Page 42 of Soul of Shadow
“ButIsaw it,” she said. “And that was before I ate the eyaerberry.”
“You saw my home,” he said, reaching the bottom of the cut and dropping the dirty wipe to the floor, “because I wanted you to see it.”
“Wait.” The towel slipped from one of her shoulders. “You knew I was following you?”
Elias snorted as he bent down to pick up a roll of bandage. “Of course I knew. You’re about as sneaky as a hippopotamus, Charlotte.”
She reached over, snatched one of the pillows, and whacked him lightly on the side of his head. He laughed, batting it away.
“And you have the temper of one, too.” He shook his head. He was grinning, but it wasn’t one of the sarcastic smiles that he normally wore. It was genuine, filled with mirth, and it made him look younger.Muchyounger, like he was actually an eighteen-year-old boy instead of a dark spirit on an even darkermission. The heat in Charlie’s stomach became a dull ache, the twisting of her insides around each other.
She averted her eyes before the feeling could grow.
Clearing her throat, she said, “I don’t, actually.” Elias had started to wrap her calf in the bandage, and she kept her eyes on it as it spun around and around. “I’m the mildest one in my family. My brother likes to say that I could get mugged on the street and still find a way to apologize to the person who mugged me.”
“Mason clearly doesn’t know you,” Elias said as he reached the bottom of the cut. With nimble fingers, he snipped the end of the bandage and secured it in place.
She looked at him sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Instead of answering, he set her foot gently back onto the floor before rising from the stool. He gestured for Charlie to scoot over on the sofa. She did, gingerly picking up the vätte’s nest and setting it down beside the arm of the sofa. He didn’t stir; the tiny snores coming from inside his towel indicated that he was already fast asleep. Elias sat down on her other side, leaving a good foot of space between them. He leaned against the sofa, letting one arm rest over the back. His warm skin grazed the back of her neck, and she tried not to shiver.
“You aren’t mild,” he said at last. “Quite the opposite. You have a very obvious thirst for adventure.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” said Charlie, looking away. The intensity of his gaze was too much; it felt as if his eyes were burrowing under her skin, peeling away the layers she so carefully laid around herself.
“Don’t forget, Charlotte,” he said. “I can sense fear. I know when you’re experiencing it and when you’re not. And rightnow, you’re sitting next to a night mare. One of the worst dark spirits ever created.” His voice lowered. “But you’re not afraid.”
Her heart picked up speed. Wasn’t she afraid? Wasn’t that why her blood was pounding, the ends of her nerves screaming as if they were on fire? Being around Eliasalwaysmade her feel like that, and she assumed it was because of her terror in knowing what he could do.
“I used to be brave,” she said, hoping to divert the conversation away from these dangerous waters. “But not anymore. Not since…” She trailed off.
“Not since your sister,” Elias filled in for her.
She looked back up at him. His gaze was no longer piercing. It had softened, though it still maintained the sense of searching that was always there when he looked at her.
“Your brother told me,” he said, guessing at the question in her head. “I’m sorry.”
Tightening the towel around her shoulders, she turned to stare at the fire. Embers popped and crackled from the logs as tall flames leapt toward the chimney. Soon, the wood would begin to crumble. Another log would need to be added.
“Her name was Sophie,” she said, surprising herself. She almost never said her dead twin’s name aloud. Not even to Mason or her mom. “We were identical, but our personalities couldn’t have been more different. I was loud and rowdy, always getting into trouble with Lou and dragging Sophie along for the ride. She was… shy. Soft-spoken. But not timid. Most people thought of her as a wallflower, but the truth is, between the two of us, I think she was the braver one.”
“Why do you say that?”
“She never cared what other people thought of her. I know itsounds cheesy, but…” She shook her head. “I don’t know. She was sosureof herself. She knew exactly who she was and what she wanted.”
Elias was watching her closely. She could feel the heat of his gaze. “And you don’t?”
Flames licked the bricks of the chimney. She could still feel the pain of the cut on her leg, but it was dulled now, no longer a sharp sting.
“I don’t know,” she whispered finally. “Maybe I used to. But now…”
Elias said nothing more. He didn’t need to. They sat together in comfortable silence, watching the fire eat away at the wood.
Was his sympathy genuine? Charlie really couldn’t tell. Ever since she discovered his secret, he’d been nothing but cruel and careless toward her—threatening the people she loved, casually debating her own murder. She thought he contained no impulses but anger and violence. But today…
Today had been different. They’d laughed together, fought off dangerous creatures together. He’d shown a side of himself that she didn’t know existed.
She still didn’t trust him. She knew that, at the end of the day, he had forced her into this alliance, and he wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice her life if it served him. This whole “kindness” act was probably just that: a charming play meant to lure her into complacency.
