Page 13 of The Demon's Discovery
Iblinked several times, trying to orient myself. There was a soft woven blanket covering my body, and a pillow under my cheek that smelled faintly of lavender.
As I sat up, I tried to stretch a bit, my muscles stiff from the way I’d slumped to one side.
I heard the quiet rasp of a book’s page being turned, and mortification set all the way in as I realized I’d fallen asleep in the middle of my visit. Choking on my own breath, I drew the attention of the man sitting nearby.
“I hope you don’t mind. I took a few liberties to ensure your comfort.”
“Thank you,” I managed, heart pounding frantically behind my ribs. How long had I napped? What did he think of me for having done so? I sat frozen for several seconds, trying to decide what the appropriate next step might be. My visit had turned into a giant mess.
Vassago appeared completely unbothered by what had happened. He looked relaxed in one of the broad leather armchairs across from the sofa, a stout volume of fiction between his hands. The soft leather cover was well worn aroundthe edges, a favorite perhaps. And he was either wholly absorbed in the story or excellent at pretending.
“Did you rest well?” he asked finally, using a narrow silver ribbon as a page marker.
“I think so, yes. I didn’t mean to?—”
He set the book aside on a small round table, waving a hand in dismissal of my apology as he stood. “Please don’t concern yourself. I rather enjoyed having a quiet moment to read.” His gentle smile betrayed no hint of sarcasm. “You were asleep for about an hour. If you need more time, I’m happy to arrange one of the apartments for you?”
I sat up, shaking off the lingering drowsiness. “No, no. I’m fine, thank you.” I napped at least once a day, my body simply required it, but I might never get over this beautiful man having brought me a pillow and blanket while I dozed on the sofa in his classroom. My heart had finally settled down, though it currently resided in my stomach.
He calmly poured tea for us both, the pot somehow still steaming. “If you’re still up for a demonstration, I put together some things. If not, I’d be happy to have you back another time for that. I’m in no rush.”
“I’d like to show you what I can while I’m here,” I insisted, feeling like it was the least I could do.
“I didn’t know exactly what you’d need, I just grabbed what I could find lying about.”
“May I?” I asked, finding that trying to look over his shoulder at the table across the room was mostly useless.
“Please,” he nodded. Standing, he offered me a hand to help me up.
Something passed between us where we touched, a sharp current that had me looking up into his eyes. They were soft still but widened just enough that I suspected he could feel it as well. He let go slower than I’d expected.
At the table, he shadowed behind me as I examined what supplies he’d provided. “There’s no test,” he reassured me. “And I’m no scientist. Is there something here that could be of use for you to demonstrate something… entertaining perhaps?”
I smiled. I had everything I needed to put together some of my favorite tricks. I might not be the most skilled or talented, but I could entertain with a flame, a bit of washing powder, and some salt.
“Could I have a candle, please?”
Vassago gave the slightest of grins and stepped away. I noticed as he glided around the room that he moved like a cat. He was graceful and stealthy without any effort at all, his white hair so glossy it shined in the light when he moved.
He retrieved a lit taper from a silver holder on the table where the food had been served and brought it to me. After a beat, he turned to get something from a shelf. When he spun back, he had two pairs of round-lensed spectacles in his hand. He put one pair on and gave the other to me.
“Thank you. May I use this dish?” I held up a small shallow metal bowl once the glasses were securely over my eyes.
“Anything here is open to your use, Greta.” His voice was dark, with an undercurrent of invitation I couldn’t help but clench my thighs against. It was beyond shocking.
Blushing under his watchful gaze, I focused on pouring one of the powdered salts into the dish and then some of the clear, potent alcohol he’d left in a squatty jar. Using the taper, I lit the mixture. The alcohol ignited in a rush of orange that quickly turned blue.
“Ah! Yes. I remember seeing this with some of the monks I stayed with once. They did take it quite a bit further, however, and added gunpowder among other things. They made giant paper tubes that, once ignited, exploded into bright colors in the night sky.”
I marveled at the thought. “I’d love to try that.”
“You should, it was marvelous. Though, perhaps not in here.”
I opened my mouth to explain that I would certainly not be experimenting with explosives inside the collegium, but the grin on his lips betrayed his humor. My face burned as he winked at me. It seemed there was no end of feeling similar levels embarrassment and emotion like I had when I was a teenager where this man was concerned.
We watched as the alcohol burned away and the blue flame guttered out. I wiped the dish out with a cloth, gritting my teeth as two of my fingertips burned against the edge of the iron.
“Are you alright?” he asked, concern etched into the creases of his eyes.
