Ehem! I scold myself.
Nox’s eyes sparkle like jewels, and though his expression is as impassive as always, I have the horrible feeling he knows what I’m thinking. Does he like me that way? I wonder. He didn’t let me kiss him. Though I was drunk as hell and most likely would have regretted it. Perhaps he knew that.
I lick my lips and look over his shoulder to somewhat clear my head. Once I had time to cool off and think and replay the fight we had, I realized his guards can be up around me because he’s afraid of my kind. Just as I was terrified of men in general for years after being attacked. It may seem irrational, but trauma changes us, and sometimes it can turn our fear into hate.
He’s helped me, saved my life. I can give him one more chance not to be a dick.
“Erm, I’m sorry about the singing and, uh, reckless behavior of last night,” I say, finding his eyes again.
His eyes flicker with humor and something stronger. “It’s okay, it has made me wonder what upset you so badly.”
I groan. “Long story, boring story.”
“I’ve nowhere to be but here right now,” he promises.
A flash of something I can’t name travels from my core to my fingertips. My sight fills with bright colors and I stumble. Nox catches me against his body, and it’s almost worse because I recognize what’s happening now. The very center of my being—the nuclear reactor that exists somewhere between my heart and spine—seems to want to escape and reach for him. The bright colors are auras, I’ve lost control of my empathic powers. I close my eyes, knowing that if I open them, they’ll shine bright golden. Nox runs his hand up and down my spine in a soothing caress and I can feel a thin sheen of his power contain the chaotic flare of mine. It’s too much for the necklace he gave me to mask.
Get a grip.
With a deep breath, I imagine an unbreakable bubble wrapping my power at its core and containing it. It takes a few minutes, but it works. I realize then I’m practically digging my fingers in Nox’s shoulders.
“Sorry,” I mutter, blinking and pulling slightly back.
“Better?” he asks.
I swallow hard. Part of the mask of composure has fallen and I can see him. And he’s beautiful.
“Yes, but I think I need some fresh air.”
He steers us away without another word. The crowd that usually nudges me parts slightly and I wonder how much of that is due to the powerful aura Nox emanates and how much to his stunning looks. I breathe easier when we reach the back exit. While the heat doesn’t make me sweat, it does feel a bit oppressive with the fire burning inside me wanting to crawl out of my chest and wrap around my demon warden.
“Would you like to go somewhere calm?” Nox asks.
I nod, he offers his hand and I take it, breath catching in my throat as he pulls me close and portals us away. The vortex disappears and we’re standing in a beautiful park. Tall trees and cobbled stone paths lit with curious purple lamps.
“Glamoured park in New York state. Fae made it, it’s hidden from humans,” he explains.
“Gorgeous,” I say, taking a step back from him to keep some sense of sanity.
We walk unhurriedly, close enough to touch. The silence is not uncomfortable, but I’m off balance. His face is calm, but the inexpressive mask is still gone.
“I, er, may I ask what do you do when you’re not around?” I ask.
He examines my face with the usual intensity. “As you know, supernaturals are in danger thanks to human hunters. Some of them belong to elite organizations that capture, torture, and conduct pseudo-scientific research and experimentation.”
I shudder. “I thought it was just the religious nut jobs supernaturals needed to be afraid of.”
Nox shakes his head. A lock of inky hair falls on his cheekbone. “No, these groups are paid by billionaires who want to live forever. To be honest, they are much worse than the religious nut jobs.”
“And you hunt them down,” I guess.
He nods. “I do, along with others. We must be careful however, the Asteri do not take kindly to demons draining the souls of too many humans at once, no matter how wicked they are.”
I groan.
Just when I thought the world couldn’t get any more fucked up.
“The more I know about the Asteri, the less angelical they sound,” I admit.
Nox points to a bench, and I nod. We sit barely a few inches apart.
“Creatures of light to ward off the darkness,” he says, “some of our ilk are wicked enough to deserve destruction and no other being can do the job other than the Asteri. They have their purpose. But somewhere along the last thirteen millennia or so, they’ve become more and more indiscriminate.”
I mull it for a bit. “How old are you?”
Nox turns to regard me. “Five centuries.”
“That’s young compared to others, isn’t it?” I ask.
He nods. “My mother is over twelve millennia old.”
I blink, still not used to the idea of such long lifetimes.
“Wow, may I ask who she is?” I sit crossed legged, facing him. Stomach quivering with apprehension, ready to be dismissed.
To my surprise, he chuckles. “Were it another, she’d not be happy to be named, but she’s always been a bit of a rebel,” he says, “Lilith.”
I gasp. “No way! The Lilith?”
Nox nods, smiles, but pain flashes in his eyes. “The one and only. Her story is not quite as you’ve read, and to be honest, not mine to tell.”
“Dude,” I complain, shoving him playfully. “You can’t just leave me in such a cliffhanger!”
He snorts, realizing I’m teasing. “One day,” he promises.
I smile.
He crosses his legs elegantly, and half turns to face me. I want to reach out; I want to lean over and place that distracting lock of hair back in place. I want to kiss him so badly it aches. He blinks, and I just know he knows. I swallow back a groan and tamp down the tide of disappointment that rises when I see part of the facade slid back in place over his face.
“You should meet some Nephilim, I can arrange for you to meet an Asteri acquaintance as well,” Nox says.
“And what has motivated you to set up playdates?” I drawl.
“You need to be among your kind as well before you make any rushed decisions.” His eyes are so earnest, and it just makes it worse.
“Right, because I’m a little girl who doesn’t know what she wants,” I snap.
His brow furrows. “No, because one must be well informed before making life-altering changes.”
I clench my teeth and turn away from him, taking a deep steadying breath. It’s hard to be angry when he makes so much sense.
“Ok,” I mutter, facing him again. “Playdate it is, promise they aren’t as crazy as Aaron?”
Anger flashes in Nox’s eyes at the mention of his name. “I promise.”
My stomach rumbles.
Nox’s features soften into mild amusement. “Want to grab a bite?”
“Yes, please.”
NOX
“So, I’m not dumb, you know?”
I blink and lock my gaze with silver, playful eyes. “I’ve never thought you were.”
Dinah tries to fight down a smile. “We’re the only ones who live in the building. Isir, you, Bryce, and me.”
I’d wondered why she hadn’t mentioned the lack of other tenants before. “I find it best not to live in a crowded space.”
“A building all to yourself in New York City, so rude,” Dinah teases.
I smile, pretending to be examining the other people in the half-full Italian restaurant. The intensity of that gaze, the honesty of that smile, it’s too much to take sometimes.
“Not exactly all to myself,” I correct. “The cleaning staff and Luke, the doorman, live on the ground floor.”
Dinah hums. “I’ve never noticed them.”
I cock a brow. “Do you think little cleaning elves take care of the laundry and keep the floors
immaculate?”
Dinah snorts inelegantly, barely managing to keep the wine in her mouth. “Well, I have to admit it no longer sounds impossible. And I do my laundry, thank you very much, I’ve known how to use a washing machine since I was five.”
She makes a small gesture that’s half amused and half sad.
I take another cursory glance around, sipping some wine and taking a bite of the admittedly delicious lasagna I ordered.
“When I was three, I locked myself inside the washing machine after turning on the cycle,” she admits, slightly flushed.
I blink at her. “So, madness is not a recent development, I see.”
She laughs. “Nope. I wanted to get clean and smell just as good as the sheets.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Oh dear, how did you manage to turn on the machine with you inside?”
Dinah gulps a mouthful of ravioli before answering. “I was fast. Grandma was so angry, she gave me the reprimand of the decade.”
“I can imagine,” I admit, catching the trace of melancholy in her expression.
Dinah gives me a wistful smile, brightening. “But then she taught me how to use the machine properly and I had so much fun with it. I always did the laundry when we lived together.”
She finishes her food in silence, emanating that mix of sadness and happiness that only comes with remembering those you lost.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” I say, drawing her attention.
She blinks. “Oh?”
I hesitate, I could ask something else but this is important, it’s more than just curiosity. It’s making sure she trusts me.
“There is a massively strong spell cocooning your old town, protecting it from low-class demons. Do you have any idea how it got there?”
Dinah frowns and leans back against her chair. Something crosses her eyes and she blinks, losing color and swallowing hard.
Not a dream.
Impossible.
Oh, gods.
Her mental defenses have improved, but she relaxes them around me. I’m almost tempted to tell her to be careful in my presence as well, but selfishly, I don’t want her to be.
“I thought it was a strange dream, grandma told me it was a dream,” Dinah murmurs, leaning forward, voice lowered. “She took me to the edge of the forest one day and made me read some strange words from a sheet of parchment. I felt… I felt as if a bubble had burst and expanded around me. I was eleven. She managed to convince me it was a dream, and then she reinforced the whole no using my powers thing. It was easy to obey her, only a few weeks after that the accident happened and… well, you know the rest.”
Her eyes are dull with sadness and worry. I pour her another glass of wine and she downs half of it in two gulps.
“Oh gods, I have to stop thinking of it as an accident. Someone did that on purpose to have an excuse to cut me open and take my power.”
I nod, immediately regretting ruining her dinner. “I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head as if in a daze. “No, I always want to know, living in the dark is no fun.”
“Agreed.”
She licks her lips and leans closer. “Do you think grandma knew what was done to me?”
“I don’t know, I’ve found nothing in her grimoires to suggest she did,” I admit.
Dinah bites her lip, blinks. “You have her grimoires?”
“It was best not to leave them in her house.”
Dinah nods, surprising me by not being upset. “May I see them?” The apprehension in her gaze makes me feel like an idiot. I should’ve never made her feel uncomfortable.
“Of course,” I say, getting up, leaving a generous tip, and leading Dinah outside with a hand in her middle back.
She doesn’t protest as we enter a dark alley and simply holds on to me as I portal us directly inside my study. I miss her warmth as soon as she lets go of me.
“Wow,” she murmurs, looking around the shelves and taking everything in with eager, smart silver eyes. “You know, I thought you had something way kinkier in here.”
I snort. “I’m sorry to disappoint you with my lack of BDSM equipment.”
I thoroughly enjoy the reddening of her cheeks.
“I’m not disappointed,” Dinah mumbles, “I am curious though.”
Her eyes land on the grimoires still laying open on my desk. Sadness creeps back into her eyes as she traces a complex rune use for healing etched in one of the worn pages.
She takes a deep breath. “I don’t know how I understand, it’s strange.”
“Asteri can speak and read any language,” I explain. “Nephilim and Fae have inherited part of that skill.”
Dinah fixes her wide eyes on me. “Are you saying Fae and Asteri are related?”
I nod. “High Fae, also known as Light Fae were born from Dryada mothers and Asteri fathers.”
“Holy shit,” Dinah exclaims, running a hand through her hair. “No wonder Fae are immortal and have light power.”
“Indeed, there are other faerie races, pixies, and nymphs for instance, but the Light Fae are the most powerful of them,” I explain. “There were others but humans have destroyed them. And there are also the Dark Fae.”
Dinah blinks. “Let me guess, half nox and half Dryada?”
I nod. “Excellent guess.”
Dinah leans against an empty spot on my desk. “Wow, I haven’t met one of those yet, right?”
“Not yet, they aren’t the most sociable lot. Asteri, Nephilim, and Light Fae aren’t fond of them.”
Dinah groans and covers her face with her hands, peering through her fingers. It’s extremely endearing.
“Let’s see if I guess again, Dark Fae aren’t necessarily evil, just a bit goth and metal and they get hate because of their demon blood,” she lowers her hands.
I chuckle. “Close, yes. Dark Fae do enjoy mischievousness, more than their half brethren, and they did spawn a rather psychotic and vicious female that had to be taken down by Light Fae Princes. Still, the inquisition they had to endure for many centuries was completely disgusting.”
“Do you happen to have a supernatural encyclopedia I can borrow?” Dinah asks, a small smile on her full lips, she is being serious though.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I promise her. “For now, let’s start with this.”
I walk towards one of the bookcases and fish out a leather-bound book. “It contains basic spells in Latin. While you won’t need them when you get your full power back for most things, it shall help you center your magic. I wanted to give it to you before, but it could have been dangerous.”
Dinah blinks. “Because my power was too out of control and I could have ended up blowing the penthouse by mistake?”
I nod. “Indeed, or hurting yourself, or Bryce and Isir.”
She scrunches up her nose. “And are we sure I won’t do that now?”
“We are,” I assure her.
I offer it to her, and she takes it eagerly, inhaling. “So Hollywood had it right with Latin being used for magic.”
I move to stand beside her. “Latin, Ancient English, Runic, and Greek are neutral languages. All creatures who wield magic can use spells in those languages. Demons can’t use Asteri language and vice-versa. Light Fae have their magical language which is a mix of Asteri Language and Ancient English. Dark Fae have their own. And while we can understand each other’s magical languages, we can’t wield our power using opposite languages because we aren’t tethered to them.”
“So, languages are alive in a way,” Dinah muses.
“Indeed,” I agree. “You’ll also be able to use Asteri spells once your genetic memory snaps completely into place.”
Dinah smiles. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She yawns, and I struggle not to catch it, it’s been a while since I’ve slept.
“Right, I better get to bed,” she says. “I have a lot of work to do, a book to read, and my mind is spinning.”
I smi
le, she has a habit of blurting her thoughts. “Good idea.” I open the door for her, she moves and hesitates just inches away from me, biting her lower lip.
I see it coming but don’t stop her as she stretches and gives me a light peck on the cheek. “Goodnight,” she says in a low, scratchy whisper.
It takes all my willpower not to pull her close and kiss her in earnest.
“Goodnight,” I mutter, my voice equally rough.
She smiles and sets off towards her room.
I’m so fucked, Dinah thinks.
You and me both, I want to say.
CHAPTER 21
DINAH
I’ve chosen a new project. An app to organize ideas, ideal for writers, and useful to anyone with a short span of attention. There are plenty of similar apps, but Carson seems more than happy to accept the proposal and gloat about my lack of originality and imagination.
If a demon tries to eat his rotten soul, I won’t stop them, I silently fume, as I leave his office feeling miserably humiliated.
Both Bryce and Isir are otherwise engaged, so Nox portals me in and out of the university. He makes no comment about my angry and flushed face after I’m done getting mocked at and scolded by the rat-faced bastard. I’ve told him everything, and he listened quietly before making the same offer as Isir.
“I’ve not taken her offer because of pride,” I explained to him. “Or because I won’t help with the protection of supernaturals in danger. I just don’t give up easily on something I’ve worked on for so long.”
He accepted this and made no more comments.
Too furious to think straight and type in the mountains of code that await me, I take upon the Prince’s offer of a training session. Which isn’t a brilliant decision.
Has his hair always been so silky? It distracts me as it falls across his face when we spar. The pull of my power towards him is even more chaotic than the night before. He notices, I know he does because I can feel his power, like a magnetic pull, so inviting.
“Grab the daggers,” he instructs after we’re done with the session of eskrima. I’m about to walk towards my weapons, but he stops me with a hand on my wrist.
Demon Warden: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy (The Cursed and the Fallen 1) Page 24