Wynter sought out leaders of several species—minus those who’d refused to employ her or her crew—and offered them free samples of potions that would appeal to them, telling them all about the upcoming one-stop shop. Each interaction went pretty well, since the leaders all tried the samples and were impressed by the effects.
The box of vials empty, she headed back home. She was approaching the corner of her street when she noticed Maxim.
Spotting her, he altered his course and made a beeline for her. “Priestess.”
“Wynter is fine. How are you, Maxim?”
“I’m well, thank you. Cain would like to see you.”
Being sent for like this couldn’t be good. But even as her stomach sank, her hormones perversely fanned themselves.
“Follow me,” Maxim added. “I’ll escort you to him.”
Trying not to feel like she was walking the damn plank, she trailed after him as he led her through the bailey and toward the Keep. Curiosity dimmed her nervousness. She’d wondered just what it would be like inside. Wondered what sort of home would appeal to someone like Cain.
Passing two guards, she and Maxim strode through the thick wooden doors. As they walked through the arched halls of the castle, she saw that it was a fusion of both the old and the new. She wouldn’t have thought the two styles would go well together, but it somehow worked.
Even with the modern amenities and state-of-the-art features, the place still had an Old World feel with the carved columns, ornamental arches, beautiful flooring, and the domed, frescoed ceilings. The Keep also boasted an impressive collection of paintings, sculptures, ceramics, and other artwork.
Maxim led her outside, across a courtyard, and through tall iron gates that made her think of a cemetery. “Stay on the path. It’s important.”
“Okay.” She trailed behind him once more, and then they were in a garden that was like no garden she’deverseen before. It was gothic and brooding.
Flowers were everywhere in shades of black, scarlet red, and burgundy, including Black Dahlia and Bleeding Heart Dicentra. There were also some night-blooming plants that she knew would glow and give off intoxicating scents after dark.
She recognized some ancient herbs that were often used in forbidden magick spells. There were also lots of vines on the wall ruins that were scattered around. It wasn’t until one of the vines moved that she realized not allwerevines. Some were snakes.
Choosing to ignore that little nugget, she continued admiring her surroundings as she wandered down the twisted path. She particularly liked the moss-covered urns and gargoyles that bordered a bog-like pond. A complicated rockery caught her eye, and she realized that all the rocks were actually skull-shaped.
Finally, she and Maxim reached a little nook. Seated on a wrought-iron bench, Cain locked his dark eyes on her. Her insides again did that twisting thing, and warmth bloomed low. The damn immortal stirred up everything feminine inside her.
It wasn’t only his looks that did it for her. She was self-aware enough to know that what really rung her bell was that Cain wore power.Embodiedit. It was in the depths of his eyes, the timbre of his voice, every single sensual move he made. And, well, she’d always had a weakness for dangerous men. It would no doubt one day be her downfall.
Her inner monster eyed him but didn’t move. Not quite hiding from him, but wanting to watch him without being sensed … like a tiger might observe its prey from the underbrush.
“The Bloodrose Priestess, as you requested,” said Maxim.
She felt her eyelid twitch. “Really, Wynter is fine.”
Cain nodded at him. “Thank you, Maxim.”
The aide left the way he’d come, and then she and the Ancient were alone. Apart from the many serpents nearby, that was.
“This place is amazing,” she said.
Cain tilted his head. “Most don’t use the word ‘amazing’ when they describe my garden.”
“Then they’re not really seeing it.” They were probably too distracted by the obvious danger, because many of the snakes here were highly venomous.
He hummed. “How are you liking Devil’s Cradle so far?”
“It has exceeded my expectations.”
He stared at her intently and … Gah, she didn’t like it. Nor did she like the way her skin heated or her hormones were playing fucking hopscotch. Not much rattled Wynter, but this chemistry spooked the shit out of her. It made her feel vulnerable and off-balance.
He sort of … uncurled as he stood, sensuous as the snakes surrounding him, and prowled toward her. She cursed her pulse for quickening, for responding to all that latent strength and contained power. She felt both threatened and turned on at the same time. So much sexual tension thickened the air she was surprised it didn’t hurt to breathe it in.
His nostrils flared as he stood before her. “I like the smell of your magick. Jasmine and black pepper. It hums with chaos. So much potential for destruction.” His gaze flitted over her face, broody and far too perceptive. “You like the taste of all that darkness, don’t you?”