return to at the end of a day.
Someone who had a home.
“I need a moment to tidy up,” Aurelie said when they reached a doorway that looked no different from the others lining the long hallway. Before Des could say anything, she had smiled, unlocked the door, and disappeared inside.
While she’d sipped her tea—strong and black—Des had insisted she show them where she studied. Daisy, whose cup was filled
with more sugar than tea, had elbowed him and asked Aurelie politely. Des knew she wanted to believe Aurelie was innocent,
perhaps more than he did.
Aurelie opened the door a minute later and motioned for them to step inside. It was a large, rectangular room with one high,
narrow window above the desk. Des had to duck his head to keep from running into the dried herbs and flowers hanging from