She licked her lips and straightened her spine. “He will be unable to track us.”
“True, he’ll use Ezekiel. He traces by blood, and he’s tasted mine.” At Sethios’s father’s command.
Caro gave him a secret smile, one that seemed almost sly. “Just as you’ve tasted mine.”
An odd comment, especially when accompanied by that grin. “Not in the same way, but sure.”
“No. That’s not what I meant. My blood grants you temporary detection immunity.”
He stared at her. “I’m going to need a better explanation.”
“The council sent me because I can’t be identified. It’s why Osiris didn’t recognize me as a Seraphim.” She spoke as though her explanation should be obvious to him.
“But I identified you immediately.”
She made an impatient noise. “You only knew because you saw me. My bloodline is the heart of aura concealment. I could be anyone, and while my essence runs through your system, no one can identify us.”
Well, shit.
As if he needed another excuse to bite her. Caro taunted him enough with all that creamy skin on display and her angelic aura. To know that she could also supply him with infinite protection by a mere sampling of her blood proved her invaluable to him.
Now Sethios had no choice but to well and truly keep her. Because she provided him an escape he never thought possible.
Having her compliance would be a benefit, but he no longer considered it a requirement.
“How long does it last?” he asked.
“As you are the first to ever imbibe my blood, I have no idea.”
Hmm, not the answer he wanted. “If I’m the first, then how do you know your essence will keep me unidentifiable?”
She shrugged. “It’s expected. Seraphim gifts thrive in the bloodlines, and while some are more powerful than others, they work relatively the same. Take yours, for example. Exchanging Osiris’s bloodline with mortals grants them the gift of life, or, I suppose, resurrection. That’s how he’s been able to create an army of immortal abominations.”
Disgust colored her tone, indicating a potential avenue for exploitation. She’d indicated her distaste several times, including her disapproval of Sethios’s living status, but they could debate that later.
“You don’t approve of my father’s antics.” Not a question.
She snorted. “Whether I approve or not matters little to my superiors.”
“They have no intention of stopping him?” Because that went against his earlier theory about her real purpose here—to inspire a reason to intervene.
“If they intend to punish his actions, it will not occur soon.” Her voice darkened just enough to confirm her feelings on the subject.
“And yet, the prophecy stated I would be his demise, with the help of an unknown entity. Presumably, you.” He rose a brow. “Aren’t you the least bit intrigued by that?”
She chewed her cheek, considering. “This prophecy—what were the words exactly?”
“Ezekiel didn’t repeat it verbatim, but I intend to ask him at my earliest opportunity.” Which would be tricky given Sethios’s father’s involvement. “What do you say to working together until we know more?” He’d be keeping her regardless of her answer, but he’d try this approach first.
Caro narrowed her eyes. “You want my blood so you can remain anonymous.”
Lying to her earned him nothing. “Yes.”
Her glower lessened slightly at his honesty. “And what do I get in return?”
“Potentially, the opportunity to destroy Osiris.” Something she seemed to crave.
“Seraphim cannot die.” So practical.
