“Here? In your home?” It seemed scandalous even in light of the situation.
“It is not my home, exactly. I’m only renting it until I am finished here.” He nodded slowly. “But yes. Here. In this house. I realize it is not proper by your standards, but who is to see?” He looked around the room, glancing back at me with a shrug. “There is no one here but you and me, and I don’t plan to tell anyone.”
I looked around the room. “But ... where will I sleep?”
“Under the circumstances, I think it best that we stick together in case Bael reconsiders and comes after you tonight.” He gestures to the sofa in front of the fire. “You sleep here. I’ll take the floor.”
It did not take long to consider the offer. The room was very warm, and it would be a lie to deny that Asher’s presence was reassuring.
“All right,” I said.
His nod was almost imperceptible, but he moved to a trunk against the wall, removing a stack of blankets from its interior to create a makeshift bed on the sofa. A few minutes later, I lay atop it with my head on a musty- smelling pillow, while Asher settled onto the floor next to me.
I told myself he was only protecting me, as was the task of any Assassin.
And besides, I thought, he’s right. It would be foolish to risk my safety in the dark of night when a more practical option is available. I’ll simply take advantage of his protection right now, and then I’ll go after Bael myself, just as I planned.
I made argument after argument in the hallows of my mind. It all made perfect sense. But with Asher’s steady breath so near and my own heart beating like a drum, I knew it for the lie it was. We approached the house cautiously, doubling back several times to ensure that we were not being followed. I heeded Asher’s every instruction, allowing him to take the lead as we made our way to the only home I had ever known.
The home that would no longer be mine.
It was not as I remembered it. After the fire, I avoided it until nightfall when I was forced to find a place to sleep. Shrouded in darkness with a small fire crackling in the grate of the parlor, it had seemed only slightly shabby. I had slept amid layers of blankets piled before the firebox and had forced from mind the soot staining the walls. The smell of smoke that hung in the rooms like a ghost.
But now, in the harsh light of day and with Asher by my side, I was forced to confront the full measure of the destruction wrought by Bael. As we climbed the steps to the front door, I avoided looking into the yawning emptiness of the windows above. I did not wish to remember the things that had happened in the rooms beyond.
I pushed open the massive front door, and we stepped across the threshold into the entry. I did not linger. The terror and loss of the great house seemed to reach out to me from the soot-blackened walls, and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to leave as quickly as possible.
Asher followed me into the parlor, stepping carefully, as if aware that every floorboard, every piece of carpet, held precious memories.
“I’ll just be a minute.” I headed for the valise on the floor, knowing that everything I could salvage would be there where I left it. I had always been prepared for a quick getaway.
“Take your time.” I did not turn to look at him when he said it, but I was surprised by the gentleness in his voice.
It took only a moment to pack my meager belongings. The shawl Father brought back from India for Mother. The ivory comb he’d given me. The brush and mirror set that had been my grandmother’s, and the few items of clothing I had pulled from the wardrobe in my chamber when preparing for the flight I always knew would be necessary.
I closed the valise, marveling that everything I owned could be contained in the small click of its latch. Straightening with the bag in hand, I took a last look around the room.
“Tell me.” Asher’s voice was soft, and when I looked up, I saw that he was leaning against the wall on the far side of the room, his eyes dark and unreadable.
“Tell you what?”
He tipped his head into the room. “Tell me what you see.”
I swallowed with difficulty, shaking my head.
“It will help you remember.”
Licking my lips, I looked around the room, taking it all in for the last time. “I see the piano in the corner where Mother played when I would sing. I was never in key, but she never seemed to mind.”
“Go on,” he said.
I pointed to a chair near the fire. “That was where Father would sit, smoking his pipe while Mother attended to her needle-work. She didn’t like the smell, but it gave him so much pleasure that she rarely complained.”
“And what about you?”
I looked away from the chair, meeting Asher’s penetrating gaze. “What about me?”
“What would you be doing? When your father was smoking and your mother sewing?”
I looked back to the chairs, seeing my parents as clearly as if they were really in front of us. Seeing myself, too. “I would be reading. Something from the library.”
He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as if he could see it all in the moment before he looked back at me. “What else? What else do you see, Rose?”
I was surprised to hear him speak my given name. It was a caress on his lips.
“I see Father and me playing chess. I see him teaching me.”
The silence lengthened between us, and he pushed off from the wall, crossing the room toward me. “Teaching you what?”
I watched the ghost Rose with her father. Saw him point out the obvious moves. And the not so obvious ones.
“Teaching me about chess. About strategy. About life.” My words became softer as I said it. As I began to understand.
Asher nodded, taking a finger and tipping my face up so that he could look into my eyes. “That’s right. And because of that, he is with you. Will always be with you. As will your mother. You’ll carry them with you, Rose. You’ll see.”
For a moment, I was lost in his eyes. In the feel of his fingertips on my skin. The nearness of his body to mine.
Then I got my bearings, nodding and stepping away. “Thank you.” I did not look back as I headed for the door. “Now let’s leave, please.”
Asher threw another log on the fire as I tucked my clothes into the valise, trying not to feel self-conscious. My hair, loose and curling at my shoulders, was no longer bound by my hat. But that was not the worst of it.
The worst of it was that the men’s clothes I wore to track Bael were dirty. The only other outfit I’d managed to salvage from the fire was a gown—hardly proper, or comfortable, sleeping attire. My lack of choices had forced me to don the white cotton nightdress hand-sewn for me by Mother’s seamstress. As unseemly as it was, I was grateful I’d thought to pack it. Otherwise, I might very well be sleeping in nothing but a chemise, with mere feet between Asher and me.
It was odd being in the company of a young man, and with so few clothes, but these were, if nothing else, odd circumstances. There was nothing to be done about it. I tried to banish thoughts of Asher’s nearness and my own bare skin beneath the nightdress by focusing on the task ahead.
“Tomorrow, I must seek Bael and finish what he started.” I rose from my valise.
Asher stood, turning to me. His voice was full of tenderness. “Why don’t you let me handle Bael? It is what I was sent to do, and it is your right as a Descendant to have my protection.”
“Thank you, Asher. I ... Well, I am grateful for your offer. But this is something I must do. Vengeance for the death of my parents is a matter of honor. Surely, you understand that.”
He favored me with a hesitant nod. “But it is no vengeance if their only child is killed in the process. And make no mistake about it, Rose; you almost certainly will be killed. Bael is the worst of the remaining demons. You have seen that which he is capable.”
“Perhaps. But next time I will be ready for him. And I will not allow you to stop me.” Even to myself I
