No!She tried to struggle, to fight like a fox caught in a snare, but it was no use. The shadows were everywhere. They were gentle, gentler than she remembered Silas’s ever being before, but they didn’t give her an inch.
The musty smell of the closet, the texture of her coat pressed against her cheek, the way the darkness seemed to bepetting her hair—Petra wanted to throw back her head and howl in outrage.
Sheknewit’d been too easy. Sheknewhe’d been too accommodating.
Something had seemed off about his easy acceptance of her plan to have dinner with Antonin, but she’d ignored it because there was no other choice. Now she saw how stupid that was.
She’d underestimated Silas.Again.
Gods knew what he planned now that she was stowed away like old camping equipment. A garbled sound of pure outrage escaped her throat.I’m going to fucking kill him!
But that could only happen if she found a way to escape. Most likely he’d come back for her, but she didn’t have time to hope for that. She needed to get out of the closet, climb one hundred and fifty stairs, distract Antonin, andthenmurder Silas with her bare hands.
Fury was a roaring fire in her chest. Her breaths quickened, her lungs like twin bellows fanning the flames.
“I have my own plan,”he’d said.
Petra bared her teeth against the shadows covering her mouth. Her skin burned hot, her magic bubbling up to the surface like an upswell of magma. The shadows around her stilled, then began to move in earnest, pressing down on her as if they could stop the white-hot glow of magic from bursting from her pores.
They couldn’t.
Shadows can’t hold me, motherfucker. Not unless I let them.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Petra madeit to the belltower with less than a minute to spare.
Her feet screamed in her heels and her lungs burned from exertion, but she plastered on a smile for the two guards standing at the utilitarian door that blocked the final short flight of steps.
They gave her nothing in return — just that ever-present blank stare that made her stomach turn. Something was wrong with the members of the Ardeo. Not that they’d ever been a particularly saintly group, but the way these men looked…
Petra shook herself.There’s no time to speculate.
That would be Elise’s job, or whoever it was who took on the monumental task of unraveling what exactly was going on within the heart of Glory’s Temple.
The guards let her pass with twin, crisp nods. One of the men opened the door for her. It swung inward with a groan, its hinges creaking and a little rusted by the cool, wet air that drifted down the staircase every day.
Petra sucked in a deep breath of night air and willed her magic to settle. It still boiled under her skin, unsatisfied with the way the shadows had recoiled from it, fleeing to wherever it wasshadows went. She wasn’t one for wanton destruction, but when roused, her magic craved an outlet.
Her temper did, too.
Settle,she urged herself again as she curled her fingers around the cold metal railing. Each step she took made the balls of her feet howl in pain, but she forced herself to walk steadily, to appear poised as she climbed the stairs and emerged onto the enclosed roof of the tower.
She wasn’t lying when she said that the belltower had the best view. Standing two hundred and fifty feet above the ground and atop a hill, it allowed her to look out at the sprawl of San Francisco glittering in the night. To the northeast, Solbourne Tower was a distant, glowing shape on Treasure Island, lit to show its majesty and protected by sigils carved into the very face of the building itself.
During the summer solstice and after the grand public celebrations, Petra and her staff liked to gather there to watch the sunset. They feasted on sweets, drank too much, and danced to music. It was the one day a year she’d been able to truly feel at ease with them, but she’d miss it this time around.
Because the person waiting for her by the sumptuously dressed table was not a member of her staff. The solstice was weeks away. The air was chilly and there were no cakes, no too-sweet alcoholic beverages.
“Petra.” Antonin stepped away from the table to help her ascend the final step. His hands were hot on her arm and the dip of her waist. Again, she cursed Silas. In her desperation to get free and not be late, she’d left her coat behind. That meant Antonin touched her bare skin when he took her elbow in hand.
“Thank you,” she murmured, casting him a close-lipped smile.
The belltower wasn’t huge, so thankfully he didn’t have to touch her for too long as he guided her to their table. Antoningamely pulled her chair out for her. As much as she didn’t want to have the man at her back, Petra forced herself into the seat.
He didn’t step back right away. Instead, he covered her shoulders, bare save for the thin straps of her dress, with his hot palms and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “You look divine, my dear.”
His breath brushed her skin. His scent, all expensive cologne and somethingoffshe couldn’t place, wrapped around her. Petra swallowed hard. It took an enormous amount of self control to not shy away or gag reflexively.
