“Maybe. A little bit. He’s easy to like. I think maybe I’m the frosty one.”

  “You don’t say!” He grinned. “He doesn’t have to be bad when he turns fae, you know. I don’t think he will be. He’s different from them. His time with us has changed him. And he wants to prove himself to you. He wants to be part of what we do. He wants to help people and prove himself to you.”

  “Gods, after last night, he has nothing to prove. I didn’t know he could shoot like that.”

  “I taught him.” A touch of color warmed my brother’s face, making his few freckles stand out. “He has a good eye. You mean a lot to him, you know. You helped him, taught him all about the Dark Ones, things I couldn’t teach him. I should have told him what he was. I screwed up there. That was my fault. And him getting caught out by the elves, that’s on me too. Without you, he’d be different, I think.”

  “I taught him how awful his people are. How awful he… is.”

  “He won’t be like them.” He believed it. I hoped he was right, for his heart’s sake. “After what his parents made him do to you… he’ll never trust them again. He hates them.”

  Maybe, but we wouldn’t know where his allegiance truly lay until he turned fae.

  “Listen, about Raphael and me, it isn’t what it appears.” Some of the light-hearted shine went out of my brother’s eyes. “Before you get angry, will you let me explain?”

  He let me talk, and I found once I’d started, I couldn’t stop. I told him everything, like I used to. And gods, I needed to tell someone. I even told him how I had formed a bond with Raphael before he lost his soul but hadn’t given my feelings any thought at the time, and now it was too late. I told him about the station marking Rafe, about Lilith’s reaction, and about how Rafe refused to answer if he was manipulating me. And through it all, my brother listened, like he always did. We’d grown apart since Gerome’s death, and I didn’t understand why, but walking Rome’s streets with him and having time to talk had me grateful I still had him.

  He mulled over my words, leaving me in suspense. He sighed. “Your life is complicated.”

  “Is that all? What do you think? About Lilith and Raphael?”

  He shrugged. “I think Raphael already has his soul back.”

  “What? No, he can’t—”

  Kensey waved a hand. “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

  “No, not at all.”

  His frown seemed to say I was an idiot. “Lynher, if he were soulless, you’d be in chains, I’d be dead, and he’d have the key to the station.”

  “What! No! I would never let anyone take the k—”

  “You’ve told me how he had Lilith on her knees and how he’s never hurt you. He’s powerful. If he had been grooming you all this time, he could have taken the station key time and time again, and it’s unlikely you could have stopped him. I don’t know much about demons, but I know they’re not friendly.”

  “I’m marked. Until recently, he wasn’t. He couldn’t get to the key.”

  His sympathetic smile reminded me of when Gerome would look at me with disappointment because I’d forgotten some vital part of Dark One knowledge—again.

  “There are ways around the mark,” he said. “Lilith showed us that. And Raphael befriended you years ago. He lost his soul, that much is clear. And when he did, you said he was very different. If he was going to strike, it would have been then. He didn’t. So how has his behavior been lately?”

  I recalled waking to find Rafe on my bed, watching me sleep, and how I’d found him draped in the chair, staring at the ceiling, as though lost in thought. He’d spent more time with me during these past few days than at any time before. All of those things could be for multiple reasons, but they did not feel like the actions of an aggressor. “He’s annoying.”

  “Annoying?” Kensey chuckled. “C’mon, Lynher, you’re smarter than this.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Etienne is annoying when he wants to be. You’re annoying. A pen running out of ink is annoying. Soulless demon knights aren’t annoying, Lynher, they’re sociopathic. The station marked him; it doesn’t do that for vicious assholes.”

  “It did for Jack.”

  “It did that before our time, and we don’t know enough about those circumstances to make any assumptions.” Kensey frowned, his face oddly comical. “I don’t like the fact Raphael is a big part of your life, so it pains me to say this—you can’t see he’s restored because you don’t want to. If he’s soulless, you have an excuse to keep him at arm’s length, but if he’s your friend again, then the feelings you had for him before are still there, and that scares you. Scares me too, if I’m honest. I don’t like him, but you do.”

  “I…” What was I supposed to say to that? “I don’t like Raphael.” Even I heard the stupidity behind that statement.

  He gave me a pitying smile. “I didn’t want to love an elf, but here we are.”

  “Love?” I laughed. “I do not love Raphael. What you have with Etienne is different. Rafe is… an incubus. I mean, that alone means anything between us—and there isn’t anything—is impossible. He consumes emotions. I might as well fall in love with a vampire and wait for them to kill me. It’s absurd.”

  Kensey turned back to the window and leaned on the sill, holding himself close to the glass so his breath misted the surface. “If he were soulless, he wouldn’t have come to you here.”

  “He says he came because he has to stay close. It’s all part of being a knight.”

  “You believe that?”

  “Yes?”

  “He’s lying, and you need to question him to find out why. I’ve seen you work. You have ways of getting what you want out of the Dark Ones. Stop avoiding the truth. Pin him down and get your answers because he won’t give them up without a fight.”

  Chapter 12

  “My strength is lesser here,” Rafe had said. I was about to test that theory. First, we had a mission, which was why I lay on my belly on the ground, still warm from the sun, and used Angelo’s binoculars to scan the station from a distance.

  “I see faint movement at the windows.”

  “I can nip inside and look around?” Rafe lay beside me, his chin propped on his hands. He still wore his Average face, just in case Angelo’s people spotted us. I’d decided this version of him was more dangerous than the winged and horned version. Average Rafe was a trap that made me think him normal and harmless. But I knew his game and refused to let his normalcy lull me into a false sense of security.

  “You said you almost lost your tail last time.”

  “It could have gone worse.”

  He was in good spirits this evening. I’d need that for what was to come. “No, I still see them in there.”

  “Is my jar in there too?”

  “Yeah…”

  He made a small noise, like a growling huff. “And I suppose you’re the only one who can find it?”

  “That’s what you wanted.”

  “I didn’t envisage an army of ghouls getting in the way.”

  “Rafe, what is in the jar?”

  He sighed, rested his head on his hands, and looked up at me, his eyes big in the waning light. “Nothing. Just answers, freedom, a life.”

  “Oh well, if that’s all, it doesn’t matter, then.”

  His eyes flared before he caught my wry smile. “You’re not amusing, Lynher Aris.”

  “Aren’t I?” I shoved from our hiding place. “Come, my dark knight, before the darkness descends upon us and the monsters come again.”

  Sparks bloomed in front of me, delivering Rafe into my path. “Okay. Stop. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Your smiles are more unnerving than all the creatures out here with us.”

  “There are creatures out here?”

  “Small ones. Don’t change the subject.”

  “Huh…” I jogged around the overgrown tumbles of rocks and bricks and down onto the old streets back to the hotel.

  He hung back when we reached the front door. His instincts were on to something. He could sense my emotions, and they made him nervous.

  We walked through the hotel, smiling at those we passed. Rafe stopped a few times to chat with some while in his Average suit, but the moment he stepped through the bedroom door, he shed that skin in favor of his usual attire and appearance, leaving the wings hidden.

  “Lock the door,” I told him.

  The lock snicked.

  I draped my borrowed coat over a chair, rolled up my sleeves, and turned to find him a few feet away, staring intently.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Sit.” I sat, showing him it was perfectly safe, and patted the covers beside me.

  “Hell no.”

  Damn his instincts. “I don’t bite.”

  “I’m certain that’s a lie.”

  “Raphael… we need to talk.”

  “We do?”

  “When did you get your soul back?”

  He blinked, going still, and then his internal shutters came down and his face turned neutral again, his body fluid as he ventured closer. But I’d seen the slip. Kensey was right, and if Kensey was right, the demon coming closer to stand over me was my friend again.

  He’d stood in a similar position with Lilith on her knees, but this Rafe was different. This one was different from the one who had paced inside a summoning circle and spoken to me like I was filth he’d rather wash away than look at. That Rafe had been soulless and cold and vicious. This Rafe wasn’t like that and hadn’t been for a long time.

  Kensey always saw the best in people… and in demons, apparently.

  His wings slowly appeared, their arched glory revealed inch by inch, and the dual colors of his eyes shone with otherworldly magic that flowed in his veins. He’d hardly changed in all the years I’d known him. He’d only been different without his soul. He was capable of pretending—he did it all the time—but some things couldn’t be faked, like the way he looked at me now like I was the only thing that mattered. I’d ignored it before, brushed it off as Rafe being Rafe, but I saw it now.

  His warm fingers caught my chin, keeping me looking up. “What makes you think I have my soul back?” He skipped his fingers from my chin and skimmed them lightly across my lips.

  “Everything.”

  “Then you’d be wrong.”

  I wasn’t. The more I thought back, the more I was sure. He’d been afraid for me on the platform when I’d walked out of the dark with Jack and Caine fighting behind me. He’d feared for my well-being after I’d returned, demanding I eat. But it was more than those little things. His touch when I’d thought he’d been about to commence our deal hadn’t been the claiming touch of an incubus about to feast, but a reverent one, as though he’d been afraid to touch me. And no incubi feared touch, unless it meant more to them. And it could only mean more if he had a soul.

  But I had to know for certain.

  He leaned down, hovering his mouth close to mine. I waited, every muscle aching to close the distance between us, to kiss him hard and drag him down with me.

  “This feels like a trap.” His words brushed my lips, so close I couldn’t tell if his mouth touched mine or if my imagination was filling in the blanks.

  He straightened and stepped back, then pointed a finger at my face and chuckled. “I know you. What were you going to do, hmm?”

  “Kiss you?”

  His eyes narrowed. “No, that wasn’t it.” He looked around the room and settled on the pillows, then rushed in and lifted both, exposing the coil of rope I’d hidden beneath.

  “Kinky…” he said. “I like it, but no.” He threw a pillow at my face. By the time I’d batted it aside, he’d lifted the rope and was running its length through his grip. “If you want to tie an incubus, you’ll need a hell of a lot more than frayed old rope, darling.”

  He tossed the rope at me as well. I ducked, and it sailed over my head, hitting the wall and then the floor with heavy thumps.

  Rafe folded his arms. The tip of his tail struck the boards, counting down the seconds. “After everything I’ve told you, you were going to tie me up?”

  All right, I’d hit an incubus sore spot. “You haven’t said anything, just vague suggestions about things that might have happened.”

  He was in front of me, moving too fast for me to defend against. A blink and I refocused on his too damn pretty face. “No,” he said. “You haven’t been listening.”

  A few dainty knocks sounded on the door. Rafe crossed the floor, tucking his demon self into Average skin just in time to unlock the door and fling it open, startling the scrawny woman standing in the corridor. “Yes?”

  “Oh,” a young woman squeaked. “I… I heard arguing. I just thought…”

  I had no idea who she was, but she seemed harmless, and she’d heard every word, plus the thumps of thrown objects.

  “We’re fine.” Rafe smiled, laying on a light touch of charm. Luckily for her, he only had a little charm to play with. “Thank you for your neighborly concern.”

  “Okay. You might want to… discuss your issues more quietly?”

  “We’ll take that under advisement. Thank you.” He closed the door on her face, pressed his palms to the wood, and bumped his forehead against the door.

  His wings popped out, like he’d been struggling to hold them in. If that happened around Angelo—

  He whirled and crossed the floor in three strides, coming at me like he was about to attack. I stood, if only to hold my ground, and then his hot mouth was on mine, his tongue thrusting in. Whatever feelings we’d been fighting exploded between us, lighting me up. He growled into me. Or maybe I growled into him. Madness drove my hands to stroke over the abs beneath his waistcoat, seeking hot skin, and that insanity had nothing to do with his magic and everything to do with me wanting to rip the waistcoat off, pin him down, and lick every inch of him. He rocked from my assault and pushed back, trying to reclaim control. I glimpsed his tail lashing, knew he was as furious as I was, and didn’t care. He’d damn well brought this on himself.

  He’d lied about his soul. He’d lied a lot.

  I clutched his waistcoat in my fists, yanked and twisted, switching positions, and shoved him hard onto the bed. His grin dazzled, and somehow that pissed me off more.

  The waistcoat buttons popped apart under my grip. I closed my mouth and tongue around a nipple and sucked. His hand shot to my hair and locked, trembling.

  He pushed. “I can’t,” he gasped, but then his shove eased.

  I flicked my tongue over his nipple again and sank my free hand down, past his navel. My plan had been to distract him with the idea of sex, his one weakness, and then tie him up and demand answers. But I hadn’t expected to have him at my mercy, and it felt so damn good.

  “We can’t!” He snatched my hand, stopping its path before it could get to its prize.

  I nipped at his chin and purred low, “Mm… we can.”

  “Lynher, dammit… stop.”

  “Why!” I lifted my head and peered into his bright, wide eyes. “Why? Because you care? Because your soul won’t allow you? Because for all your flirting and games, you’d never hurt me, and you can’t trust this, the same as I can’t trust it? Because I’m human and you’re demon, and this could go so very wrong? We both know it. We know it because we care for each other. Isn’t that right, Raphael?”

  Defeat and surprise wrung all the heat right out of him. He dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling. “Yes.”

  “Yes to what?”

  “To all of it, damn you.”

  “Your soul?”

  “I hate you sometimes, Lynher Aris. I hate how you twist the weakness of others around your little finger, using it like currency, and the way you sometimes smile like you know more than you’re letting on, and the way you’re looking at me now.” Shifting his weight out from under me, he propped his head on a hand, facing me down.

  I was lying on a wing, which couldn’t be comfortable for him, yet he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Yes, to my fucking soul,” he snarled. “It was supposed to be in that jar, where Lilith put it when she killed the phantom. She has a collection of them. It’s not in that jar because I stole it and set it free. My soul is right where it belongs, and you can’t tell anyone because if the demons know I’m like this, they’ll… It’ll be… difficult.”

  I’d known, hadn’t I? Just like Kensey had said. I’d sensed it but ignored it because Rafe having his soul back would mean my feelings were real. Feelings that wouldn’t help either of us.

  “Lilith’s butterflies are… souls?” I asked, focusing on that instead of how my heart thumped too hard, and how my body throbbed, and how I wanted to hook a leg around his, roll him onto his back, and kiss every inch I could find—because Raphael was back, and I’d missed him like I’d miss a piece of my soul.

  He reached for my face but stopped himself and curled his fingers back into a fist. “They aren’t real butterflies, but abstract versions, representations of souls she’s caught. They belong to people who dared to forfeit on a deal, or just anyone she doesn’t much like.”

  She had so many butterflies trapped in her jars. I’d thought them beautiful and fragile, and now I knew why. “Gods. Why did she retrieve yours when she’d seemed so determined you lose it?”

  “Control. Of me. It’s… She’s always wanted my soul in one of her jars. She used my feelings for you to trick us.” He stroked a finger down my jaw, the touch feeding a direct line of lust to where I wanted him inside, until he flicked my nose, which was much less erotic and not nearly as welcome. “We can’t do this,” he said. “Because I don’t trust myself not to hurt you in all the ways I can. And I care enough about you to stop this before it really starts. How’s that for honesty?”

  “I care too.” Admitting it didn’t hurt as much as I’d thought it would, but admitting it made me realize the sexual feast propped on his side was out of bounds.

  “I wasn’t gone when you tried to drag me back after the phantom attacked, just far away, and I heard you, felt you try to drag me off those tracks and onto the platform. You were fierce and unrelenting, like always.”

 

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