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“Thanks. I didn’t know what to do with the box.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I clasped my hands in front of me, discreetly attempting to eye his body.
He was muscular yet lean. In this lighting I was able to see what I’d felt the previous night when my fingers had grasped his shirt.
His smooth skin was broken into sections of scars. I didn’t know then that they were spread out like this—one of his elbows, the back of his right forearm. From what I’d felt last night, I knew the worst of it was on his back.
The scarring on his face was harder to see, it was nearly the same complexion as him. I wondered what happened to cause this. He hadn’t reacted in pain when I touched him, but I knew however this occurred had been an extremely painful experience.
That realization had a burst of anger flaring within me. I was disgusted that someone could do this to another human being.
It didn’t take away from his attractiveness in the slightest. Like Luce, he had a unique beauty that was all his own.
I knew my attempt to be discreet had failed, but he didn’t point out my ogling. He gave me a friendly smile that was hard not to return.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” I replied before he could finish asking. I was beyond the point of hunger by this point.
The ache in my stomach had ceased and left behind a steady pang.
“Follow me.” He walked away without checking to see if I did as he asked. I was near desperate to have something of substance—he didn’t need to worry.
Whatever he had on kept trickling to my nose, the smell reminding me of honey.
I took in my surroundings as we returned to the lower level. I wouldn’t go as far as calling the place a house. The shape was all wrong, and I remembered what the exterior looked like from the night before.
It could’ve been a factory, but it wasn’t quite that industrialized. Wherever I’d been brought, the building was well maintained and full of nice furnishings. The air was cool as well, another exuberant and rare luxury for most. This coupled with the room containing various goods had my desire to know who these people were magnifying.
As we bypassed a black circular couch, there was a painting on the floor in front of it impossible not to notice. A bold red Baphomet was encased in the same type of pentagram that was hanging on one of the walls.
The symbol painted on the front door of the farm came back to me.
“This was at that house.”
“Yeah. My dad tagged it years ago. We’ve freshened it up a few times since.”
“What does it stand for?”
“It’s a key part of our faction,” Cam explained.
“Demons?”
“I guess we’re something like demons. We do follow a devil.”
A devil. Not the devil.
So they weren’t Lazarus. I should’ve known that by now. That group was extremely secretive with their whereabouts. I doubt they brought in many random outsiders. Besides, Samael had his own revered nickname.
What confused me was the tattoo beneath their eyes being nearly the same.
No wonder his had looked so familiar. Most factions wanted to be unique and stand out amongst the others. The Lazarus now had double insignias similar to two other factions. I was tempted to ask him about it but then thought it better to keep my mouth shut.
Who knew what asking questions would get me or potentially disclose? Cam seemed much friendlier than Luce, but that didn’t mean anything. A friendly face didn’t make the person wearing it harmless or innocent.
“Have a seat.” Cam gestured to a long table, continuing to the kitchen. “Is there anything you don’t like? Allergies?” he asked, pulling open the fridge.
