Page 48 of A Study of Blood and Ichor

Cocky asshole.

I threw the card onto the bed. Pursing my lips, I ran my fingers over the fabric of the dress. If Vain was dragging me into a demon nest, then I was sure there was some part he wanted me to play, and this outfit was only a piece of it. Whatever role he had for me, I hoped my mask of confidence wouldn’t slip amidst a horde of demons.

I had a little more than an hour until Vain would come to collect me, so I reluctantly slipped into the dress, tugging it up so that it hung precariously from my shoulders. The straps were too thin for my liking—one careless slice would have the whole thing fluttering to the floor. Yet, when I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, I couldn’t deny the rest of the dress draped perfectly over my body, accentuating every curve. The heels on the other hand had to be at least three or four inches tall, and my calves screamed at me almost immediately after slipping them on. But just for a few hours tonight, I could endure them. I would have to.

“You’re out of your mind for insisting to go along with him.” Nesera’s voice came from the bedroom. When I looked up, I caught a glimpse of her head poking around the corner in the mirror’s reflection.

“I don’t know, I think it was more reckless to help him escape in the first place.”

Nesera grinned. “Don’t blame yourself,” she said as she strode into the bathroom. “He’s always been a charmer.”

The cambion watched as I fussed with my hair, and casually hopped up onto the counter. “A demon nest isn’t exactly a place that’s friendly to mortals. Even with Vain at your side, it’s dangerous.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “I know how to handle myself.”

She shook her head and chuckled under her breath. “He told me you’re a demonologist. That’s why I can’t understand why you’d make him take you to a damn nest. And I would go for some back up, but Vain’s afraid there’ll be too many demons who will recognize me.”

I tugged my hair down from a high bun that wasn’t sitting the way I wanted it to and looked at her. “Ones that might want you dead?”

“Yeah. More than a few,” Nesera said as she picked at her nails.

“Does that mean Vain is protecting you too?” I dared to ask.

“I may be under his protection, but that doesn’t mean I’m in need of protecting. If anything, they should be more afraid of me than I am of them.”

I didn’t doubt her. The cambion had a calm ruthlessness to her that I admired. She seemed like the type of merciless fighter who could take out more than a handful of demons all on her own and not even break a sweat.

Nesera tilted her head to one side and asked, “What kind of deal did you make with him?”

“How do you know I made a deal?”

She shrugged. “Because I also made one with him. Vain can never pass up a good deal. And I can only bet that a witch like yourself wouldn’t have tagged along with him without one.” A knowing smile crept onto her face, and the corners of her eyes crinkled. “So, what was it?”

I pressed my lips together and exhaled through my nose. “A very stupid deal.”

Nesera gave a small laugh. “I can’t tell if you’re fascinated by demons or terrified of them.”

“I wish I could tell the difference myself.”

“My advice,” she said, “don’t fear them. Because that fear will only affect every decision you make. Feel the fear and own it, preferably before they can break you.” Her fingers traced the scars across her face almost unconsciously before turning her head downward.

I felt tempted to ask Nesera about her deal and the obvious memory that had been dragged up, but I chose to keep those questions to myself and not press her any further.

I used a gold barrette to sweep the small sections that framed my face up while keeping the rest down. With one last look in the mirror, I decided this was the best it was going to get.

“Hold on,” Nesera said and pushed herself off the counter. She went into the hall and returned a few moments later with a handful of palettes, brushes, pots, and tubes of various colors. “Is it cool if I add a few finishing touches? Really make it pop?” Then she added, “Not that yours looks bad. But the humans that are paraded around at these things are always a little more…”

“Sexed up?”

She winced. “For lack of a better term.”

“Do your worst,” I relented, and the cambion quickly got to work.

She stroked products through my brows, blended neutral shadows across my lids to accentuate my eye shape, and drew liner along my lashes, winging it out to my temples. Her final addition was to apply a deep burgundy color to my lips.

I felt as if I were looking at an alternate version of myself. It was remarkable how a little bit of product could wildly transform my face. My eyes had a cat-like appearance to them, and my lips looked fuller than normal, almost as if they were stained with blood.

Nesera smiled at her handiwork, and we walked out to the great room to find Rory waiting there and not Vain, like I’d expected. He was dressed sharply in head-to-toe black. Dark pants hugged his frame, and he had a jacket folded over one shoulder as he adjusted the cuffs of his long-sleeved dress shirt. On his left hand was a black leather glove, which hid the binding mark on his wrist I had given him, and the fingers of his right hand were adorned with an assortment of platinum rings.

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