Page 37 of A Kiss From Death (Oath of Vengeance #1)

It’s like he knows I’m thinking about him, because he wears the smuggest smile now, looking proud of himself.

The last thing I needed was make him think he can control me, but I keep reminding myself I had good cause for bending to his will—though I’m not sure what my excuse will be the next time I crumble at his demands.

“I hate you!” I seethe up at him.

He chuckles again as his eyes turn heated, both obsidian in the dim hallway. He takes a step forward, his feet touching my knees now, and lifts my chin up with his thumb and pointer finger. “I don’t think you hate me at all, Nyxi.” I let out a small whimper but keep my face masked in anger.

I shake my head no, but he doesn’t buy it. Looking back and forth between my eyes, he speaks straight into my soul. “I think you hate that you don’t hate me at all. I think you might even like me.”

I go to spit on his shoe again, but he shakes his head at me in warning.

I dig my nails into my palms to stop myself from punching him straight in the dick.

I stand, fed up at this point, but he steps closer, backing me against the wall.

I’m trapped, our chests brushing with each deep breath.

I can’t think straight when his towering presence makes it hard to form complete sentences.

“I’m not a liar, and I promise, I would never waste a single precious second of my life thinking about you .” I’m not convinced with the words coming out of my mouth at this point, but I hope they come across strong enough to land the jab.

He has the audacity to laugh at my response, like he knows I’m pulling shit out of my ass.

He leans forward and scoops up one of my curls, slowly tucking it behind my ear as he whispers, “Should I go get Winston then and settle this once and for all? Because even without his Fib abilities, I can smell your lie for the shit it is.”

He’s so close, I can smell his overpowering smoke and sandalwood scent wrapping around me.

Fuck him and his giant ego that has me questioning my sanity and morals.

Just a couple inches separate our lips, and if I wanted to, I could easily find out exactly how his full lips would taste on mine.

Instead, I draw my knee up, slamming it into his balls, giving him a personal relationship with my signature move.

He doubles over but chuckles, knowing he’s won this round. “Open the fucking door, Hade.” I growl the words, leaving no room for question. “I held up my end of the bargain, and now, it’s your turn. ”

He nods while holding his balls protectively and shuffles past me, wrapping his hand around the handle as shadows slither down his arm to push the door open. The damn thing doesn’t burn his hand off like it did mine, though I secretly wish it did.

He strides in, gesturing me inside with his arm, and then plops down into a weathered chair sitting in the center.

I guess the permanent indent must be from him, meaning he spends a decent amount of time here.

He leans back in the chair, crossing his legs and propping them up on the coffee table.

He pulls a book up that was wedged between the side of the chair and settles in to read.

I stand frozen just inside the door, not sure what to do now. Looking over the top of his book, he gestures with his arm. “Browse away, little hellion.”

Looking around, I take in the tall shelves packed with all types of books. It doesn’t look like they are organized in any particular order, which only makes it harder. I’m inside, though, and that’s a small win for today.

The thick odor of aged paper permeates the air, making me relax.

There’s something about the scent of bound paper that comforts me.

Each of the bookshelves differ in size, height, and color, creating a collage that oddly makes sense.

I can tell which shelves are used more often, while others carry a thick coat of dust on them.

I assume the untouched shelves might be the best start to my investigation.

Walking to the back left corner of the room, I approach the first dusty shelf and crouch down, starting at the bottom. The spines hold different titles ranging from agriculture to health remedies. I make my way up to the top shelf, but nothing seems to peak my interest.

I move to the next shelf over, bending down to start my search again.

There must be thousands of books in here, so I don’t get my hopes up; I can at least make a dent today.

I continue down the line, finding books about different recorded sicknesses, species of poisonous plants, and how to forge weapons.

Every so often, I catch Hade watching me from over the top of his book, but I try not to acknowledge him. I can feel his eyes burning into the back of my head without even looking at him. His overbearing presence is thick and palpable.

He catches me staring and winks at me over his book just as something bumps into the back of my head. Ow! Before I can turn to see what hit me, my eyes snag on a book floating through the air and into Hade’s waiting hand.

“Really, is your aim so bad, you couldn’t avoid hitting the one person inside this giant room?” I massage the back of my head to dull the tingling. It didn’t hurt that bad, but he doesn’t need to know that. “And how did you even do that?”

“Trust me, my aim is superb in everything I do. I never miss.” He smirks. “You were looking a little tired, so I thought I would help you out. You’re welcome. As for the floating book, I feel like that is self-explanatory. Magic .”

He starts reading his new book, dismissing me, but I scoff in frustration. “Use your words, Nyxi,” he snarks without looking up at me.

Planting my hand on my hip, I glare at him. “No shit it’s magic. I want to know how it works. If you could please be so kind as to explain, sir! ” I grit out, pushing his buttons to their max. This game of push and pull is like an addiction, even with how hard I try to stop myself from playing.

I have his attention now. Closing his book, he plants his feet back on the ground and sits straight. “Each book in here has been spelled. If you know the title of the book and think it in your head, it will come to you. It’s as simple as that.”

“And if you don’t know the exact title of the book, then what?” I ask .

He ponders my question for a moment. “I have every title memorized, so I’m not quite sure.

I would assume if you were to think about a specific topic, maybe it could call to you.

But you have to factor in that there are many similar books in here, and that could turn into chaos quickly, so I wouldn’t advise.

” He leans back in his chair, bored of this topic, and dives into his new book.

Thinking this over, I return to my hunt for answers.

I snag a few books along the way that may be promising, books about the history of Lunaria and the limits of magic.

They are all factual and to the point, but it couldn’t hurt to flip through them later.

There could be a detail in one of them that can lead me in the right direction.

I let out a big yawn, about ready to retire to my room, but I decide to try something first. Closing my eyes, I call to the books around me and recite the riddle in my head.

I wait and wait, but nothing happens. No books fly through the air or spark my attention.

Trying again, I decide to change tactics.

Calling to the books again, I simply ask them for answers.

Nothing happens at first, but when I go to leave, my feet won’t let me move.

It’s like my body is pulling me away from the door.

Closing my eyes, I reach inside myself, feeling around for that pull again.

Like an invisible rope, I latch on to the feeling, and my body takes over, dragging my feet across the room until I’m standing in front of a bookshelf hidden in the corner.

My eyes search the shelf and catch on a row of brown, leather bound books with no titles on their spines nestled at the bottom. They’re uniform in size; there has to be at least twenty of them pressed together.

Looking over at Hade, I make sure he isn’t watching me as I snag the first one off the shelf. Peeling it open, I realize it’s a journal. There’s a name carved into the front, but it’s so weathered, it’s impossible to read.

I briefly flip through the pages, noticing handwritten entries each dated by age.

I’m not sure whose journal it is, but I know there must be something inside to help me.

I slide it under my cloak to hide it away.

I know Hade is okay with me taking a few history books to read, but I don’t think that applies to someone’s journal collection that is obviously important and hidden for a reason.

I’ll start with one and slowly trade them out so he won’t notice.

Walking back over to Hade, I tap his shoulder. “Thank you, Death Reaper . It’s always a pleasure.” I fake bow, mocking him with as much sarcasm as I can infuse into my tone. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get out of your hair and leave more room for your giant ego.”

I go to walk away, but his hand darts out, tightly gripping my wrist. “I’ll walk you back.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” I grunt, trying to pull my arm from his hand.

“You make it sound like I was giving you a choice.”

I go to say something snarky, but I decide better.

Schooling my features, I nod to him once.

He can’t possibly know I stole one of the journals, but it’s not smart of me to push his buttons right now and possibly out myself—or even worse, drop the journal in front of him.

My body loves to turn to mush when Hade’s involved, and I’d rather not have to explain myself out of that one.

Oops, sorry, sir, I didn’t notice there was a journal stashed under my arm. How silly of me . Yeah, no thank you.