I hurried downstairs, gave William a reassuring nod as I passed him, and cued Jamillah to continue. Her invoking the spell from the front door should have sent up all types of alarms.The powerful trio clearly didn’t want anything to do with this. They weren’t risking Cirrian getting even a glimpse of them. The last of the invocation slipped out as Jamillah closed the front door, their quick departure leaving me standing next to William, splitting our attention between the front door and the sigils of the enclosure that would house the shadow god.
Minutes passed and nothing came of the magic that had thickened the air. Then, without warning, the trinket placed near the enclosure flared a vivid yellow before it faded to black and cast an ominous darkness inside and out. The moon was eclipsed by a shadow, and the dusk-to-dawn lights on every garage in my neighborhood blinked out. Even the fairy lights strung across the bushes of the house across the street went dark. Several tense minutes were spent blanketed in darkness.
My short, shallow breaths filled the eerily quiet room. William’s hand pressed against the small of my back but did little to relieve my uneasiness. If this didn’t work, Rachel would be my only plan, and it would move the timetable up substantially.
Heart thundering, I started to move toward the light switch when the house and the neighborhood was briefly flooded with brilliant bright light before returning to normal. Of course I’d be blamed for this weirdness, along with being the topic of endless neighborhood gossip. I didn’t know if my neighbors knew what I did for a living, but since moving into the neighborhood less than two years ago, the many vampires and known witches visiting me meant I got more looks of suspicion than greetings.
Crouched within the sigiled enclosure was the vanishing stranger from Cloak and Dagger. He stood, bringing his shoulders back to come to his full stature. He seemed taller than I remembered, or maybe it was his commanding presence. Haunting amber eyes rimmed with hunter green studied the chalked sigils on the hardwood floors. His attention snappedfrom the markings to my feet and dragged up my body. His head tilted. A glint of curiosity sparked in his eyes before he shifted as far forward as the ward would allow. His slow roving smile moved into a smirk.
There was no mistaking it. This was definitely the stranger I shared a fleeting moment with at the club. The cavernous eyes and distinctively carved features possessed a diametric combination of rugged and ethereal beauty. The appearance of such a man wouldn’t be easily forgotten. He ran his fingers through his espresso brown waves that were already tousled, I assumed from doing what he was now. His hair tapered low to the side, drawing my eyes to his full lips, aquiline nose, cleft chin, and the shadow that danced over the sharp angles of his features. He’d offer an astoundingly beautiful moment before death. It was unfortunate that the bodies he took didn’t get a chance to see him.
Shoving his hands in the pockets of dark-blue slacks meant the rolled-up sleeves of his crisp lighter blue shirt revealed forearm muscles that bunched and flexed with the slightest movement. The two undone top shirt buttons seemed strategic to offer a glimpse of his collarbone and the silver necklace displaying an infinity charm. I was unable to make out the engraving on it. Something about death standing in my living room dressed in business casual was off-putting. Okay, death anywhere near my house was off-putting, but this was especially so.
Admittedly, I’d been expecting something entirely different. A hooded robe. Relaxed linen tunic and pants. Or anything that gave off an air of macabre. And a scythe. Death in a tailored shirt and slacks was nowhere near the realms of my expectations.
My unmet expectations and disappointment seemed mirrored in his expression. Turning his gaze from mine, he surveyed the allotted space that provided access to a half-bathroom, one of the sofas, a cart of nonperishable food, and water. I’d even filled a cooler with more water, juices, cold brew coffee, and the few cans of pop I kept for guests who drank them.
I wasn’t a monster despite what this monstrous situation had forced me to do.
“Hi.” I waved. “I’m Kara.”
Silence. His unblinking eyes stayed on me.
“You’re Cirrian, right?”
His expression hardened, making me wonder if Mr. Silent and Rude expected me to address him as shadow god, Your Highness, My God, or some other highfalutin’ title.
More stifling silence made the room heavy and suffocating.
“I’m sorry,” I said. Holding someone in a magical prison when they hadn’t done anything specifically to me gnawed at me.
The stare deepened as if he was attempting to make out my words. I repeated my apologies in Spanish, French, Arabic, and Mandarin, the only languages I’d managed to learn basic greetings, apologies, and the simplest of questions in. Except for Spanish, I was a novice at best in most languages. If he spoke anything else, I was screwed. His dagger gaze continued to scrutinize me with calculated intrigue that made me feel exposed and cold. When they landed on my hands, I raised them and apologized in sign language while speaking the words.
His lip beveled into a smirk. “What are you sorry for, darling?”
Jackass! You know English!And from his speech pattern, I was damn sure he wasn’t deaf and required sign language.
Oh great, death is an asshole.
The cold, crisp way he said “darling” gave me the impression it was a warning instead of a misused term of endearment.
Inching closer, I made sure not to step over the sigils. “For locking you in here. It will only be for a few days.”
Strident eyes remained locked on me, narrowing as he studied my every move. Even the micro ones appeared to draw his focus.
“Someone cursed my friend and I need to find them. I couldn’t risk you taking her. It’s not her time to die,” I explained in a rush. I hated the tremulous and desperate sound of my voice.
“If she’s been cursed, her time to be collected will be soon,” he offered in a voice lacking any hint of compassion.
“The curse has been paused. But I don’t have a lot of time to undo it.”
His eyebrows drew closer together. I caught a flicker of admiration in his expression before he gave another cursory appraisal of the sigils between us.
“But there is a chance she might slip intointer, and I can’t have you take her.”
“Interis death. It’s naïve and cruel to see it as anything else. If she is your friend, do not prolong the inevitable.”
“Interisn’t death. If I remove the curse, she’ll be fine.” I said it with a level of confidence that Jamillah lacked when she’d said it to me. I wouldn’t let it get that far. I glanced at the clock across the room. Rachel would be arriving soon.
