I dig my nails into my palm fiercely. It doesn’t matter what little acts of kindness he does. My promise to my father remains. My eyes haven’t left Kane since I noticed him. He meets my gaze stoically, as cold as he always is unless he’s angry. He ducks his head to avoid hitting it on the low-hanging gable over the doorway. In the small space, his shoulder presses up against mine, and I can feel the chill emanating from him.
“I found an inn that I think will be suitable,” he says gruffly, eyes on the street. “Have you noticed anything?”
I shake my head. “I saw some men leave another man in an alley, beaten, but I don’t think it had anything to do with the Nephilim.”
“Beaten?” His brows raise. “And you did nothing?”
“Three against one?” I ask defensively, but guilt pools in my gut. “No one else did anything.”
“I didn’t think you were like anyone else,” he says evenly, but his words are like a knife. “Let’s go.”
Wordlessly, I follow him out of the doorway and onto the street. I follow in his wake, trailing the tall, lithe God. He leads me deeper into the poor quarter, and slowly the streets grow busier – rowdier. My lungs are tight as we slip through the crowd. Women linger on the corners, half-dressed and red-lipped. Men jostle back and forth while men and women hock their wares along the streets. Children dart in between the crowds, fingers glinting with coin they slip from pockets. I tighten my cloak around myself, eyes wide with nerves. I’ve never been anywhere like this before, even with guards.
“Hold on to me,” Kane orders, reaching back with his hand.
I stare at his long fingers, suddenly unsure of myself. Kane sighs impatiently and snatches my hand, holding it tightly. His fingers are cold, but oddly comforting despite the chill. I try to stop my heart from fluttering, but I can’t seem to be able to. For a moment, I relax into his grip and our fingers lace together. Beyond my own contentment and confusion, I feel uncertainty – but it isn’t like mine. Mine is tainted with thoughts of guilt from my true purpose. But this, this feels like someone in denial. I stare at Kane, brows furrowed. He looks thoughtful and focused. A beard is starting to darken his jaw, but it only adds to his allure.
“Watch out,” Kane says sharply, tugging me into his side as a man lumbers past.
I turn, barely avoiding being bowled over by the stranger. “Thanks,” I breathe, hand on my chest.
Kane's arm slips around my shoulders easily, and he glowers at the man. "Bastard," Kane snaps.
He doesn’t release me, using his grip to pull me in and out of his chest to avoid more run-ins. I don’t try to push away from him – I know it won’t do any good. But mostly, I know I don’t want to pull away. I like the feeling of being near him, feeling safe. But it almost makes my body thrum pleasantly. Soon, he turns, taking us towards the largest building on the block. It's made of stone, with new shingles on the roof and small windows. A woman dressed in a loud pink dress and a silk shawl stands outside the door. She winks at Kane as we approach. I stare at her curiously, and she sweeps her hand towards the door, welcoming us.
“What is this place?” I ask quietly.
“It’s called the Diamond,” Kane says. His voice is curt, and I sense he’s hiding something.
“And it’s an inn?”
He holds the door open for me and shrugs. “Among other things.”
I inhale sharply as my eyes adjust to the dimly lit room beyond. It’s warm in here, and dry, for which I’m grateful. But the air stinks of opium and tobacco. A long counter in the back is staffed by three women. Behind it is a cupboard filled with alcohol and spirits. Men linger throughout the room, puffing on cigars and strange, bulbous glass fixtures. I spot women in various doorways, twisting their hips sensually.
“Kane,” I mutter. He pushes me forward, urging me towards the stairs. “This is an establishment.”
“Of course it is,” Kane quips.
“No, an establishment,” I hiss, glaring at him.
His lips twitch as if hiding a smile. “Isn’t it cozy?”
A woman's moan echoes through the room, and I flush, heat sweeping through me. "What are we doing here?"
“The Nephilim won’t expect us to stay in a place like this. If he gets wind that he’s being hunted, this is the last place he’ll look.” Kane casts his eyes over the room. “And he may find his victims here.”
"You doing alright, darling?" A woman purrs, slinking towards us. She eyes me for a moment before turning her gaze on Kane. Her tongue flicks out over her lips, and even I can't help but track it. "You look stressed, I can help you relax."
Kane’s eyes dart towards me before settling on the beautiful woman. He rakes his eyes over her curves, a predatory smile on his lips. I feel a sudden urge to slap it off of him. “What do you propose?”
She smiles, running a hand over her heavy breasts, and I feel a flash of anger. "I think we'd start in a private room with a massage," she says sensually.
Kane doesn’t stop her as she takes his hand and presses it over one of her breasts. I hear a soft growl rumble from his chest before he pulls away. “Maybe another time, darling,” he says, winking. He turns to me, suddenly looking bored. “Our rooms are upstairs.”
I say nothing as I follow him up the steep stairs, lips pinched irritably. My thoughts continuously return to Kane's hand on her breast and the wicked grin he wore. My gut twists with jealousy, and I glower at Kane's back. Kane has never touched me like that, but he would touch a stranger. He's never been so flirtatious. With me, his flirtations always carry
