A Dance with Darkness: An Angelfire Novella (HarperTeen Impulse) (4 page)

I grinned. “Haven’t you seen enough of me?”

His own smile grew dark and sly. “What if there’s a spot I missed?”

I laughed, realizing it was the first time I’d allowed myself to laugh at one of his jokes, and my laughter seemed to make him brighten. It felt good to let down my guard and
be
with him. I was a soldier, and we did not have the opportunity to let down our guards. With Bastian, I felt as though I’d never need to put it back up. “In all seriousness—”

“I’m entirely serious.”

“We seem to keep running into each other,” I said, ignoring him. “I’m sure it will happen again.”

He gave me a sober look. “I meant it when I said you should stay here tonight. It won’t be safe until dawn. And I want you to stay. There’s no need to rush off.”

I sat forward, covering myself with the blanket, and I stared at him in disbelief. A smile toyed in one corner of my mouth. “Do you like me?”

“I do like you,” he said. “I like looking at you. I like the soft manner in which you speak. I like your accent and I like your boldness. I like the way you feel when I kiss you and touch you.” He smiled at the same moment I felt heat in my cheeks. “Do you like me?”

I considered that question and then considered my response. “I certainly should not.”

“That wasn’t a no. Are you too proud to say yes? I’m not.”

I swallowed and forced myself to be fully honest with him. “I’m not too proud to admit anything, but I’m afraid of what it would mean if I did like you.”

“Because of what we are,” he said, at last serious. “And how we are different.”

“Yes,” I replied. “This is very, very much against any and all rules of conduct and engagement in battle.”

“No, I don’t suppose it’s considered prudent to make love to your enemies.”

I bit my lip and smiled down at him. My hair spilled over my shoulders, brushing his skin, and I touched his face. “I will stay until dawn, because you wish it,” I told him. “And because I want to.”

He pulled me down to him and kissed me. Then I lost myself in him for the second time that night, knowing it would not be the last.

I SAW BASTIAN ON AND OFF FOR MORE THAN A FORTnight in secret, and those weeks were a whirlwind. He was my paramour, and our clandestine meetings gave me a heart-pounding thrill that I’d only ever known during battle. I was wholly taken over by him. I needed to be with him always and when I wasn’t, I felt incomplete. It wasn’t enough anymore for me to fight my enemies every night. I needed the thrill of sneaking away to see Bastian. No one could know. I couldn’t even tell Nathaniel about my happiness. I didn’t want to think of his inevitable disappointment in me.

After these weeks of running all over London and never staying in any place more than once, Bastian invited me to his country manor one night. Though it was no Lockmoore Castle, it was a beautiful house far from the noise and filth of the city, built on a hill and surrounded by ancient trees and rolling fields. Past the house were the stables, built of the same tawny brick as the house, and full of horses that had long gone to sleep.

Bastian greeted me at the door with a smile and a kiss, and soon we were tangled in each other’s arms. He gave me a tour of the manor, which was luxurious, but strangely bare as if he didn’t intend to live there long. I saw few keepsakes and possessions besides the furniture, sculpture, and tapestries that were covered in a thin layer of dust. I imagined these things had been here when Bastian moved in.

There was little I found impressive until he showed me to his library, which struck me speechless. All four walls, floor to ceiling, were lined with shelves upon shelves stacked with books. “Are all of these books yours?” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “You may read anything you’d like. Consider them yours as well.”

I walked along the shelves, running my fingers across spines and breathing in the earthy scent of paper and leather, some of it very old. “
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight
… I love the Arthurian tales. You like Dante, I see.
The Divine Comedy
… and …
La Vita Nuova
? That one surprises me.”

“Why is that?”

“Have you read any of it?” I asked, disbelieving.

“The entire book many times over.”

“Which poem is your favorite?”

“
A ciascun’alma presa e gentil core
.”

I stared at him for several long moments, waiting for him to laugh and tell me he was joking, but his expression remained almost defensive. “Why is such a sad sonnet your favorite?”

He looked elsewhere then, gazing blankly at the books shelved behind me. “Because it’s true.”

As I watched Bastian, I thought of the author of those poems, Dante, weeping over Beatrice, the muse and love he lost before he ever even held her. I wondered why this poem would be the one to strike Bastian so. “I never figured you for a romantic. That’s all.”

He took my hand, pulling me toward him, and he slipped his other hand around my cheek tenderly. “I thought you knew me.”

“I’m knowing you better and better each night,” I replied. “Though I should come to expect a new surprise from you every time we meet again.”

I heard a soft knock and a fleeting look of worry passed over his face. The front door opened and footsteps followed. Demonic power crept through the country house, slithering across floors and coiling up the walls and stairs toward us. The hairs on my arms stood up. This was a display of power, an announcement of presence, and I began to grow nervous.

He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Don’t worry, my love.”

I blinked at him. “My love?”

He froze for an instant, as if he’d just realized what he’d said, but he quickly melted into a warm smile. “I’ve added it to my list of names for you.”

I brushed my lips over his smile. “I quite like it. It’s my favorite of all your names for me.”

“Perhaps I should use it the most.”

“I would not object.”

He made a low, guttural sound of frustration and stepped away. “I have to deal with this.”

“Who has come?” I asked.

“My son.”

“Your … ?” Yet another surprise. He didn’t elaborate as he left me in the library to attend to the new arrival, but my curiosity was instant and all-consuming. He had not mentioned a son before now and I wondered why. The likely case was that Bastian didn’t believe I could meet him, seeing that I was angelic and his son was certain to be demonic. It was the same reason I could not introduce Bastian to Nathaniel. Nathaniel would never understand. But as I stood here now, alone and hidden, I realized that I didn’t like this. Perhaps being a paramour was not enough for me anymore. If I loved Bastian, then I wanted to know every part of his life, and that included his family.

I crept from the library, my slippers as silent as possible on the floor, into the hallway leading to the balcony over the reception room. Voices drifted up the staircase and I listened effortlessly. One was Bastian’s and the other was a gentler, clear male voice that also had Bastian’s Germanic accent.

“You weren’t to arrive until tomorrow night,” Bastian said, his tone harder than I’d ever heard him speak.

“Ivar and I had a lead,” his son replied. “We followed it into an angelic ambush.”

“That seems like failure.”

“Not quite. The presence of the angelic obviously meant they were guarding something.”

Both fell quiet as Bastian absorbed this. “Did you retrieve the relic?”

“No,” his son admitted. “One of them grabbed it and ran before we could follow. We did get information out of the reaper we left alive. The book will be passed to a relic guardian—” He paused abruptly. “Is there someone here?”

“I have a guest,” Bastian replied.

I took the opportunity to step out from my hiding place and reveal myself at the balcony above their heads. Bastian snarled a few words in his native tongue, and though I didn’t understand, I could guess by his tone that they were nasty.

His son looked up at me, burning me with fire-opal eyes beneath pale gold hair. His fair features resembled little of Bastian’s and I imagined he took after his mother, whoever she was, but he was just as beautiful as his father. I could also tell by his strength that he was at least two hundred years old. His gaze followed my descent down the staircase. There was more contempt in those fiery eyes than curiosity. I began to doubt revealing myself.

“Who are you?” he asked coldly.

I looked at Bastian for a response. Only he could know what threat his son posed to me, if he was a threat at all. Bastian glowered, but he seemed more irritated than concerned that I’d exposed us.

“This is Madeleine,” he said at last. “Madeleine, this is Cadan. My son.”

“Hello,” I said, hoping to give him a good impression. That seemed unlikely.

Cadan’s gaze on me was relentless. “Might I inquire as to why you are keeping an angelic reaper?”

My breath caught in my throat and Bastian’s eyes widened. If I’d have let my power go, he could’ve sensed my angelic energy, but I’d never once let it slip. He shouldn’t have been able to know what I was, but clearly his senses were quite keen.

“She is my guest,” Bastian repeated. He wouldn’t insult his son’s intelligence by denying anything or claiming that I was his prisoner. It was very obvious that I wasn’t just an acquaintance. Even I could catch my own scent on Bastian, and his was all over me in return.

“Interesting company you keep,” Cadan replied. He was less angry now and more confused. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. “I apologize if I was rude. You surprised me, that’s all.”

“And you surprise me,” I said.

“How so?”

“I didn’t expect you to accept me without major issue, I suppose. I thought you would react differently to knowing what I was.”

He blinked at me, taken aback. “Did you expect me to just attack you? Did you think we were animals?”

“No, of course not,” I said. “I’ve never mistaken the demonic for animals, but you and your father are the only demonic that have never ‘just attacked’ me.”

His contempt began to show again. “Well, you are the only angelic that has ever said hello and not tried to put a sword through my chest.”

“Cadan,” Bastian said in a low, disapproving tone. “There’s no need.”

Cadan studied the both of us for several long moments, seeming unable to decide what to do. “You must forgive me for finding this all very strange.”

“There is one thing I ask of you,” Bastian said, “and you must not fail me in this. Do not breathe a word of her. You understand why and the importance of this. If you do, I will come for you.”

Cadan was not alarmed by Bastian’s threat and gave his father an even look. He did not answer.

“That’s not necessary,” I assured them both. “I have a feeling Cadan can be trusted.”

Surprise overcame his face, but he quickly reined it in. “We’ll discuss matters later, then. Madeleine, it was lovely meeting you.”

He studied my face a few heartbeats more, a million questions stirring in his eyes, but nothing more was said between us. Then he was gone.

BASTIAN WAS AWAY FREQUENTLY, AND IT WAS MY greatest test not to search his house for something that might reveal the secret behind the mysterious dagger and book that his kind hunted. I should have ransacked the place the first time he left me alone here, but I couldn’t do it. To forsake his trust would be to forsake my honor. And I loved him. I did not have it in me to betray him. I would uncover the identity of the dagger and book with my honor intact.