Page 74 of Touched By Death

Alaric stares at the cigarette that’s almost down to the filter. Smoke leaks from his lips in a sensual, swirling dance. “Far away so that Lucifer won’t be able to track her.”

“What if Aurelia fails to step out from the shadows?”

“She won’t,” Dmitriy speaks up, still staring at the flames in the fireplace with a contemplative look on his face.

My eyes sweep over the defined line of his jaw, his straight nose, and the thin line of his lips. His T-shirt has ridden up his back and, as a result, pools low enough at the front for me to catch a glimpse of his tanned chest. “What makes you so sure?”

He cuts his eyes to me, causing blood to rush south when the weight of his gaze lands on my face. “I’ve seen firsthand how strong she is.”

Reaching forward to crush his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, Alaric snorts with disgust.

Dariana watches our exchange like she can sense a shift in the air.

“Strong, huh?” I hold his gaze. “Care to elaborate?”

An indulging smile dances across his mouth, and the flame he conjures at his fingertips slides across his knuckles—a seductive showcase of his powers if I ever saw one.

As I look over at Dariana, I’m met with a winged brow and a question in her gaze, which I choose to ignore. Pinning my eyes back on Dmitriy, I place the cigarette back between my lips and mumble around the filter, “Tell me about her powers.”

He watches me take a deep drag before clearing his throat and breaking eye contact. “My father’s methods may have been questionable, but Aurelia was determined right from the start to grow her powers. Indulging in the darkness allowed her to do that.”

“But she’s lost to the shadows now,” I point out, flicking ash on the floor.

Watching me silently, he responds, “She is. But if she’d never engaged with her own darkness, she’d never stand a chance at breaking free once Daemon finds her. Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?” Alaric asks, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees. “What are you not saying?”

“Well.” Dmitriy slides his finger across the armrest, back and forth. “If Daemon finds her, he’ll show her she still has something worth fighting for.”

“So?”

“So…” Sitting forward, he stares Alaric in the eyes. “The light will always defeat the dark.”

I choke on cigarette smoke. After hauling myself up into a sitting position, I bang my chest with my fist. “The light? What are you talking about?”

His dark gaze slides back in my direction. “My father once admitted to me that the light clings to him like a persistent dew drop he can’t shake. That drop,” he emphasizes, “is what will ultimately chase away the shadows. Why? Because she possesses far more power inside that single drop of light than any flame of Hell. Goodness drives away darkness.”

Dariana blinks, then looks at Alaric and me as if we hold the answers. Turning back to Dmitriy, she says, “Are you saying she still has the Light inside of her?”

“Of course she does. It’s the essence of her flame. While Genesis arose from the ashes of Death, Aurelia was born of the Light. She battles the eternal war inside of herself.”

Thick and heavy silence falls on the room.

Relaxing back into the armchair, he rubs his finger over the armrest again. Back and forth, back and forth. A twisted lullaby that sings to each of us as we watch the movement.

“When Aurelia realizes that you all love her, that Light inside her will force the shadows back.”

“Philosophical bullshit,” Alaric grumbles.

Dariana shoots him a glare, then shoves him over with a hard push. “I think it’s romantic.”

He shoves her right back, causing her to tumble off the couch. She pops back up, grabs a handful of his hair, and pulls him down.

Tossing a fireball into the air and catching it, I mull over his words while Dariana jumps to her feet and sets fire to his pants.

Flying to his feet, he spits out a curse but then grows silent. I look up from where the flame webs between my fingers, and I pause.

“Why am I not running around like a squealing pig?” Alaric asks, though he knows the answer.

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