“Fine.” I looked around, inspecting other patrons with what I hoped was vague interest. In fact, I was ravenous for details.
“We’ll get a drink and see if you can glean anything with your magic,” he said.
“Right here?”
“Why not?”
“What if he didn't sit at this table? We can’t sit at all of them.”
“It will be good practice. And we need to sit for a bit and pretend to be here for a drink before we can go scouting for info.”
A server in a perfect black minidress approached. Before she reached the table, the Devil held up two fingers, and she nodded and disappeared.
I gave him an appraising look. “You might not have been here in a while, but they seem to know your order.”
“Indeed.” He didn’t elaborate, and I found myself desperate for more info.
The server returned moments later with a bottle of champagne and two flutes. Silently, she poured, then disappeared like a ghost. I had no eye for wine labels, but my first taste told me that this was the good stuff.
“Now, practice,” the Devil said. “Or we’ll save the city, and you’ll still end up in the dungeons of Black Church.”
I scowled at him. “I’ll get control of my magic.”
“Good. Show me.”
I drew in a steadying breath and rested my hand on the table, feeling the rich cloth beneath my fingers. Visions of people sitting here flashed in my mind, but none of them were our guy.
“I don’t see him,” I said.
“Can you ask a specific question?”
“I can try, but it doesn’t always work.”
“Let me help.”
My gaze flicked up to his. “How?”
“May I touch your arm?”
“Um, yes?”
His fingertips rested lightly against my bare forearm, a simple touch, but I liked it—too much. Magic buzzed over my skin. His magic.
I shivered. “What are you doing?”
“Think of it as a transfer of power. I’m giving you some of my control. The connection will help you find your own.”
“Wow.” My head felt woozy. We were bound in some cosmic way, two stars spinning through space. I’d suspected we were linked, and this confirmed it.
There was more to it than just magic, though. I could feel his inherent goodness, somehow. It wasn’t strong or overwhelming—maybe it was even a product of my imagination—but I could feel it.
I looked up at him. “I sense the kindness in you. You’re not all bad.”
“You have no idea what I’ve done.” The shadows in his voice made me shiver. “The atrocities you imagine that Vlad the Impaler committed? Worse. Ten times worse.”
I swallowed hard and looked away.
“Focus,” he ordered.
I blinked, trying. Work was safer than he was.
Visions flashed through my mind, and I tried to hone in on one in particular, a woman with dark hair who’d sat here last.
“It’s working,” I said.
“Good. Focus on the feeling of control. On where your magic is coming from inside you. It will help you in the future.”
I nodded, doing as he said. “It’s easier this time, but our guy never sat at this table.”
“That’s fine.” He withdrew his hand, and I felt the strangest sense of loss. “We’ll approach the bar under the pretense of wanting to taste some local wines, and we can ask the bartender.”
“All right.” I stood, leaving my emptied champagne glass on the table. I hated to leave the rest of the bottle, but there was no way I could drink more and still take care of myself, even with this enchanted dress. “Let me use the facilities, and I’ll join you.”
He nodded.
I turned and strode toward the toilets, finding them without too much trouble. As I passed the men’s room, I trailed my hand along the wooden door. Had our guy touched it? I used my new control to focus on the faces, but there were too many, a jumble of images I couldn’t decipher.
I headed to the women’s room, determined to practice more. Another patron was standing at the sink when I entered. Her eyes met mine in the mirror, and she gasped.
“You!” she said, her accent light and unfamiliar.
“Me?”
She turned to face me, swaying slightly and clearly a little bit tipsy. “You’re with him.”
“The Devil of Darkvale.”
“Yes.” She nodded, her tone wary.
“I am.”
“Be careful. He is not what he seems.”
“I’ve been getting that impression. But who is he?”
“He’s…you know.” She looked around as if to check that the room was empty. It was so silent that it had to be. “The Impaler.”
A chill raced through me. “Really?”
“Really.”
Did I believe her?
Yes.
I’d already known it, even though he’d never confirmed it. And now I was dead certain.
She was obviously worried about me. Concern radiated from her like perfume. She’d clearly had enough to drink that her guard was down.
“Just be careful.” Her voice was intense. “He has a terrible past here.”
“But it’s in the past?”
“Yes. Long ago, but… those things cannot be forgotten.”
The chill on my skin grew colder. “Thank you for the warning.”
She nodded. “I can show you the back way to sneak out, if you want.”
“Thank you, but I can’t. I am with him for a reason tonight, but I’ll be careful, I swear.”
She nodded, looking unsurprised, and left.
I watched her leave, her pink dress glittering under the light, and was struck again by the thought that drunk girls were the best people on earth.
As I finished my business and tidied up at the sink, I thought of the Devil. Of his many secrets. Of the goodness I’d felt in him when he’d shared his magic with me. But he’d also told me that he was worse than I could imagine.
Which one was the real man?
7
The Devil
Carrow emerged from the corridor. She glowed with an ethereal light that drew me to her, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
I leaned back against the bar and waited for her. The bartender had asked what I wanted when I’d first approached, but I’d made an excuse. I would wait for Carrow. We would need both of our skills for this.
My gaze followed her as she walked across the room. So did the gaze of every other man.
I clenched my fists, fighting back the desire for violence.
Rational thought pulled me from the precipice. I’d left that part of my life behind. I needed to atone. At the very least, I could refrain from tearing other people’s heads off. I was a pastime I’d once enjoyed, but my cold, dead heart recognized it as wrong.
Mostly.
Carrow stopped in front of me. She was close enough now that I could see the shadows in her gaze.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“Fine.”
Despite her small smile, there was something under the surface. Mistrust?
I couldn’t blame her. I wouldn’t trust me, either.