Page 5

Kleos gasped, and proceed to further ruin the highly comfortable, perfectly logical understanding that we did not interact with each other, because her mouth was moving, which meant she was talking.

To me, specifically. It took me a second to start comprehending the words.

“—however did you get him out of there? I read about hexagon traps. They’re almost impossible to break down fast enough to prevent the curse from doing what it’s designed for, aren’t they? ”

I could tell her about the theory of balance: a strong spell, preserved over time in a location, required a strong physical anchor—an object or, in the case of a five-point trap, objects —where the magic could be stored, waiting to be activated.

It was almost always easier to disturb the item keeping the magic up than to try to handle counter-curses.

I just fucked with one of the five points holding the hexagon up—an urn that was easy to destroy.

Exactly what I’d been describing in my report before she came in. I could say it.

Except that would require speaking to her, while looking into those eerie eyes and being all but assaulted by her light.

I, Lucian Saltzin Regis, son of a sorceress specializing in reading and manipulating minds and a warlock known for bone rituals, grandson of a necromancer, current holder of the title of high sorcerer in the underside, wielder of blood magic, shadow magic, and dark magic, did not do well with light.

Making me deal with light magic was akin to shoving a fictional vampire in sunlight—the Transylvanian kind, not the sparkly version.

Light—even basic, regular sunlight —depleted my power, hurt my skin, and fucking exhausted me.

My family lived in the underside for a reason.

This half-year community sentence in the vale had been physically and mentally taxing.

But coming out at eight in the morning and enduring midday sunlight and light magic all around me should have been nothing to her presence.

The thing about Kleos was she should hurt me. She should burn.

But she didn’t.

She was a puzzle in so many different ways. Why was her clear-as-day light aura, a thousand times worse than Gideon’s, not affecting me at all? Looking directly at her should have been like watching a midday summer eclipse without sunglasses. Excruciating. And it just…wasn’t.

I added this new fact to the long, long list of questions I had about this strange creature. Did she have any human blood? I wouldn’t judge. I didn’t have much of it either. But what was she? And why did she play the sweet, innocent target?

“That’s Lucian for you. The man is a fucking beast,” Gideon gushed.

Was that a compliment?

“You should see him in action someday. Makes me glad he’s walking the straight and narrow because if we ever have to go after him? I’m taking the day off. Hell, I’m taking the whole year off. That’s how long it’d get the guys to nail him.”

I decided it was indeed complimentary, and tried not to look too pleased. Too much time spent with Damian taught me preening wasn’t a good look.

“Well, thank you for saving my cousin. I’m glad he has such a competent partner. Would you like a treat?” Kleos offered, standing, then crossing the tiny office in four steps, her tin in hand. “They’re just cupcakes.”

Except they weren’t just anything.

Decorated with frosting and sprinkles and little spelled sugar butterflies twirling above them, those bite-sized baked goods looked positively divine. As they were clearly imbued with light magic, I was pretty certain they’d taste like acid to me.

But I was salivating. I blamed the aroma, a mix of vanilla and other things, like a summer’s night at the beach or the wind blowing sea air.

Wait, that wasn’t the cupcake at all. It was her scent. Because she stood right there, on the other side of my desk, and I could smell her.

Like her eyes, her scent was salt and sea in summer.

“Go on,” she pressed, holding the tin a little closer.

“Err—Kley, don’t be offended, but Lucian doesn’t do too well with…” Gideon started, then hesitated from the coffee station in our cramped office. “Proximity? And strangers. And general human interactions requiring speech.”

Next time, I was letting him die.

If he had to say anything, he could have told her I was sensitive to light, damn him. He knew that.

Realizing that I would seem like a nutter if I didn’t say something, anything , I made myself lift my eyes to hers. “You’re very kind.”

I took a damn cupcake and stared at it.My fingers didn’t burn on contact, which was promising.And the smell got to my stomach.

“I hope you like it,” Kleos told me, remaining in front of me. “It has a touch of magic, but it’s healing magic—neutral, not light.”

So, she knew that was my hesitation. Gideon must have mentioned my sensitivity at some point, after all.

I took a bite.

Closed my eyes.

Chewed.

Hades help me, I think I’m hard.

Two more bites and the cupcake was obliterated. I eyed the rest of the tin. There were still four inside.

“Healing magic?” I found myself echoing.

It was as close to small talk as I could manage, and I decided it was better than begging for a second treat.

“Well, see, I’m joining the department as an archivist, but anyone in the Guard has to go through basic training. Just in case of an attack, you know. And our mentor is a dragon.”

“The tyrant?” I prompted.

Her eyes widened. “So you were paying attention! Well, she acts like a tyrant, yes, but she’s a literal dragon. It’s Gideon’s mom. She’s a shifter. So her idea of endurance is completely unrealistic and I can’t survive the day without some pain relief.”

I felt like skinning a dragon.

Which was absurd . I knew for a fact it was good to be pushed in training. Anyone working here was at risk of attack—demons, gods, hexed colleagues, random objects lying around all over. Being prepared saved lives. I should have told her to suck it up.

“You should try faebloom. They open up at midnight—that’s when they should be picked. There should be some in the public garden, near the canals. They eliminate aches. You could extract the essence and mix it into the batter, or just make tea.”

“I heard of those! We grow them right in Highvale? I never knew.”

I noticed how animated her eyes seemed, their shifting blues dancing as she smiled.

“There aren’t many above ground,” I told her, mentally making a note to pick some from my garden. “They favor darkness.”

“Like you,” she said. “I’ll look for some. Thanks…hm…Regis?”

She wasn’t sure what to call me. At least she didn’t go for Mr. Regis.

“Lucian,” I said, automatically offering my hand.

I regretted it immediately, but the good breeding instilled in me since birth demanded a proper introduction.

When she reached hers out to me, I looked at it like it might bite.

All right, I could handle looking at her. Her vague proximity was fine, and so were her damn cupcakes. But touch? That was another story.

A dangerous one.

My energy wasn’t drained currently. I avoided physical contact with people unless I knew I was completely under control.

But this is only a quick greeting. You’ve done it a thousand times, even at full power.

Touching people for an extended amount of time could hurt them, but a few seconds was never a problem. Unless I wanted to cause harm.

Ah, damn it to all the hells and back.

I lifted the small, delicate hand, my fingers featherlight against her skin, and brought my lips to the back of her palm like the goddamn elder blood, well-socialized gentleman I was supposed to be.

I half expected discomfort, but nothing could have prepared me from the sudden, electrifying jolt running all over my skin.

What are you?

I looked up from her hand, confused it was still in mine. Her fingers smelled of cupcakes.

Kleos looked as shocked as I was. Hopefully, I didn’t ask out loud.

Get a hold of yourself, Regis. “I’ll exchange a vial of faebloom essence for another cupcake, Valesco.”

There. I sounded like myself, finally.

“Deal!” Without hesitation, she handed me my prize and returned to the safe side of the office.

Before sitting on her cousin’s guest chair, she tossed out, “Oh, if you’re Lucian, I’m Kleos.”

Gideon slid her tea across his desk, and levitated a third cup to me.I ignored it and ate my second cupcake, pretending to pay attention to my paperwork again.

There. We had a full conversation and I survived. Perhaps she’d be less of a mystery to me now. More like a person.

Except those eyes, that smell, that aura, the feel of her skin, those damn cupcakes .

Ugh. I added so many items to an already-long list of questions in minutes.

Half an hour later, she was finally gone, taking the light with her, and I could focus on the report.

“Soooo, drinks?” Gideon asked again, putting his feet up on his desk. “Or shall I call her back?”

“I hate you.”