“Disturbing,” I comment blandly.
“—but while I enjoy watching it unfold for others, I have no idea where to begin for myself. I don’t understand how to make her want me.”
“You can’tmakeher want you. The spark is either there, or it isn’t.”
“The spark?”
“The reaction, the heat that ignites something inside both of you. It’s a kind of magic that can’t be created—it just happens. Circumstances and proximity play a part, but the rest… it’s magic.”
“That makes no sense,” Nocturis replies. “Magic is tangible. You can study it, produce it, encapsulate it—”
“Humans can’t, though. To us, it’s as mysterious as love, so we tend to compare the two.”
“You’re simply too primitive to comprehend how it works.”
“Gods, you’re bad at asking for advice,” I say. “Look, you can’t fabricate the attraction, but you might be able to create scenarios in which this woman is more likely to notice you, want you, or appreciate something about you. What are your best qualities? Obviously your appearance, but beyond that?”
“I have a limited capacity to view the futures of others, specifically the final tasks that riders of the Wild Hunt must complete.”
I give him a confused frown, and he waves his hand impatiently.
“That part isn’t important,” he says. “Lately I’ve been able to glimpse other futures, but the visions are unreliable.”
“What a fantastic way to begin a courtship. ‘Here’s what I have to offer—unreliable visions of the future.’” Nocturis gives me a cold stare, and I can’t help chuckling at his expense. “What other strengths do you have?”
“I’m a leader. I give orders.”
“That’s great. Women love taking orders.”
“They do?”
“Try it and see.”
Nocturis’s frown deepens. “Why do I feel like you’re toying with me?”
“Because I am.”
“I come to you for wisdom, and you mock me?”
“Considering what you put us through, I’m not sure why you felt entitled to my help.”
“That’s what the others said,” he mutters, turning away.
“I’m not the first one you’ve asked?”
“You’re the fifth.”
“Don’t I feel special.”
“You are my last hope. None of those other men seemed willing to help me or capable of telling me what I need to know!” Nocturis’s voice rises, a note of desperation straining his tone.
A cool voice comes from the doorway at the far end of the room. “Have you thought about asking a woman?”
Nocturis and I both turn, and there’s Devilry, clad in scarlet silk and onyx beads. She was in the pleasure district this afternoon, gathering information about our next target, and she looks deliciously slutty in the outfit she chose.
When she reaches up to take a pin out of her hair, I spot four finger-shaped bruises on her arm.
I’m at her side in a second. “Who did this to you?”
