Page 7 of Where the Light No Longer Follows

He smirked as if she was in the possession of some grand power he’d always wanted for himself. “I want so much, Silene,” he drawled. “But I don’t wish to be greedy, so a day would suffice.”

“What day?” she asked, frowning at him.

“One of your days. For a day, you’re mine, not my brother’s.”

Silene swallowed, feeling taken aback at his request. His? What had he meant by his? “I don’t even know if that is possible.”

“It is.”

“I can’t serve you unless he lets me.”

“Not serve.”

“Then what?”

“Curious, curious, pretty Silene,” he cooed. “Patience.”

“What if he won’t let me?”

“He will let you when I ask him.”

Her lips parted without words. “Then why did you ask me when you can force me?”

He took a sip from his drink, his eyes still never leaving hers. “Because I’m a gentleman?”

Despite the many words she wanted to throw back at him, the five-hundred-year service Silene had completed under Death’s wing was enough to know that any battle started with Gabriel was a lost one.

Life had a penchant for cruelty.

Cruelty only he could deliver.

Cruelty she’d witnessed.

“Fine, have your damn day,” Silene blankly said, bringing out her pocket watch and flipping the metallic lid open to count down the seconds till the woman’s lifetime would end. “Now hand her to me.” The watch was still silent, the pointers frozen ten minutes to twelve as they had been stuck for at least a few hours now. This was how Silene had ended up there tonight.

Pushing from the velvety sofa, he stood and took slow steps in her direction, stopping only an arm length away from her, the closest he’d ever gotten to her. The space between them always seemed to grow closer and closer each time they’d met. “Tomorrow. Meet me on the rooftop of this building.”

“To do what?”

“What does my brother ask you to do besides this?” he said, raking his eyes all over her. “Besides tour guiding.”

“Nothing.”

“Then we will do nothing,” he said, stepping even closer, and Silene held her breath, expecting pain or something else to strike her. “Do I steal your breath away, pretty Silene?”

“Maybe you stink.”

He threw his head back and howled with laughter. Silene couldn’t help but stare at the column of his throat marked by dark tattoos, she couldn’t even stop thinking how it would feel to run her fingers down each of them and through his hair, too. She loved his hair. So soft, always glowing under sunlight, always casting shadows over his eyes to turn the vivid blue into an ocean of tempest.

Life was beautiful.

He’d just not been beautiful to her.

“What are we thinking of now?” he asked, his gaze snaring her. “The things I’d give to know what tortures you’re thinking for me.”

“I don’t think of you.”

“Let’s not lie.”