The thought had never even crossed his mind. Everyone was capable of violence, but demons were particularly sensitive to sexual coercion. Ruts made things messy and often dangerous, so clans had to be extremely strict about sexual boundaries. Not to mention the fact that they damn near worshipped the very concept of matehood.
He couldn’t say he fit into much of clan life, but those things had made an impression on him. Silas doubted he’d ever be a mate, but he would never stoop to coercing a woman into something she didn’t want.
The thought ofPetra— strong, stunning, powerful Petra — worrying that he might do that to her made that sick, oily feeling return with a vengeance.
He wasn’t sure he really meant it, but he tried to when he added, “You can call this thing between us off, Petra, if you really can’t believe I wouldn’t ask that of you. But if you go into that house with me, then there’s no backing out. This is the line. Once you cross it, you’re never getting rid of me.”
Truthfully, he wasn’t sure there was ever much of a chance of that, but if there was, then she needed to get as far from him as possiblenow.
He couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t chase her down, but he’d let her get a headstart first.
Silas pulled back enough to see her face and was annoyed anew at the sight of a stranger peering back at him. But he knew Petra. He knew his little goddess’s soul, even if he didn’t knowher past. He could make outherin the oddly dark eyes, the expression that tightened those foreign features.
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“You can’t,” he answered simply. “I wouldn’t even trust me.”
He expected her to get angry at that, but she didn’t. Petra seemed to anticipate that answer and, perhaps sensing the honesty in it, only nodded. “No sex unless I say so explicitly, and I need something from you to make this feel equal.” After a thoughtful beat, she demanded, “Give me your name. Yourrealname.”
Gods, she’s magnificent.
People a thousand times more dangerous and powerful than her had killed for the knowledge she demanded so easily. No one had ever come close to figuring it out and he intended to keep it that way. Silas’s clan had nothing to do with what he’d made of his life. They were good people with kids and feelings and shit. He was a monster, but he protected and provided for his clan because they werehis.
Giving Petra his name was like giving her the key to them.
She could use it against him. She could sell it to a hundred different people who wouldn’t hesitate to slaughter everyone in the little town they occupied. She would hold one of the very few precious things he guarded in the palm of her hand.
And, for reasons he didn’t truly understand, he wanted to give it to her.
Silas lifted her right hand to his lips. Pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, he murmured, “My name’s Silas Augustus Cuttcombe. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
Petra let out a short breath. If she was surprised by his concession, she hid it behind an immediate and amusing burst of suspicion. “What do you expect in return for that?”
He didn’t pretend to hesitate. His witch was canny enough to know he’d never give something like that up for free becauseshewouldn’t.
“No more glamours.”
“I can’t walk around the city without being recognized,” she protested.
“You won’t be recognized.” He dug into his back pocket. It was awfully dark for her eyes, but she must have been able to see well enough because the moment he extracted the necklace from his pocket, she made an odd, squeaky sound and slapped her hand against her chest. She groped around, feeling for the chain that hung there.
“Is that my necklace?”
“A replica,” he assured her, without explaining that it was a much nicer necklace than the one she wore every day. Hers was goldplated. His was solid twenty-four karat.
Setting it and its long, delicate chain into her palm, he guided her to run her fingers over the flat side of Glory’s sun symbol. It was the side that would rest against her skin, and it was engraved with a hundred tiny sigils he’d carved with a jewelers drill.
“Wear this instead. I’ve personalized it to you. Every time you activate the glamour, it’ll create a different set of features so you’re even less likely to be recognized.”
Petra’s hand trembled under his. “Why would you do this? I thought you didn’t want me to wear glamours.”
“I don’t want you to wear glamoursIcan’t see through,” he corrected her. “And even though you have impressive skills for an amateur, yours can be wiped away by a careless napkin.”Or a demon’s seeking fingers.“This is much harder to remove.”
There was more to it than that, of course. A simple glamour charm would have done the trick, but he was never one forsimplicity. She didn’t need to know what else he’d packed into the small pendant, though.
Petra tried to force the necklace back into his hand. “I can’t afford this.”
That was true. Unless she had several million dollars squared away, she couldn’t have afforded even half the work he’d put into the necklace. Imbuing objects with magic, even with sigilwork, took finely-honed skill and patience. It was just lucky for her that, after decades of secret research, he was an expert in that sort of thing.
