I lean back in my chair, posture bored. “They can’t be any nicer than all the others I’ve seen,” I mutter.
“Huh?” Calvin says, brow arched.
Harlow too casts a questioning glance, while Bard briefly looks up from his stew.
Inana is the only one who doesn’t look at all confused by what should seem a non sequitur. From her flushed cheeks to her seething glare, I can’t think of any other explanation. She heard him. While anyone can see my shadows—mostly invisible during the day aside from the pools of darkness they cast—no one but me should be able to hear their voices.
She sets down her half-eaten roll and mirrors my posture, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms. However, instead of crossing them over her chest, she folds them…beneath it. Lifting certain assets until distinct swells rise above her bodice. Bloody hell.
“Are you going to eat or are you going to keep staring at my fucking tits, pervert?”
My first instinct is to say something cold and dismissive. Then I recall how well that went for me on the roof. She’ll only argue or bait me to argue back. The only times I’ve left her at a loss for words are when I’m unintentionally flirting with her. Pushing her boundaries. Normally I try my best to resist the pull to do so, but what if I give in for my own benefit? Not so much that I almost kiss her again. No, that was a different kind of giving in. That was more letting my guard down. Allowing her to get too close. This time I’ll give in just enough to startle her. Embarrass her. Make her want to shut that tempting mouth and keep her eyes from straying to mine.
I lean forward, lips lifted at one corner as my gaze sweeps from her face to her chest. “Why should I have to choose? I can eat and look at the same time. Might as well make a fucking feast of it, right, sinner?” Still looking at her chest, I spear a piece of venison with my fork and bring it to my lips, emitting a sound of deep satisfaction as I chew.
As intended, by the time my attention returns to her face, her mouth is pursed tight, her cheeks blazing.
Victory floods me in a dizzying rush. Is that really all I have to do?
“Oh, my gods,” Harlow says, her voice strangled with laughter. She looks from me to Inana, covering her mouth. And that’s when I remember we have a bloody audience. “Have the two of you still not fucked?”
“No,” Inana says, but her tone sounds more like she’s scolding an unruly puppy than answering the question. “It’s not like that. There’s nothing between us.”
“Sure about that?” I say before I can think better of it. Now that I’ve let myself give in, I can’t stop. My blood thrums in a sensation that is both strange and familiar. In this moment, I am the man I was six years ago, before my emotions were stripped along with half my sins. It shouldn’t be possible. There’s only one way a Sinless or halfsoul can experience a reversal in Absolution—one of the deepest, darkest secrets I keep—and this isn’t it.
And yet…
Gods above, it feels fucking good.
“I’m sure,” she says through her teeth.
I’m about to quip back about lying to my shadows, but an uncomfortable sensation skitters up the base of my spine. “Not the ass, Cal. You know it’s weird.”
That, of course, has my three Summoners going still.
“Excuse me?” Harlow’s amusement grows tenfold. “What were you doing to his ass, Calvin?”
Calvin lifts his hands, an innocent grin on his face. “I was just petting Sloth. He likes butt scratches.”
“Yes, well, I don’t. Not from you.” I take a deep swallow of ale, as if that will wash the sensation down.
The screech of chair legs against flagstones nearly has me spitting my drink. Because it’s Inana who rises to her feet. The daggers she shoots with her eyes make me realize my mistake.
“Are you suggesting,” she says, voice quavering in her efforts to speak low, “you can feel when we touch your Shades?”
I lean back in my chair again, blowing out a heavy breath. “I can feel what they feel, to a degree,” I say. “Now will you sit down before the barkeep tells us to get the fuck out?”
She glances around the dining room. Sure enough, several pairs of eyes look our way. Public acts of anger or frivolity are frowned upon, for no one wants to be accused of doing anything that might attract a Shade, even during daylight hours.
With a feigned smile for the onlookers, she settles back into her chair and leans toward the table. “Why haven’t you mentioned that? And how is it possible? Are they…tethered to you? Is that how they can move about during the day, while regular Shades can’t set foot outside of shadows?”
“They are partially tethered to me,” I say, “and I didn’t mention it…”
I haven’t a clue how to finish that sentence. I should have mentioned it, but I didn’t because…
Well, because I liked when she began to warm up to Sloth. Liked the way her hands felt when she petted his coat. I almost liked it too much on the roof, when she scratched him just beneath his ears.
“He didn’t mention it because it’s weird as fuck,” Calvin says, coming to my rescue. “Long story short, don’t give Lust a handjob.”
