Page 48 of In Between Death and the Devil

A moment later the image of a glass and a bottle of brown liquid popped into my head.

“Is that alcohol?” I asked. The bottle reminded me of the whiskey my father had liked.

“Something like it. I thought we could both use a stiff drink.” The Devil’s smile was sheepish.

A laugh bubbled out of me. “The first time we communicate like this, and that’s what you choose?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else.” He shrugged. The image disappeared, and the room in my mind remained blessedly empty.

Relief made me almost dizzy. “So what do we do next?” I asked.

“I’ll continue training you to gain control of your powers, and we’ll work on strengthening our Death Chord.”

“By learning to trust each other,” I said, unable to conceal my doubt. Having access to his emotions had given me more insight, but it didn’t make me trust him. For all I knew, he was using that part of our bond to manipulate me.

“Yes.” His amusement made me scowl.

“How does that work?”

“There are different levels of trust—mind, body, and heart. In the first level, mind, we’ll learn to understand each other through what we share, spending time together. The next level, body, is a deeper level of understanding and trust.”

I had a sudden memory of the way his body had felt pressed against mine that first night on the balcony of this very room. The way his kisses had set me on fire. And then the memory shifted. I saw us lying on soft sheets, naked and entwined. Something clenched low in my belly.

Fen’s dark chuckle startled me. “While that’s a way to build trust on the body level, it isn’t the only way.”

Heat doused my cheeks in mortification when I realized I’d sent him the image through our bond. “That’s not—I’m not⁠—”

“Don’t worry. I would never make you do something you don’t want to. I prefer my bed partners to be willing.” Something dark and wicked pulsed through our bond, as if he was imagining what might happen if I was.

“Right. Good. We’re supposed to be building trust, so doing something we don’t want to do would not be conducive to that.” What in the realms was I saying? It was like my mouth had slipped the leash.

His smirk made my cheeks burn.

I cleared my throat, hating that he’d flustered me. “And heart?”

“That comes with time.” He said it like that explained everything.

“Does the heart level of trust mean romance?” Did I have to fall in love with him? Something in my stomach swooped at the thought.

“No. There have been plenty of platonic bonds between Deaths and Devils over the centuries. The last pair was platonic.”

My forehead crinkled as I tried to picture the current Death with a Devil, but I couldn’t. She seemed so untouchable, even with what I’d seen between her and Talia. “Is that why she was able to shred his soul?”

“No.” Fen’s answer was immediate and emphatic. “They loved each other deeply, even though they weren’t romantically involved. Anyone who was around them could tell.”

I bit my lip and nodded, though I didn’t see how that could be true when she’d shredded his soul.

“Platonic bonds can be as strong as romantic ones, Maeve. And not all romantic bonds include sex.” His feelings in our bond were complex enough that I couldn’t parse them—resignation, maybe with a tinge of sadness.

Relief filtered through me. It didn’t matter how he felt about it. A romantic bond was out of the question. Figuring out what I could trust him on was going to be hard enough. I needed a clear head. My judgment was terrible when it came to love and the Devil was the ultimate tempter. I couldn’t handle another Colt situation.

I shoved aside the twinge of disappointment that flared at the thought before it could blossom and nodded.

“Meet me here tomorrow night,” he said, turning to leave. “We’ll continue your training.”

“Wait.” Something had been niggling at me. “When we were establishing the Death Chord, I was in a meadow filled with irises under a darkened sky for a moment. What was that?”

“My mind. The antechamber I built for you.”