Page 13 of Touched By Death

“Is that so bad?”

“Yes,” he breathes out, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me into his embrace in a rare show of affection. “Lucifer can’t kill his own son, but he can kill us to keep Daemon in line.” His embrace tightens around me, and he places a soft kiss on the top of my head. “This is what Daemon would want. He’d want us to keep an eye on her.”

Aurelia…

The girl in question has not spared us a glance since that night, refusing to acknowledge our presence. Never once did I think I’d be this bothered by her disappearance act. All along, I’d convinced myself that she worked for Amenadiel. But she has hardly left Dmitriy’s side since that night. Almost as if she’s using him as a shield.

Every time I spot them together, my teeth gnash, and something dark unfurls inside me. I know Dmitriy is up to no good. I just can’t figure out his angle. And now that we know how powerful Aurelia is behind her sad smile…

“It’s not good enough,” I murmur, breaking our connection as I set off walking.

Alaric exits the girls’ bathroom and falls into step with us. “Dmitriy hasn’t spilled any of his secrets to Cosima.”

“Why would he?” My voice drips with bitterness. I hate that we’re clutching at straws.

“Because,” Alaric starts, flashing fang as his lips kick up in a smile, “they fuck on the regular. If he spills his secrets to anyone, it’s her.”

“And why would she reveal his secrets to one of Dmitriy’s rivals?” I ask with an eye roll.

Ronan slides his eyes to me as we turn the corner. “Like everyone else here, she wants a shot at the empty seat on the throne.”

“Oh, come on. That’s a long shot. Everyone knows Daemon is marrying me when the time is right.” The words taste foul on my tongue.

“The other girls still have hope.”

We enter the classroom and find seats at the back. Aurelia sits one row ahead, staring out at the darkness outside the tall windows, with a vacant look in her eyes. The left shoulder strap has slipped down her shoulder to reveal her smooth skin. As I watch, she slides her wavy hair to one side and picks up her pen. Then she drops it again as if she can’t make up her mind.

Meanwhile, my gaze stays transfixed on the exposed curve of her long neck. Why won’t she look at us? Not even so much as cut us an angry glare? Something. Anything to make us notice her.

“You’re staring,” Alaric points out, ruffling the front of his hair.

My throat jumps, and I shake myself off whatever trance clings to me like a morning mist. “I just hate that Daemon is suffering because of her.”

“He’s not suffering because of her. It’s not her fault that Lucifer is a psychopath.”

Unimpressed, I snort. “We wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t thrown that football at his head.”

Their chuckles draw my attention away from the angel. Elbow kicked up on the back of his chair, Ronan balances on the back legs. “That was an epic throw.”

Alaric hides his answering smile behind his fist as he scratches the corner of his mouth with his thumb. He drops his hand to the table and smooths his finger over a groove in the desk, all traces of humor gone. “There’s still a stalker out there. I don’t care if she hates us or not. We’re not leaving her alone.”

Chapter Five

AURELIA

The days go by so slowly. I’m withering away, vaguely wondering where Daemon is but also relieved that he’s not in class. It’s difficult enough to be around them all the time.

The reek of fear and blood in the cafeteria never gets any easier to handle, but I soon learn to tune it out. I haven’t dared feed on anyone here. Just the thought of luring the darkness inside me to the surface has my heart galloping uncomfortably in my chest. Instead, I force the hunger back down.

I need to find someone willing to let me feed on them. Someone safe.

“Don’t leave me alone in here again,” I say to Dmitriy with my eyes closed and my head resting back against the cold stone walls as his shadow falls over me. I’ve grown used to his woodsy smell these last couple of days.

His dark chuckle pulls a small smile from my own lips, and I open my eyes to look at him. Blood stains his bottom lip, but he makes no move to wipe it clean. Instead, he lowers himself down beside me and kicks his ankle up on his knee. With his arm outstretched behind me, he scans the cafeteria. “You can’t hide behind me forever. They’ll corner you sooner or later.”

“They can always try,” I mutter, clutching my aching stomach.

Dmitriy notices, his brows pulling low. “When was the last time you fed?”

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