“To my interrogation room. I find people are more willing to speak with me down here,” I say with a wicked grin.
“Interrogation?” She echoes me softly.
“You think such a thing is best left to the city guard and not the King?” I nod understandingly. “I would agree, except in this case.”
“What is it about this case?” Briar asks, following me into the large interrogation room. Shadows drape along the corners, dark and indiscernible. I feel them call towards me, beckoning me, but when Briar steps to my side, they recede. I frown.
Before I can speak, the door clicks open and Willem leads a golden-skinned man into the room. Briar lurks behind me, her eyes on the floor until Willem leaves, closing the door behind him. I purse my lips at the man, his white hair almost glowing. He smirks arrogantly, sauntering to the small table in the center of the room. He throws himself down in the chair without bothering with any obeisance.
“So, you must be the infamous Kane,” the Nephilim says with ease. His red eyes rove over Briar hungrily. “Her soul makes me ravenous.”
Briar’s fear, already like a hum in the background, surges until it’s an assault on my senses. I sit, and she follows suit, keeping her face a mask. “Tempest, I trust you have an inkling as to why you’ve been called here.”
“Called is an interesting way to describe mandatory attendance,” Tempest says.
I wave a hand lazily. “Semantics.”
“So, why is it that the illustrious Kane, Death himself, needs to speak to a lowly Nephilim?” Tempest asks, his red eyes flashing.
His anger, though understandable, is unnecessary. Nephilim in my realm are strictly overseen simply because of their raw power. They are the single threat to my people, besides myself if I’m not careful. I cross my arms over my chest, urging the shadows to curl around Tempest. Nephilim are drawn to the light, my shadows sicken them. Tempest shifts uncomfortably, fighting against my will to break him down. But my darkness wins.
“There have been three deaths in the city; victims of soul-leeching.” I watch him carefully for any glimmer of recognition. His eyes go hard. “Would you know anything about that?”
“No,” he says forcefully.
“So, it’s true then,” Briar breathes, her eyes wide and filled with fear—locked on Tempest.
His red eyes turn on her and he grins. “Curious little thing, isn’t she?”
A growl rips from my throat and I ease in front of Briar, hiding her from view. I feel her petite hand against my bicep as she tries to get a better view. “Turn your eyes away.”
“Why bother? Let her see what she’s so curious about,” Tempest says, leaning forward.
“She’s a fool,” I snap. “We’re done here.”
The door swings open at my words and Willem strides in. He waits in the doorway as Tempest rises, tossing one last infuriating smirk at Briar before following Willem out of the room. He pauses and I feel the shadows rise in response to his direct gaze. “I wonder how curious people would be to know a mortal is in this realm?”
The door slams shut behind him and I whirl on Briar. She gasps as I loom over her, baring my teeth. “Do you have any regard for your safety at all?”
“What do you mean?” She asks, a bite to her tone despite the fear I taste.
“You are a fool,” I hiss. “The soul of a living mortal is ten times more powerful than the soul of one of my people. Imagine how tempting you are to one of them. You, alive and with a soul, would become nothing but a shell if you fell victim to a Nephilim. You would be theirs to command, an empty husk. You would be nothing. Never speak in the presence of a Nephilim. Never be alone with one.”
“I didn’t know,” she whispers.
I watch the vein pulsing in her throat, surprised by how much my anger gave way to fear for her. I inhale, taking a long, deep breath. “This is not the Lands of Light. It is not the mortal realm. This is the Underworld. It is filled with dangerous creatures, even Willem and I are not safe for you.”
“I know this.” There’s a flash of darkness in her eyes and I know she’s thinking of last night.
I clear my throat. “Be cautious,” I murmur.
Her tongue flicks out over her lips and I watch the quick movement, enraptured. “I will.”
My hand snakes out and wraps around her throat. I squeeze just tight enough to make her body stiffen and her pulse race. “Look,” I murmur. “You can’t even defend yourself from me.”
“Do I need to?” Her voice is breathy, laced with heat.
My lips hover over hers, desire flooding through me. The shadows push back, curling into the corners and the room blooms with light. Briar's chest rises as she takes a sharp breath; an anticipatory breath. I wonder again just how sweet her lips will be. Time is frozen in a way I've never felt. My blood thrums, urging me closer to her. My lips are a touch from hers and I feel her hot breath waft over my face, intoxicating like a blend of poppies. Suddenly, I hear a scuff against the floor outside and I know Willem has returned with yet another Nephilim.
I pull away quickly and sit. Briar is breathing shallowly beside me, her cheeks flushed. The door swings open and Willem’s sharp blue eyes settle coldly on Briar. I adjust my chair until I’m sitting slightly ahead of her, hiding her body from view as the Nephilim saunters in. She tosses her long, white hair over her shoulder and her red eyes flick over Briar with disinterest. I rope my shadows together and coil them around Briar unnoticeably, just enough to hide her mortality to the Nephilim.
Her heart is racing, though I’m not sure it’s from fear. Kindness, manipulation, I tell myself. But how far will I go
