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Together, she and Cain got rid of the last of the gore from her hair so the bits wouldn’t clog the drain. He then turned on the hot spray of the shower and ushered her into the stall. Joining her, he said, “You didn’t simply execute them, though. You used your magick to hack them into pieces and then let them burn. Why?”
“I didn’t want a quick death for them.” Apparently, neither had her monster, since it had torn into them without actually killing them. “Remember the boys that took it upon themselves to end my life when I was a kid?”
“How could I fucking forget?” He soaped her down, not in the least fazed by the blood.
“Their families made my life hell for years. They’d been pushing to have me exiled since I was a kid. You might remember I told you that the keeper who should have tossed me over the falls was asked by the father of one of the boys to make me suffer first.”
Cain nodded. “He wanted the keeper to gouge out of one of your eyes.”
“Yes. Phineas also wanted him to rape and dismember me.”
His jaw hard, Cain squirted shampoo onto his hand. “Fucker.”
“Phineas was one of the mages who came for me tonight. With the exception of rape, he planned to carry out the other deeds once the Aeons were done with me. In his view, his son hadn’t done a damn thing wrong—I was nothing, my death was nothing. He wanted me to suffer.” She shrugged. “I decided to return the favor.”
“I’m glad you did,” he said, washing her blood-matted hair, still not a tiny bit queasy. “He deserved worse.”
Her monster was rather satisfied with that comment. Though it thought of him as part of Wynter’s circle, she couldn’t go as far as to say it liked Cain or cared to have his approval. But it did like hearing a compliment from a fellow predator. At that moment, it was close to dozing off, relaxed now that it had had its fun.
“The Aeons haven’t yet realized there’s a curse at work,” she said. “According to Phineas, they believe they’re struggling to fight the blight because only dark magick can counter dark magick.”
Cain snorted. “They know that it isn’t true. They simply don’t want others believing they’re weak.”
“I figured that.”
Once they were done showering, Cain turned off the spray and stepped out of the stall. As he wrapped a soft towel around her, he asked, “What aren’t you telling me?”
Oh, plenty of things. None of which she could share. Bar one. “Thereissomething else.”
“What?”
“Grouch saw me get taken. It turns out he didn’t alert my crew or anyone else. He just waltzed into the Irish pub like he didn’t have a care in the world.”
Cain’s eyes darkened to flint as rage all but pulsed in the air. A towel curled around his hips, he stalked out of the bathroom.
She followed, watching as he crossed to the internal phone.
He snatched it from the wall, pressed a button on the pad, and said, “Bring Grouch to the Keep. He may still be in the Irish pub above ground. If not, search for him until you find him. You know where to put him.”
Fury coursing through him, Cain set down the phone. Twice the emotion had gripped him tonight, and he was struggling to let it pass. He wasn’t used to feeling such a depth of extreme emotion. It left him edgy and tense. A crawling sensation kept sweeping over his skin. Skin that felt too tight.
It didn’t fucking help that he knew Wynter was lying by omission.
He ground his teeth and rolled his shoulders. Turning to her, he found her standing very still, watching him closely. He crossed to her, drilling his gaze into hers, as if he might see something in the depths of her eyes that would give him answers.
“When I asked what you aren’t telling me, I meant about yourself. But you knew that, didn’t you?” He lowered his face to hers. “I’m not so easily sidetracked.”
“You’ll never tell me what skeletons are in your closet, Cain,” she said, calm and nonjudgmental. “Why should I tell you about mine?”
All right, she had a point there. Which he intended to ignore on the basis that he didn’t like it. “I want to know you. I want to know everything there is to know about you.” He tapped her temple. “I want to know what goes on up here.” He couldn’t even explain where this insane urge to have explored every part of her—inside and out—came from.
“Right back at you. We’re in the same boat here.”
“Are we really?”
She tipped her head to the side. “You don’t think so?”
“No, I don’t. I’m renowned for my jealousy issues, though I was never actually jealous of Abel—that story was pure bullshit. But I don’t like to share. It’s not because I’m a possessive individual by nature. I’m simply selfish that way.” Always had been. “With you, though, it’s more than a mere refusal to share you. I want you to belong to me so completely that I own your every fucking thought.”
