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There was nothing in that agreement he’d mentioned that said he’d be privy to her secrets. He clearly hadn’t sensed the entity she hosted—an entity that was totally chill right now and close to dozing again—so that was good. And since her monster wasn’t bound to her soul, he wouldn’t ‘feel’ it on touching said soul. In sum, she’d be able to keep him in the dark.
If accepting Cain’s offer was a bad idea, she’d have received some sort of warning from the deity who’d branded her by now—She was seemingly full of opinions and often interfered with this or that.
The thing that most encouraged Wynter to accept his offer was that this dude was mostdefinitelya match for the Aeons. He wouldn’t tremble in his boots if they tracked her to Devil’s Cradle. More, he’d be bound to protect Wynter from them.
But none of that meant anything if her crew weren’t on board with this, though she doubted they’d turn Cain’s offer down. They simply weren’t sane enough to be as wary as they should.
She glanced at each of them and lifted one brow. “Well?”
Delilah lifted one hand. “I’m in.”
“Same here,” said Xavier.
“I’m tired of running,” began Hattie. “I’m too old to keep doing it. I want to plant my derrière somewhere. This place is as good as any.”
When Anabel didn’t speak, Wynter gave her a gentle nudge and asked, “What about you?”
Anabel gave her a shaky smile. “We all have to die somewhere, so … yeah, whatever.”
Wynter shook her head.So morbid. Cutting her gaze back to Cain, she said, “All right, then; it looks like we’re staying.”
His eyes glinting with a dark satisfaction she didn’t quite understand, he held his hand out to her. “Then we have a deal?”
Wynter shook his hand. “We have a deal.”
A swish of power curled around their joined hands, warm and binding. At the same time, there was a curious shifting sensation in her chest. More lines of blazing pain whizzed along her palm, as if something was being carved into the skin wickedly fast.
She flipped over her hand to find a large ‘C’ on her palm that curved around a triangle that had a snake threaded through it. The mark was a little red and raw, like a laser had mere seconds ago gone to work on her flesh. The burn had faded though, so she guessed the redness would soon also vanish.
As he went through the same branding process with the others, she traced the mark on her palm carefully, marveling at how she felt no different than before despite apparently only now possessing partial rights to her soul. There was no sense of being shackled or owned or anything.
Done, Cain drained his glass and then smoothly rose to his feet. “Now I’ll have Maxim get you all settled. He’ll find you a place to live. He’ll also explain the rules and just why it would be a bad idea for you to ignore them. I’m hoping I won’t have to ever speak to you under other … more unpleasant circumstances.”
Wynter stood, and the others followed suit. “We won’t be breaking rules or making waves or anything like that.”
“Glad to hear it. I treat my own well. Until they displease me.” He paused, looking at her intently. “So don’t displease me, Wynter.”
Maxim ushered them into an office not far away from the parlor. Wynter glanced around the room. It was clean, masculine, and spacious. A little soulless, though, since it lacked any personal touches. The wood-paneled walls matched the hardwood flooring and sturdy office desk. Filing cabinets lined the wall. Above them were shelves on which folders and books were neatly stacked side by side.
Maxim took the chair behind the desk. “I don’t need background information, but I do need your forenames. Surnames aren’t required.”
Xavier cleared his throat. “It is good to meet you,” he said in a thick French accent. “I am Andre.”
Wynter sighed. “No, you’re not. Nor are you French.”
He only chuckled, the weirdo.
“You’ll have to excuse Xavier; he means nothing by it,” Hattie said to Maxim, hunching her shoulders and shuffling forward, playing the frail card hard. Of course, Maxim fell for it and was quick to help her into a seat, unaware that she ogled his ass and blew it a kiss when he turned away. “I’m Hattie,” she added. “By the way, I found out what anil—”
“Okay, so this here is Delilah,” Wynter quickly cut in. “And over there is Anabel. I’m Wynter.”
Back in his seat, Maxim scribbled down the names. “You have a choice to make. You can live on the surface of the town, or you can live in the underground city among the Ancients.”
Wynter frowned. “People don’t have to, like,earntheir way down there somehow?”
“No, that’s not how it works. Where you’ll reside is simply a matter of preference.”
Huh. Well, how about that. “What’s it like down there?”
