Page 47 of Death’s Kiss (The Order of the Tide Raiders #1)

The space between us is so small now that I can't breathe without brushing against him. Agni’s hands then unexpectedly plant themselves against the furniture-based wall on either side of my head, effectively caging me in.

I despise the rare feeling of true fear that begins pounding in my chest, and I hate how my breath hitches traitorously with it.

He tilts his beautifully carved face down at me in silent study.

“Because I’m bored,” Agni answers after a beat, his scar appearing even more ominous up close.

My eyes narrow in disbelief .

His smile is thin while explaining, “You see, your little northern isle is rather dull and dreary. There’s really not much here to garner my attention. I could use a source of— entertainment . This seems like the perfect opportunity.”

“I don’t see how me answering some questions would provide you any sort of entertainment,” I retort flatly, my eyes tight with suspicion.

His responding grin is like quicksilver as it flashes before me in the shadowy room. “You haven’t heard what I’m going to ask.”

Ignoring the tightening in my stomach, I snap, “ Fine . We’ll make an od then. You promise not to rat and I promise to answer five stupid questions.”

Agni sighs as if I'm being tiresome by forcing him into an official contract, but ultimately he inclines his head in agreement. “On the added condition that we use my blade. The gods only know where yours has been.”

“Then go get it,” I hiss back in annoyance.

His lips twitch before motioning with his chin down towards the waistband of his suit, while both his hands still rest against the wall on either side of my head. “You’ll find precisely what you were just ever so desperate for right down there. Go on—grab it.”

I pale, my affinity coiling tightly before throwing him a look of utter revulsion. “I will not you fucking prick .”

Agni lets out a sharp barking laugh at my outraged expression. He drops an arm away from the furniture backing to lift up his suit jacket, revealing the ruby hilt of his dagger peeking out from a sheath strategically sewn into his waistband.

His shoulders shake in amusement as I come to understand his words.

"Oh," I say quietly, and try to ignore the flush of embarrassment at my assumption by removing the dagger from its sheath. I take my time inspecting the uniquely jagged blade as it shines that odd ruby hue under the lights of our halo’s. It’s really quite an exquisite weapon.

Agni’s smoke-over-gravel timbre pauses my survey. “Not that I owe you any sort of explanation as to how I operate Boreas, but for your own reference—I enjoy only willing participants during my nighttime endeavors. And I can assure you, I’m never lacking in them.”

Looking away from his intent gaze, my attention returns to the dagger in my hands. I make quick work of cutting open my palm. The blade stings like none I’ve ever encountered and I hiss from the unexpected pain. After completing my own half of the od, I pass Agni back his weapon.

“What type of blade is that?” I ask with a wince, holding my hand gingerly.

Agni smirks while slicing easily across his own palm and watching a long crimson line spring to life. “An old one,” he answers simply after saying his own part in the od.

When he next holds out his hand to me, I blink in confusion.

“The od is done.”

Agni chuckles as his messy hair shifts in the faint light.

“The cuts can’t seal until we shake on them.

” I look at him like this might be some sort of trick and he sighs in annoyance before explaining, “It’s the blade.

If we don’t shake, then we’ll both eventually bleed to death.

But if you’re willing to take that chance, then far be it from me to—”

" Alright , alright,” I huff, holding out my wounded hand.

Agni takes mine in his and there’s a strange, sizzling sort of sensation between the two od lines when they meet. Something unexplainable begins to hum behind that icy wall enveloping the back regions of my mind. Almost like the distant buzzing of energy.

He drops my hand as if I’ve just given him frostbite, which I did technically threaten to do an hour or so ago. I pull my palm to my chest, keeping it in a tight fist as the strange feeling fades into a dull ache. Agni looks down and studies my face with a peculiar frown.

I’m growing sick of his games. "Well, go on then. Ask me your questions before someone notices we’re gone,” I demand in irritation.

To my shock, he actually doesn’t argue and instead asks, “When is your birthday? ”

The question is so sudden and unexpected that I laugh in disbelief, to which Agni blinks in clear annoyance. “My birthday? You’re serious? You’re wasting a question on that?” I laugh again, holding onto my still-aching palm in surprise.

“Just answer it,” he orders, obviously displeased by my mocking.

“It’s today,” I blurt, followed by, “why in the depths would you want to know that?”

“Because no one else does,” Agni answers smoothly, dangerous amusement returning to his eyes. I bite my cheek to stop my runaway mouth.

He is correct, technically.

The Sons and Daughters were able to tell me a few trivial things that their 'true sight’ lent them the night of my own Sál Moon. Two of those things being my birthday and physical age. They couldn't see anything I would consider actually useful, however, such as my name.

Days of birth are meaningless within The Order.

There is no celebration or acknowledgment like the stories I hear told of the landmasses.

I’d honestly expect a beating for even mentioning it to our ever-cheerful Grand Preceptor.

The only person whose day of birth I actually know is Kleio’s and that is something only my second would feel the need to make known.

She has, of course, asked for mine, and I simply told her I didn’t remember. But I’m not about to reveal any of that to the male before me. Clearly, he already knows more than I'd thought, and I wonder, not for the first time, which of his crew members is his prime informant.

"Well, I have to admit I was expecting better inquiries than that,” I goad, unable to hold my tongue or temper when it comes to Agni.

“All of this just for you to question my day of birth—what would you like me to tell you next? My height? Favorite color? How about my hopes and dreams?” My lashes flutter mockingly.

Agni tilts his head to the translucent ceiling above and the sky beyond for a beat before exhaling deeply and looking back down at me. I watch his expression turn fiendish as a new idea alights his amber eyes. It makes that golden scar look all the more wicked .

I’m promptly made to regret my taunting when Agni re-plants both hands on either side of my head, once again imprisoning me between him and the furniture-based wall. He leans in closer than before and dips his head dangerously lower.

I freeze at the unexpected movement.

The room grows warm with his nearness and the savage drum beat inside of me picks up speed as I stifle the urge to squirm.

He brushes my throat lightly with his nose and I jerk away as best I can while in my current position.

“What exactly—is your game here—Agni?” I demand, hoping my sudden breathlessness doesn’t hint at the mortifying fluttering feelings being erected traitorously near my core.

I can do little more than stand there as he continues on, completely ignoring my breathless inquiry. His nose comes to barely graze the outside edge of my ear before trailing softly over my jaw and down the side of my throat. My heart beats louder and faster with every descending inch.

I am acutely aware of the energy rippling off of him and the power he possesses. The element that has my own personal form of torment all these years. Just because the burns and brands along my body are invisible doesn’t mean I don’t still feel each and every one.

He chuckles darkly, his lips hovering over a noticeable pulsing spot located at the hollow of my neck. It looks as though my heart is attempting to hammer its way outside of my person.

“Are you afraid of me, Boreas?” Agni asks, with a smug half-smile.

His second question, accompanied by the rough smokiness of his voice, skitters across my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

My mouth instinctively forms the defiant word 'no,’ but his amber eyes are before mine in a flash.

They glitter with challenge, daring me to lie to him and see the consequences.

“Yes,” I admit, swallowing quickly before wetting my lips.

While tracking the absent motion, a sort of frenzied light enters his eyes.

The thrumming inside of me is becoming uncomfortable as the scent of spice invades my senses.

A feeling reminding me of hunger pains grows keen and I take a deep breath in an effort to calm myself.

My chest presses against him when inhaling and his gaze darkens in response to the contact before frowning.

“ Quod suus 'fraudando ,” Agni mutters, shaking his head before giving me a quick once-over.

He sets his jaw and pushes off from the wall of furniture behind me, removing himself from my personal space entirely. My next breath is shaky while he turns around, aiming for the exit and I'm instantly flooded with fresh panic.

“But—that was only two!” I call out, horrified by the thought of him turning me in anyway. I mean, who are the Grand Preceptors going to believe? My money isn’t on the bastard-born castaway.

Agni glances over a broad shoulder with an arrogant smirk. “You didn’t really think I’d use them all up at once , did you?”

The idea sends my stomach plummeting; of course I had.

I’d assumed he’d get out whatever humiliating answers he wanted from whatever terrible questions he had for me and I could just chalk it up to a shit night.

Having to wait, knowing he could spring it on me at any moment, is infinitely worse.

From the way his lips curve, the prick knows it too.

Agni meets the garland veil and turns back to face me as I’m collecting myself against the sofa frame. He holds up three fingers by his head as an obnoxious reminder. “Whenever I decide.”

I cross my arms, glaring at his gloating when people begin cheering from the rooms outside. My gaze darts to the room's translucent ceiling. I know the reason for the commotion lies in the sky.

Sure enough, brilliant blazing lights colored in shades of amethyst, cyan, and jade all weave back and forth across the midnight plain in a divine sort of dance.

Even with the current situation at hand, a smile splits my face from watching the wondrous display.

Every year without fail, I get this inexplicable rush of happiness when watching them .

The Sons and Daughters claim them to be a symbol sent from the spirit world to remind us raiders of the important bridge we hold between the three realms. But for some reason I just can’t explain; they always feel like some sort of inside joke I used to know.

As if they’d been specially crafted for my eyes alone.

Like a secret gift from someone I’ve never met.

After a moment, I glance back at Agni, the display above having made me forget his unpleasant presence altogether. I find him staring at me and the smile still on my lips with an ambivalent sort of expression. One that’s almost painful . It toes the line between bitterness and surprise.

Another blink and it’s gone. A mask forged of iron has slipped securely down into place and I’m sure I must have imagined the ambivalent look to begin with.

Agni’s voice comes out oddly strained when saying in parting, “Happy birthday, Boreas.”

I watch with deeply furrowed brows as his tall figure disappears through the garland veil and returns to the revelry beyond.

Only a minute later does the screaming begin.