I stumbled back, dizzy with desire and confusion. “How could I cut you? You do not bleed.”
“I bleed,” he said. “Reach into my chest. You will pull out the heart of a man who can bleed in your hands.”
I did not know what to say. I could not see how his words could be true, but the intensity of his attention and the sincerity in his tone made me unable to see how I could do anythingbutbelieve him.
“Ahh, see.” He stepped back. “How sharp are your claws. And here I ran all the way back to be by your side.” He had misread my confusion as coldness.
I didn’t hasten to correct him. “What draw is there to me, lord?”
He smirked. “A woman who stood before death. A sorceress with power beyond measure.”
I laughed. “I am not those things.”
“Not quite,” he said. Then he did something he’d never done before, something that shocked me completely. He sank heavily into his chair and sighed, a bone-weary sigh. “You are one of the strongest mortals I’ve ever met.”
The fire crackled in the silence. I was so unnerved I didn’t know what to do. I was used to the dynamic of a remote, immortal master. I did not know what to do with this figure on the other side of the desk who slumped.
“Are you well, Renaud?” I asked, soft, so as not to scare away the glimmer of man that showed through the cracks of his immortal facade.
He did not answer but lifted his hands and slowly removed his gloves.
My heart raced at the sight of his long, white fingers. He simply held the gloves, hands resting on his leg. His gaze lingered on the leather an overlong moment and I could swear we were both remembering.
“It was terrible without you here today,” I said.
“You’ve worked so hard,” he replied. “I’ll admit that I was surprised to return and find you still hard at work.”
He couldn’t know of my wanderings. My near death in the garden, I thought. But I wanted to be sure. “I was not so studious as you think.”
He glanced at me; eyebrow quirked.
There was something in it all that gave me a burst of power, a sense of familiarity. Maybe I did know what to do here. What ways to press. “I went exploring. I was curious,” I said.
“Did you go into the forest again?” he demanded.
“Of course not.”
“Where did you go?”
“The ballroom. Your library. Some bedrooms.”
He didn’t look at his own bedchamber, but I could have sworn I saw him resist it.
“I went to your room,” I told him so he would think I was unafraid and honest. “I couldn’t help myself.”
He stayed perfectly still. Perfectly unreadable.
“I saw your secret door. I imagine you keep your heart locked behind it. In a place I could never touch.”
His shoulders dropped. “My heart?”
“Oh, I know Death can have no heart. That’s why you keep your mortal one locked away.”
His fingers drummed thoughtfully, and he looked at me with this frozen kind of smirk fixed on his face. I could not discern his thoughts, except that he looked maybe amused. Finally, he gave me that sharp-toothed predator’s smile. The one that made me equal parts terrified and excited. “Join me, Salomé. In my bedchamber, for dinner.”
I nearly crowed but managed to hold it tight in my chest. I gave a dignified bow instead. “Of course, my lord.”
“I look forward to seeing you there.”
