Her skin was softer, making the nightgown a pale substitute, but he liked knowing she wore it to bed. The fact that it smelled like her, all warm and sexy, made it irresistible. The fact that it now smelled like him, too, was a delicious bonus.
Silas chewed on his candy quietly, holding the rest of his body very still and cloaked in deep shadow, as the sounds of her footsteps approached the bedroom door. Petra walked briskly, on the balls of her feet, with long, purposeful strides.
The knob turned. The muscles of Silas’s abdomen flexed with anticipation. Chocolate melted on his tongue just as the door swung open.
His breath caught.
She glows in the dark.
Not a lot. Maybe not enough for the average person to notice. But for a demon whose soul was welded with shadow, the faint luminescence of skin was striking. It was the afterglow of a warm day, the memory of sunshine, and something about it made him want to sink his claws into her and never let that warmth go.
Chapter Eight
Petra flickedthe old fashioned light switch, bathing the room in an artificial glow. Silas scowled. Her shine disappeared in the harsh light.Annoying.
She spotted him immediately, of course, but she didn’t scream. Instead, she froze there in the doorway, her hand hovering above the switch and her wide-eyed gaze locked on him.
He wondered what she made of the sight: a transformed demon, body larger and more monstrous than any other bipedal being, lounging on her bed and eating her food.
Lifting the bag of candy to his lips, he complained, “I liked the lights off.” His voice was deeper, more growl than human speech, but Petra seemed to understand him well enough.
In a measured tone, she replied, “And I’d like you to stop invading my spaces.”
He cracked a candy between his molars. “Nah.”
Petra’s attention dropped to the bag of candy in his hand. A strange ripple crossed her strained expression, a flash of intense emotion that passed too quickly for him to identify. “I see you’ve made yourself at home.”
“In this sad little room? Hardly.” He swept his disapproving gaze around the room, taking in her aged furniture, the lack ofanyluxuries, and the ornament on the wall.
It was a far cry from the luxurious home he’d purchased, and seemed like an odd fit for someone as radiant and powerful as Petra. Shouldn’t a woman who wore a crown at least have nice pillows?
He knew some religious orders, particularly Loft and Burden’s followers, preached various levels of asceticismand deprivation, but Glory’s Temple had never shied away from worldly goods.
“You can’t be here.” Petra snapped the door closed. Though her expression was stony, her willow frame nearly vibrated with tension. “There’s no reason for youtobe here. If someone caught you?—”
Silas offered her a slow grin. “What? Afraid you’ll be judged for having a demon in your room?”
She would be. Oh, she would be. He could already see the headlines that would spawn. The scandal might even be enough to cost Petra her precious position as High Priestess.
Demons weren’t reviled, but they weren’t exactly celebrated, either, when thousands of years of superstition lingered like a cloud around their heads. Even non-religious people were likely to look askance at demons. For those whowerereligious, they were the children of Blight, god of disease and decay.
Over the years, he’d used that reputation to his advantage again and again — as well as all the other handy attributes that came with being more demon than witch. So what if the world was afraid of them? At least in his case, theyshouldbe.
A fully grown demon, mature and in control of his shadows, was nearly indestructible. They lived long, could survive even grievous injuries, and had strong, interconnected clans. In the UTA, they minded their own business, but on the Europeancontinent, whole swaths of territory were held by fierce, shadowed hands.
Silas didn’t have any grand ambitions on that score, and he wasn’t particularly sentimental, but he did have pride.
And that pride was delighted to think that many people would shudder with horror at the idea of Glory’s High Priestess, a witch blessed with power over her light, considered the living flesh of the goddess, beingdebasedby his unworthy hands.
He expected Petra to scoff at the idea of sleeping with him, or perhaps confirm what he already knew about how sex between them would be viewed, but she didn’t.
Instead, she asked, “Did you disable the camera?”
The half-full bag of candy crunched in his suddenly tense fist. “’Course. Now, I’d love to know why you’ve beenknowinglyliving with?—”
He didn’t get the chance to finish, because as soon as he’d answered her question, she marched up to the bed, snatched one of the water bottles, and threw it at his head. He dodged it easily, but even if he hadn’t, it would have bounced harmlessly off his shadows.
Petra had an impressive throwing arm, though.
