Chapter 21 #3
A shiver runs up my spine as I accept my coat and follow Malakai into the hallway, casting a parting glance at Inakr.
Something about the inhuman doesn’t sit right with me; it makes my magic stir beneath my skin, in my veins.
It’s more than just the unique brand of bloodlust that wafts off of him.
It’s something more unsettling than that.
Something that feels an awful lot like death, but old and stale, like dried blood and decomposing flesh.
Only when we’re in the elevator going up do I dare to speak. “Who is he?”
“Inakr, also known as the Nephilim,” Malakai answers smoothly. “He’s a half-breed angel. A cocky bastard.”
There’s more there; I can feel it from the way his magic is pulsing slightly erratically against my skin, giving him away.
So I give him a nudge with my shoulder to gently let him know that I’m onto him.
Malakai sighs, closing his eyes for a moment—letting it all go.
When he looks back at me, his frustration is gone.
“He’s good at what he does, knows it all too well, and has the ego to go with it. But there’s something about him…” He searches for his words for a moment. “He enjoys it too much? If that makes sense? I swear the sight of a fresh corpse makes him happy, and it makes my damn skin crawl.”
That actually makes a lot of sense.
The elevator dings open, and we step into his office.
“At least we got some information out of this whole ordeal,” Malakai says as he makes his way to a cabinet. He opens it and pulls out a bottle of Dead Man’s Drink. He raises it to me in question, and I nod. He pours two glasses of the shimmering alcohol before passing one to me.
“A red-haired woman who smells like apples, nutmeg, and sex with a woman,” I murmur. “How likely is that to get us anywhere?” I’m still distracted, unable to wrap my head around it. My magic continues to push and pull within me, demanding release.
Malakai takes a big gulp of his drink before he answers. “Red hair is actually quite rare among inhumans, especially women. It tends to make them… desirable.”
“How so?”
“There’s only one pureblood with red hair, and she’s the most powerful woman of our kind. She has a few children, all of them red-haired daughters.” He takes another sip. “No matter who those daughters couple with, their offspring are all female and red-haired.”
Malakai sees the question in my eyes and continues.
“There are red-haired men, of course, but every woman can be traced back to this specific pureblood. This rarity, along with the power it signifies, makes them highly sought after in certain ranks. Once they realized, they pretty much disappeared, making any new offspring rare and far between. Which, in turn, made them even more desirable.”
“You mean these women are basically trophies?”
“They are.” Malakai nods. “And a way to ensure your bloodline isn’t squandered on an inferior one.”
“That’s a thing?” My voice comes out slightly higher pitched than intended, startling me.
“It most certainly is.” He chuckles. “Much like it has been in human history. The angels are exceptionally good at this. They breed themselves to have pure-white wings; anything else gets kicked out.”
I raise my eyebrows at this, but Malakai just shrugs. It’s clear from the white-knuckled grip he has on his glass that he doesn’t approve, but also that there’s nothing to be done about it.
I swirl the alcohol in my glass, entranced by the shimmers within it. Taking a sip, I return my gaze to Malakai and the problem at hand. “And what if it’s a glamor? What if she’s faking it?”
He shakes his head. “Red is the worst color to choose because of the implications that come with it. A lie like that always comes out, which never ends well for the woman. Trust me, it has happened.”
I hum to myself, thinking. “It’s too easy...” My voice trails off, my eyes dropping to the glass in my hand. “Or… she’s too cocky.”
“What makes you think so?”
“She might be proud of her bloodline and refuse to hide it.” I look back up. “Maybe she wants people to know who she is.”
“She should know that if we ever find out about this, it could be used to track her down,” Malakai remarks.
“Can it, though? The only way we could do that is if we had something of hers, which we don’t. Unless you know how to get in contact with the pureblood in question and can ask her for some of her blood?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t have a way to contact her. Even if I did, I highly doubt she would help us.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “How so?”
“Remember what I told you about sleeping with my brother’s first wife?” Malakai asks, a slightly nervous smile on his lips.
“You’re joking? Her?” I say, my mouth falling open as I grasp his meaning.
“Afraid so.”
“Then why would one of her descendants be coming after you?”
“Perhaps one of them thinks I wronged her in some way. Or maybe they got bored, and being of her bloodline is merely a coincidence.”
“Bored? Seriously?” A smile tugs at my lips; the idea seems ridiculous.
Malakai shrugs and empties his glass. “Wouldn’t be the first one on a suicide mission to spice up their lives.” He stares down at it for a moment, then mumbles, “Or maybe they realize the power that lies in controlling inhuman real estate and want it for themselves.”
“You think that might be it? That they believe undermining you is easier than starting their own company and being fair competition?”
Malakai looks up at me, and it’s clear he has no idea. It could be any of those options, all of them, or something completely different altogether.
“Then how do we track her down?” I scowl, knowing we lack a real and efficient way to find her.
He ponders for a moment before shaking his head. “It’s a long shot, but perhaps her scent—apples and nutmeg. It’s a very specific and unique combination for an inhuman.”
My stomach drops at his words, the mere idea of that scent nauseating me. Something claws at my mind—a memory that wants to resurface. If it’s what I think it is, then I don’t want to remember.
“How so?” I ask, attempting to mask my inner turmoil.
“Nikolay told me that the person who set him up with his moonlighting job was a woman who smelled like apples.” He grins at me.
“So Noriko confirmed he wasn’t making things up,” I add, feeling even more uncomfortable.
“Which I honestly thought was the case,” Malakai admits. His eyes quickly scan me, and I think he picks up on my discomfort when he says, “Let’s keep it at this for today.”
Malakai extends his hand, and I give him my empty glass.
He walks to the bathroom adjacent to his office to rinse them out.
While he does, I step to the window and gaze outside—at the city below us, at the many lights shining brightly in the darkness.
It takes my breath away but does nothing to ease my growing unease, discomfort, and fear.
Something tells me that scent connects with the last years of my life, with my time in the whorehouse.
Most of those memories are blurry, which I don’t mind since I really don’t want to remember.
But if this person, this red-haired woman, and her scent are indeed tied to it, then perhaps I won’t have a choice.
I’m fumbling with the hem of my sleeve when Malakai returns, his reflection in the window drawing nearer. I quickly school my expression and posture, not wanting him to notice. I know I shouldn’t keep this from him, especially since he’ll find out anyway. But I don’t want to share—not yet.
Malakai frowns at me, but I counter it with a smile and twirl around to face him.
“The view up here truly is amazing.” I beam, pushing everything down once more.
He regards me for a moment longer, and I hate not knowing what he’s thinking.
“I got a message from Caner just now,” he says, and my eyes widen slightly. “He apologizes for the man’s behavior.”
My eyes widen even more. “He apologizes?” Malakai gives me a devious grin. “You took out his tongue and eyes. Shouldn’t you be the one apologizing?”
All I get is a half-hearted shrug that tells me he clearly doesn’t care either way. “I told him to send me the bill for the damage to his property.”
“You’re impossible.” I chuckle.
“Everything for you,” Malakai says, his grin now a broad, smug smile, as he extends his hand to me. “Let’s go.”
We transport back and appear in the transportation circle in the library. I shrug off my coat, facing the roaring fire, the weariness settling into my bones.
“Happy birthday, love.”
I turn around to see Malakai behind me, holding the glass bottle with the amphiptera we saw earlier today. I squeal, unable to hide my excitement, which effectively wipes my earlier worries away.
“You went back for it?” I ask, almost pressing my face against the glass. “When did you even find the time for that?”
“I had someone check its authenticity. They then purchased it for me, and William delivered it while we were having our fun.” My enthusiasm brings a smile to his lips. The look he gives me is so soft and warm that it makes my breath catch and heats my cheeks. It almost looks like…
Then I freeze. “I, I didn’t get you a gift.”
“Oh, that little show in the basement was the perfect gift,” he says, and his gaze makes my stomach flutter.
“Where do you want it?” Malakai asks, nodding at the amphiptera still in his arms.
“Put it on the desk for now, and I’ll find a spot for it in the morning.” I won’t confess I already know exactly where I want it; he looks far too pleased with himself.
Malakai sets the amphiptera down, and as soon as his hands are free, I hug him tightly. “Thank you.”
He tenses for a moment, then relaxes and hugs me back. “Anything for you,” Malakai whispers into my hair.