Chapter 14 #2
Azrion stood at the base of the tree, arms lax and axe-less. His head was tilted back, silvery brows knitted with concern. “Whatever are you doing up my red zelkova?”
Her body relaxed, at least as much as it was able while she was still perched on a branch, and something like comfort settled in. His voice—that was his voice. The one that was musical and sweet and inspired a chuckle with its levity.
“I knew the sytron was ripening, but I didn’t expect to find something this sweet in the trees.” He grinned with all his teeth, fangs included.
Maybe fangs should have been terrifying, but on Azrion they were…
gods, they were cute, she supposed. Not when he’d been swinging that axe and swearing, but now as he grinned up at her with a pleading look in his black eyes, she saw the thing that had convinced her to come to his home in the first place.
Kat eased forward, and at her side, the furry creature made a little trilling noise. She hadn’t even felt it clamor up beside her, but it was there, mimicking her movements to look down at the demon.
“I can’t imagine you need help disembarking since you got up there so impressively, but I’m more than willing.” He held out his arms. “That is, if you’re willing to come down?”
“Are you…are you done being mad?” She winced at the weakness in her voice, the low monotony gone and a childlike fear tainting it.
“Mad? Well, that is embarrassing.” He put his hands on his hips and hung his head, tail flicking. “But yes, I am done.”
She made her descent slowly, and when the furry thing saw, it darted downward too. She stood awkwardly at the base of the tree, hands clasped.
“Would you like to come inside for a cup of tea and perhaps a…a conversation?” Azrion gestured to the house but didn’t move to touch her.
She nodded, and he led her to the porch where she would have hesitated again if he didn’t pull open the door and sweep his arm urging her to enter.
Stepping inside Azrion’s home was like stepping into him.
The floor, walls, and ceiling of the entry were awash with violet paint, drenching the space in a way she’d never seen before.
The foyer was again smaller than she expected, but it was still luxurious in its own right, light filtering through the color glass on the doors.
Niches were built into both walls with flourishes painted in shimmering silver along their borders.
One recess held a hovering smooth black sphere, and as it rotated, revealed swirls of something liquidy moving inside.
The other held framed insects, wings spread and on colorful display, but on closer inspection, they weren’t pinned bugs but just convincing replicas made up of brush strokes on small canvases.
Above, many lanterns hung on chains of different lengths, the lights inside them so pale they were almost white.
Kat turned to Azrion to deliver a compliment, but he was oddly intent on the way ahead, brow bent in nervous contemplation as he led her through an archway swagged with silver curtains. She kept the polite words to herself and followed him deeper into the house.
Kat had skulked her way through too many manors to count, but she always found a moment to run her hands over velvety curtains and pillow tassels and even the tufted loops of dense rugs, so she knew what fine draperies and other soft goods were like, but she also knew when those things went unused because they looked elegant but were patently uncomfortable.
She chalked that up to wealthy people who had too much coin than they knew what to do with.
Those same rich bastards would start collecting just because, and their homes were crowded with trinkets from faraway lands, unread books, and overstuffed wardrobes.
The things on display in Azrion’s home were indeed fine, like the fur throw on a soft-looking divan in the parlor or the ornate leather-covered book on the side table, but nothing looked untouched.
The spaces were clean and neat, but they were lived in too, and she could imagine Azrion actually lounging on the divan with his feet up while he read.
He led her into a well-equipped kitchen where the dishes were stacked on open shelves.
There didn’t seem to be any cupboards harboring other pieces too fancy to be used.
Azrion filled a teapot from the rune spigot faucet and then traced another rune on the kettle’s side. Immediately it began to steam.
“How would you like it?”
“Do you have cream?”
“For you? Absolutely.” He moved around the kitchen like he knew it well, a thing she simply didn’t expect from someone with his wealth, but Azrion put together her cup with ease. He only faltered when he brought it to her, a moment of hesitation before he handed it off.
Their fingers touched as she took the cup, and something new happened.
The spark no longer shocked, but it did tingle, nuzzling her skin from the inside as the feeling crawled through her hands and up her limbs to settle deep in her chest. She wanted to blame it on the fleeting fear as vigilance heightened her senses, but the fact a sweaty, shirtless demon with tattoos she was itching to trace stood before her was the more probable culprit.
“I didn’t mean for you to see me like that—not for anyone to. I got into an argument with my father today and…” Azrion’s words trailed off as he shrugged in the least Azrion-like way, his voice not at all playful. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” Kat said, nervously drumming fingers on the black clay cup. “I didn’t mean to scale your landscaping. I just get a little jumpy around a certain kind of anger, but I don’t think I need to explain to you about…parents.”
“Definitely not.” Azrion blew out a sigh, and with it went his melancholic state.
He stood straight and set his fists on his hips, cocking his head with a wide grin.
“Well, as you can see, I am totally ill equipped to accept a guest in this state, so I would request a short reprieve to make myself presentable and also that you forget you saw this.” He gestured to his half-naked self.
Kat held her teacup to her face, eyes pinging down the length of him. “No promises.”
Azrion’s grin curled up wickedly, and then he drew it all back and swiftly turned away. She thought she might have caught a violet shadow in his cheeks before he went, but there was no doubt his swishing tail knocked into the doorway accidentally as he hurried off.
Kat listened as the sound of running water and muffled humming floated from somewhere else in Azrion’s quiet home, and her mind…wandered. He’s not putting on more clothes, he’s taking them off.
And that didn’t concern her in the least!
So Kat let her feet do the wandering instead, through his kitchen and down the opposing hall from where he’d disappeared, past a dining room, a seating area, a water closet, and then she found a half set of stairs.
Tucked at the end of a hall, a short flight led to a door open only a sliver.
Rich people did funny things with their homes, so Kat had seen levels being split like this before, but if she oriented herself correctly from what she spied outside—and she did, because that was one thing she was good at—the room at the top of those stairs would look out over the back of his property and possibly the Veilwood.
Kat crept up them, tea still in hand. She had told herself no good would come of thinking about the Veilwood, but it had still pervaded her mind when she thought of Kaly scouting.
Maybe if she could see it, she wouldn’t worry about how dangerous it could be, so she ascended the landing and pushed open the door.