The Fallen (Hades Castle Trilogy Book 1)

by C. N. Crawford

  From under the hood of his cloak, he raised his eyes to mine, and the searing look that he gave me made my knees feel weak.

  His gaze trailed up to my mouth, and his lips hovered just above mine. My breasts strained against the silk of the gown. I wanted him to drag me into the shadows outside, to pull the silky material off me.

  Obviously, this was his magic at work, because I loathed the man with every fiber of my being. This was what it meant to be beguiled by an angel.

  If we kissed, my mind and body would burn with a fire that I would never recover from.

  And yet … I needed to see his face, what he looked like without the cloak. I reached for the hood, and lowered it.

  When I did, the full force of his beauty stole my breath. His features had been hand-carved by God and painted with the divine beauty of contrasts: dark eyelashes and storm-gray eyes, a masculine jaw with sensual lips—full, curved. The candlelight wavered over high cheekbones, his straight eyebrows. He had a square jaw, and a dimpled chin.

  His dark hair had a deep, auburn hue. Skin kissed by gold. Between his black eyebrows, a little line had formed. Divine.

  He’s not your type, Lila. Too beautiful, too otherworldly. I liked normal blokes. A man you could drink a beer with. His perfection made him alien to my world.

  And yet it was hard not to stare. His beautiful mouth was so close to my own. What would his mouth feel like on mine?

  I felt all the blood rushing out of my head as I stared at him. Remember he is your enemy. Remember what he could do to you.

  “What’s your name?” I whispered. “Your real name?”

  He leaned into my ear, and he whispered, “Samael.”

  An image slammed into my mind: his name written in blood.

  That was all it took to remember what he really was—a murderer.

  A shudder rippled through me—this time, of fear. He seemed to sense the shift in me, his expression darkening. He pulled his hand from my hair, and released me.

  Then he turned, his cloak pulled up high, and strode out of the ballroom.

  16

  Lila

  The cold rain had dampened my coat, and I hugged it around me as we sat in the train car. Hearing his name was a good reminder of what he was. Even Lord Armaros had warned me about him.

  If you ever happen to see his true face, your sanity would never recover.

  With a shiver of dread, I wondered what his true face was like.

  Sharp thorns of horror were prodding their way into my consciousness, a thought so terrible I could hardly engage with it. I was in the carriage with Death Incarnate.

  As the train moved above Dovren, I stared out at the Dark River on my right side. It seemed to seethe and churn outside like a living thing. I wanted Alice.

  Tonight, I would sneak out of my room, slink around the castle, and try to see if I could find any signs of my sister.

  The moonlight hit the side of his face under his hood, and I thought I caught a mournful expression in his large, gray eyes.

  Then, Samael’s deep voice pulled me from my dark musings. “Tell me what you learned of the Free Men.”

  When I reached into my bodice, where I was keeping the two items, his gaze darted lower—watching the movement very carefully.

  “I found your information, as requested. Therefore, you do not need to throw me out onto the street and take the money back.” I pulled out the cufflink, and the little piece of paper.

  If knowledge was power, I was at a distinct disadvantage. Even if I’d looked at the paper myself, I wouldn’t have been able to read it.

  “Here,” I said. “I think the man I took this from was one of the Free Men. They had the same little cufflinks as the man you executed today. Silver, with lightning bolts. One of these men passed the other a note.”

  Samael took both from my hand, then unfolded the note to read it.

  After a moment, he folded it again and put it in his cloak. “Good. You’ve done as I asked.”

  I blinked at him. “What did it say?”

  He turned to look at me, his eyes icy. “You know the Bibliotek Music Hall well.”

  “Extremely.”

  “If the Free Men were meeting there, where would they meet?”

  “On the top floor, I think. I haven’t been up there. Only the wealthiest members are allowed. But that seems like the Free Men. The top floor has its own entrance.”

  “They’re meeting there tomorrow night. Is there a way we can listen in to their conversation without them realizing? I think I might need your lip-reading skills.”

  These were the men Finn seemed to put a lot of faith in, which meant maybe I should give them a warning, first. I nodded anyway. “Ernald probably has secret rooms everywhere for people to watch things. And yes, I can read lips if we need it.”

  At this point, it occurred to me that we would run into people I knew at the music hall. And those people would be calling me “Lila.”

  “Tell me how long you worked for Ernald,” he murmured.

  “Since I was seven.” That was the truth.

  “But you were a child.” His voice was a sharp blade.

  My eyes widened. “Oh, not as a courtesan. I helped him discreetly transfer goods around the city.”

  “That sounds like quite the euphemism.”

  “He’s a respectable businessman.” That was Ernald’s favorite lie.

  “A thief at seven. I suppose that explains why your parents didn’t bother teaching you to read.”

  My stomach clenched. Learning to read wasn’t going to help us eat, was it?

  Mum had raised me and Alice all on her own. She’d been a pretty good mum, too, before Alice disappeared. Good enough that we were as clean and well-fed as possible. She helped keep food on our table, told us stories.

  “My mother did the best she could,” I said defensively.

  “You don’t mention a father.” His deep voice reverberated around the carriage.

  “I never had a father. Her husband was hanged before I was born, outside Ludgate Prison. She took me to see the prison once. Warned me that if I was going to break the law, I better not get caught. She read me the sign above the door. Abandon hope all ye who enter here.”

  “Her husband,” he repeated. “You don’t call him your father.”

  I turned, looking out the window, and my breath fogged the glass. “I was a foundling. When I was a baby, someone left me on her doorstep. Mum took me in, fed me, kept me warm. We’re not related by blood, but she…” I nearly said she and Alice. “She was all I had.”

  His eyes seemed to sharpen, piercing into me. “Now that is interesting. You could be anyone.”

  “I could be anyone, but I’m no one.” I felt the air growing cooler, and wished I hadn’t revealed so much to him. “No one at all.”

  The rain poured down on us as we crossed through the gatehouse. The count seemed to be ignoring me entirely again. With his cloak billowing around his body, he stalked through the first set of arches, too fast for me to keep up with. He slipped into the night.

  As I walked into the courtyard, two Clovian soldiers closed in, flanking me. Seems I’d be escorted to my room.

  I glanced at one of them—a dark-haired man with a flat nose. “Where do the servants live?” I asked.

  “In their homes.”

  I frowned. “Not here? In the castle?”

  He shrugged. “A few here at night. Most come in the day.”

  “Why don’t they stay here?”

  He shot me a dirty look, like I was annoying him. “Because of what happened.”

  The hair rose on the back of my neck. “And what happened?”

  A heavy silence rolled over us as we walked toward the castle.

  “What happened?” I asked again.

  Another blasé shrug. “Someone killed most of the servants.”

  The words were like a fist to my throat. “Who? Why?”

  “I don’t know,” he said sharply. “Stop asking question
s.”

  “Most of them. But not all of them?” I was grasping at straws.

  “Not all of them.”

  Now, more than ever, I needed to hunt around for clues to Alice’s disappearance.

  “The ones who survived—”

  The guard held up a hand. “You ask too many questions. She is too curious, is she not?”

  The other nodded. “We will be making sure you do not indulge your curiosity.”

  I was starting to understand these men would be guarding my door. And that would be a huge problem.

  Unless …

  I caught my foot on the back of my calf, pretending to stumble on the grass. And when I fell, I snatched a handful of the nightshade in my fists. “Oh dear! This grass is slippery.” I pretended to flail again for a moment, while I let my cloak fall around me, shielding the nightshade.

  Grumbling, one of the guards helped to steady me.

  In the pouring rain, we climbed the steps up to the castle doors. Even though it was my second time coming in here, my breath still caught at the grandeur, at the intricate stonework so high above me as I stepped inside.

  As the guards escorted me through the halls, my mind whirled. This would be my one chance to explore. I’d need to make the most of tonight.

  If I was correct, the guards wouldn’t remember much of the evening. With an empty bottle of wine or two at their feet, they would assume they’d drunk themselves into a stupor. If I was wrong and they knew what I’d done, I could find myself on that scaffold, my neck on the execution block.

  I tightened my fists around the nightshade.

  We climbed the long flights of stairs in silence, and I considered how to get the soldiers to let down their guard around me. Getting people to like me was not part of my skillset, but I’d seen how some of the other thieves did it. I’d seen Zahra soliciting new clients.

  So as we walked up the stairs, I sighed and said, “Sure seems lonely in this place.”

  The soldiers didn’t respond. One of them walked silently behind me, the other in front. With one of my hands, I clutched the nightshade in my cloak. With the other, I traced my fingertips up the rail as we climbed the stairs.

  Let me try again. “What do you two men do for fun?”

  No answer again. I was going to have to properly flirt, wasn’t I?

  I turned to the man behind me, and tried to give him Zahra’s signature look—head tilted down, from under my eyelashes. “Don’t you have fun?”

  He had thick eyebrows and small, blue eyes. “For fun? We drink, and we fuck. Like everyone else.” His Clovian accent was thick, with rolling R’s. He nodded at the stairs. “But neither with you. You’re off limits. So keep moving.”

  Off limits.

  Drinking was the only idea I needed. By the time we got to my room, I was desperate to get away from them to concoct my little soporific potion.

  Except when they opened the door, I found I wasn’t alone.

  Lord Sourial sat at the large table, sipping from a flask. He’d also brought several bottles of wine with him, it seemed. In the hexagonal room, the candlelight danced back and forth over the stone walls, over Sourial’s bare chest.

  “I’ve been waiting for you. Why do you look like you’re up to no good?”

  17

  Lila

  The corner of his mouth quirked, and a lock of his wavy hair fell in front of his eyes. He struck a louche pose, his feet resting on a chair, a flask dangling from his hand. A little stack of books sat next to him on the table.

  “What are you up to, Zahra? What are you hiding?”

  Bollocks. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m not sure I like that greeting. And here I thought we were friends.”

  “It’s late. Shouldn’t we go to bed?”

  An eyebrow quirked. “After only one kiss? It is sad when women get attached so quickly, but I suppose it’s the burden I must bear, given my godlike face.”

  I gave him a sour smile. “Not together. I think I’ve had enough of men for one night.” I still clutched the deadly nightshade under my cloak.

  He stretched one of his arms over his head, giving me a view of his abs. “You returned from the party early, and it’s not even nine. Who goes to bed before nine?”

  I eyed the comfortable-looking bed. “Sounds lovely to me.”

  “Well, I’m supposed to teach you to read.”

  I needed him out of here. What would happen if he saw my fistfuls of poison? “Not tonight. I really need to sleep.”

  Amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Oh, dear. Were you under the impression that you had the freedom to make choices for yourself here? I’m not sure how you got that idea. That’s not how any of this works.”

  I gritted my teeth. It seemed I’d have to wait a bit before I could poison anyone, and I’d have to hide this. “Fine. But I’m drenched from the rain. I need to change my clothes.”

  He waved a hand at me. “Oh good. I was worried this would be boring, but if you’re taking your clothes off, I suppose that makes things more interesting.”

  “You need to leave the room.”

  He cocked his head, frowning. “You’re awfully shy for a courtesan. It’s frankly a bit perplexing. Was it a hole in the sheet situation?”

  “I’m a complex person. If you’re not going to leave the room, then close your eyes.”

  Still clutching the nightshade under my cloak, I crossed to the wardrobe. I cast a quick look back at Sourial to make sure he was closing his eyes, and found him looking in the other direction, languidly sipping from his flask. I pulled open the wardrobe and dropped the nightshade in the bottom.

  Then, I took off my cloak, wondering if Sourial was watching me. A quick look over my shoulder told me he was still looking away, so I pulled off my gray dress.

  My mind kept going back to the fact that most of the servants had been killed. Most. Alice could have been one of them, assuming she worked here.

  As I hung up the dress, I asked. “Sourial? Do you know about any servants here who were murdered?”

  “How did you know that?” he asked sharply.

  I felt my blood running colder, and dark anger slid through my bones. “Who murdered them?” I pulled on a fresh, simple gown of black. They hadn’t given me any underwear, so I’d just go without for now.

  “Why are you so interested in servants? And how did you find out this bit of information?”

  “I had a friend who might have worked here. Her name was Alice. I wanted to know what happened to her.”

  When I turned to look at him again, I found that he was staring at me, shadows pooling in his eyes.

  “They were massacred in the Tower of Bones.” Instead of lounging casually on the chair, his entire body had gone tense, leaning forward. “I don’t know what happened to them, or why. Someone killed them. I thought it was perhaps one of their own. Someone who lost her mind. Your kind is … prone to madness. We were never able to find out exactly what happened, but it wasn’t our soldiers.”

  I felt myself sinking. “Did any survive?”

  “The bodies had been thrown into the river, so it’s hard to know. Perhaps.”

  By now, Sourial seemed to have composed himself a little, his eyes faded to hazel. As he sipped from his flask, his rings sparkled in the candlelight.

  But the sense of fear, of loss, was rising higher in me. Since Alice had gone missing, the logical part of my mind assumed she was dead. Otherwise, I would have heard from her at some point. A letter or a visit. Yet I just didn’t feel it. Easy to live in denial when you don’t have facts confronting you.

  Breathing deeply, I reminded myself that I didn’t even know for certain that she’d been working here. She’d just disappeared, and all I had to go on was that Finn once saw her carrying cloth to the castle gates.

  I crossed back to the table, pulled out a chair at a respectable distance from him, and poured myself a glass of wine. I wanted to get this all over with fast, so I could begin searc
hing for clues. Tonight would be reserved for skulking in the shadows.

  Sourial pulled a small book from the stack and opened it. Its yellowed pages gave it an ancient look, and each page had a single, hand-drawn letter on it. Clearly, the book had been made for children, but I supposed I had to walk before I could run.

  I peered at the first page—a drawing of a faded red apple, the next a ball, then a cat.

  “Do you know the alphabet?” He asked.

  I cleared my throat. “Of course I know the alphabet.” Sort of.

  “Can you name the letters?”

  I wasn’t actually sure that I could, but I pulled the book into my lap, and started trying to name each one.

  But half my mind was on the mystery of the murdered servants. As I tried to focus, I knew I was getting some of the letters wrong, and Sourial’s corrections only made me more flustered. We went through it again, and I tried to name the letters and sounds that went with them, but it wasn’t always intuitive.

  Sourial had me go through it again, and again, until I started to memorize the letters and the sounds they made. Valuable as it would be to read, this wasn’t my priority right now.

  I closed the book. “That’s it for tonight.” I rubbed my eyes. “It’s hard to imagine going from this to reading actual books with meaning.

  He shrugged. “It’s not even ten yet.”

  “Too late for me. And what is all this for?”

  “For the job Count Saklas has in mind for you. You will need to seem closer to being his equal than you are now.”

  “Hmmm. I don’t think there will ever be anything equal about us.” He was, after all, an evil being who belonged in Hell, and I preferred to think a bit more highly of myself.

  My gaze flicked to the door. I wanted to ask where to find the Tower of Bones, but that would definitely arouse suspicion. So I stretched my arms above my head and pretended to yawn.