Page 20 of Lucifer's Mirror

Not happening. I can’t let her have any power over me. Who knows how she would use that power—for good or evil—or just to break me.

“Don’t look at me like that, little girl,” I growl.

“I’m not little,” she snaps.

That’s not true. The top of her head doesn’t reach my chin when we’re standing.

“And look at you like what,Khaos?” Her eyes narrow on me. “Can I call you Khaos? It does seem to suit you.”

Hopefully, she will never experience just how well it suits me. “Like you think I’m the answer to every one of your romantic dreams,” I say. My eyes narrow onher. “I’m nobody’s fucking dream.” And that’s the gods-damned truth.

“Hah,” she mutters. “Tell me something I don’t know. Yeah, you might be pretty to look at, but that hardly makes up for your personality disorders.”

My lips twitch. She has no clue as to the extent of my disorders. Then I shrug. “Just be warned—don’t offer anything you might regret.”

“Ugh,” she mutters. Then she straightens and backs away. Very sensible. “I wasn’t offering anything.” She closes her eyes, and I can almost hear her counting in her head, getting that temper under control. Finally, she opens her eyes again. They’re a brilliant green. I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that intense before.

“Who am I?” she says.

I frown at the question. It seems an odd thing to ask. Is she testing me? “I already told you. I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

She almost growls. Then her eyes narrow as she studies me. “Okay, so let’s try an easier one. Who are you?”

“Khaosti.”

She looks daggers at me. “I could really do with a little more than that, Mr. I’m-a-werewolf.”

“I’m not a fucking werewolf,” I snap.

She gives me a bland smile. “You looked like a werewolf to me.”

I snort. But I’m actually enjoying the interaction. Strange. But then again, my reputation usually precedes me, and it would never occur to anyone who’s heard of me to try and tease me like this. “Yeah,” I say, “because you’ve seen so many.”

She sniffs disdainfully. “I’ve seen lots of movies. And you pretty much fit the bill.”

For a moment, I allow my beast to rise up, to seep into my eyes, and a low growl—or is it a purr?—rumbles in my throat.

Her eyes widen, and I presume she’s going to be sensible and back off. Instead, she grins. “Who’s a sensitive puppy dog now?”

I bite back a laugh. Gods, when was the last time I actually laughed? But I have to remind myself again that I know nothing of her, who she really is, what she is. Why Khendril sent her to me. And until I do, I can’t afford to let my guard down. I look her over and purse my lips. “You’d better be worth it.”

She sighs. “Whatcanyou tell me?”

I just stare at her—trying to figure out if she really is this clueless or if it’s all an act and she’s hiding something.

She gives another exaggerated sigh. “Okay, how about I start? And here’s something I suspect you don’t know about me, so I’ll want something equally interesting in return.” I don’t respond, and she continues, “I have absolutely zero memory of my life before three years ago.”

What?

That wasn’t expected but would go a long way to explaining a lot of things. “Go on…” I say.

“There’s not a lot else to tell. I was found three years ago in London, unconscious. There was nothing to identify me—no purse, no money, no clothes—that’s something that weirds me out—nothing. Except this.” She reaches up and tugs a pendant from under her T-shirt. It’s amber and about the size of a walnut. Her fingers stroke it almost lovingly, and heat washes through me. “Apparently,” she says, “it was clasped tightly in my right hand, so tight the people who found me couldn’t remove it until I awoke. It’s the reason I was called Amber.”

I study it. I can sense no magic, but something tells me it’s more than it seems to be.

“Anyway,” Amber continues, “I was in some form of coma, though they couldn’t find anything physically wrong with me. I woke up in the hospital a week later with no memory of who I was or where I came from.”

She’s still stroking the stone. It seems to be glowing slightly.