Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
“ N o ,” I said by way of greeting. “Whatever you came here to say, I’m not in the mood.”
Kaden’s eyes flashed as he pushed off the wall, wings spreading behind him. “Testy little huntress. I merely came to invite you to dinner so we can discuss your training.”
“I’d rather eat with your royal dog,” I growled, jerking my chin at Adriel.
Something dark rippled in the prince’s countenance, but he quickly schooled his expression. “I’m insulted. And besides, I was so looking forward to hearing how it was going.”
“Why not just force your way into my mind and see for yourself?” I seethed.
“I have little interest in taking by force,” the prince replied. “I’d rather hoped you would have learned to prevent me or others from doing so, but since you have refused my help . . .”
For a long moment, we stared at one another. Though my pride demanded that I refuse him, if my lesson with Adriel had taught me anything, it was that there was much to be learned from training with my enemies.
“Have dinner with me,” said Kaden, as if he sensed my resolve crumbling.
“I’ve been sparring. I’m not exactly dressed —”
I didn’t have a chance to finish the sentence. Kaden snapped his fingers, and my baggy linen garments vanished in a wisp of shadows, along with the layer of salty grime on my skin.
In its place was a black gown made of the finest silk. The neckline of the bodice was low and daring, though twin swaths of gossamer silk flowed over my shoulders and down the back, lending a touch of modesty to a cut that would have otherwise been too revealing.
Kaden had even seen to my hair. It was no longer in the ratty French braid from this morning, but lay over my shoulders in smooth, dark waves.
He held out an arm, and for the first time I noticed that he wore a more formal tunic of storm-cloud gray, which brought out the swirls of silver in his eyes. “Shall we?”
I made an aggravated noise in my throat and stalked past him, ignoring his proffered arm. Adriel seemed to have vanished into thin air, though I could practically feel his amusement lingering in the long corridor.
The Dark Prince followed a few paces behind, and when I reached the set of arched doors, he threw them open on a gust of magic, ushering me inside.
The glow of the sunset over the Adraeis River was even more stunning this evening. It bathed the dining room in a golden light so breathtaking that I momentarily forgot my anger .
“Please,” said Kaden, his voice echoing in the cavernous hall. “Make yourself comfortable.”
I turned to see him pulling out one of the high-backed chairs for me to sit down, but I rolled my eyes and continued toward the head of the table. I pulled out that chair with a loud scrape and plopped down.
Kaden didn’t balk at my presumptuousness, nor did he take his seat at the other end. His full lips twitched in a ghost of a grin as he magicked away those extraordinary wings and took the seat beside me.
As soon as he did, a door opened at the far end of the hall, and Freydolf came bustling out with a clay decanter and a tea towel over his arm.
Relief coursed through me at seeing the faun unharmed after he’d brought me dinner the other night. He met my gaze briefly as he scuttled around, filling our goblets with a dark red wine.
When he’d finished, he stepped away from the table and dropped into a bow. “Shall I bring out the first course, Your Highness?”
“We won’t stand on ceremony this evening, Freydolf.” Kaden cut a swift look in my direction. “You’d best bring it out all at once in case our huntress decides to flee before dessert.”
“B-but sire,” the faun protested, his calm, refined demeanor slipping. “I’m afraid the roasted pheasant won’t keep. We also have a delectable lemon soup, which I fear —”
“I insist.”
Freydolf looked physically pained at the prospect of the food going cold, but he merely nodded. “As his lordship wishes.”
The faun flitted away without another word, but my sensitive hunter ears picked up on a swift, hushed argument taking place back in the kitchen.
That was when I felt it — the hum of Kaden’s presence along my mental wall.
I gritted my teeth, profoundly grateful that I’d been practicing and my shield was still intact. Still, it was unnerving to observe his silent perusal.
Unlike when I’d been attacked outside Julian’s shop, there was no forceful scrape of claws along my mind. Kaden simply circled the perimeter of my defenses, those dark shadows searching for weakness.
As his search wore on, my unease mounted. Did he plan to do this all night?
Casually, as though he invaded the minds of all his dinner guests, Kaden lifted his goblet.
“May your blades be sharp, and may they be slick with the blood of your enemies. May the wind carry you exactly where you wish to go, and may the road of immortality lead you to rest with your sword in hand under a quiet tree.”
I stared at him, still annoyingly aware of his shadowy presence along the edges of my consciousness. “What was that?”
“An old Drathen blessing. It sounds better in the old tongue. Nevertheless . . .” He shrugged and brought the goblet to his lips.
When I didn’t follow suit, his face tightened in irritation, and he placed his cup back down on the table and slid it across to me.
I took it, giving the contents a sniff. The bouquet was fruity but not overpowering, and I surmised it was probably the finest wine I would ever have the pleasure of tasting.
Seeing as the prince needed my help, he had no reason to poison me. I snatched up my own goblet and took a careful sip, the tart flavor bombarding my senses before softening into something more complex.
“What do you think?” he asked, taking his cup and leaning back in his chair as he swirled the wine. “Bit jammy for my taste. Perhaps I’ll have Freydolf bring us something better.”
“It’s fine.”
But the door to the kitchen burst open, and Freydolf appeared with another decanter and two fresh goblets. “Beg pardon, my lord,” the faun fretted, looking flustered and a bit embarrassed as he poured two new glasses. “You have my sincerest apologies.”
“It’s quite all right, Freydolf,” said Kaden lazily. “It’s only a matter of personal preference.”
I narrowed my eyes as I watched the faun whisk away the first set of goblets with another ardent plea for forgiveness.
That was when I felt it — the soft sigh of a familiar dark presence easing past my mental shields like a spider slipping through a crack.
Immediately, my chest tightened, and I frantically tried to locate Kaden within the confines of my mind. Already I could feel him flitting through my mental impressions, tutting softly as he read my thoughts.
So high and mighty.
Obnoxious pig.
He so enjoys lording his status over everyone in this house . . .
A low chuckle echoed through my mind, and my muscles clenched as I tried to isolate everything that was him so that I could throw him out.
But the demon prince was everywhere and nowhere at once — a whirlwind of darkness and laughter and mist .
Get — out .
Another low chuckle. Make me .
My lungs heaved as I focused on the shadowy presence flitting through my mind, sending thoughts and memories scattering like papers caught in a high wind.
Not again .
A jumble of disjointed images flashed before me, as if he’d dumped the contents of my mind into a typhoon.
My mother hanging laundry in the back yard, a cool spring breeze playing in the air. She wore a kerchief in her hair and hummed along to the radio.
Me, surrounded by the demon copies at Julian’s shop, screaming as the hellfire burned through my clothes.
Me, no older than six, huddled on the floor of a closet, staring into the light streaming through a crack in the door.
Imogen, lying dead on that filthy mattress.
Then, suddenly, everything stopped. The stream of memories stilled. Hands made of shadow gathered them all and neatly arranged them in my mind.
He was gone.
Relief and despair hit me in equal measure as I folded in on myself, searching the dusty corners of my mind to ensure that I was alone.
“That was . . . interesting.”
This time, Kaden’s voice didn’t come from inside my head. It sounded strangely far away.
With great effort, I peeled my eyes open and blinked at him from across the table. He was no longer leaning back in his chair like the arrogant bastard he was. He sat completely still, his tanned skin unusually pale.
I let out a frustrated sigh, but Kaden didn’t scold me. He merely pushed my goblet of wine toward me, and I took it, drinking deeply.
“A respectable attempt, but you allowed yourself to be distracted . . . left me a generous opening.”
Of course. That was why he’d complained about the wine. It had all been a diversion — a sleight of hand designed to annoy me and give himself a way into my mind.
“Bricks are an interesting choice for a mental shield,” he said. “So very mortal of you.”
His assessment wasn’t condescending. He said it with something almost like fondness.
“And what of your defenses?” I rasped, hand shaking as I set down my goblet.
Kaden arched a brow. “Would you like to see?”
It seemed like a bad idea to go strolling into a demon’s mind, though I couldn’t deny I was curious.
Before I could voice my decision, I felt a sharp tug at the edge of my consciousness, like a child grabbing me by the hand and dragging me into the woods.
Come, let me show you , it seemed to whisper.
I was powerless to resist.
In the next breath, the sun-soaked dining room disappeared, and I was thrust into darkness.
Shadows and mist billowed around me, blotting out the light. I turned to flee, but I couldn’t see a way out. Everything around me was shrouded in darkness.
Blindly, I reached out with my senses, but I couldn’t feel Kaden. Not even a trace of the arrogant bastard.
I needed a lifeline — needed to find my way to the edge of Kaden’s mental defenses so I could escape his mind.