Page 67 of Touch of Death
Flinching as he leans toward me, but instead of touching me, he just points down to the water.
“Look,” he says. “Watch yourself; pretend that you are trying to draw yourself over with a single look.”
I frown as I turn my attention toward my reflection and try to do as he says. I almost laugh at my attempt. I look absolutely ridiculous just trying to be seductive.
It’s clear as day that I have no idea what I’m doing.
“Try again, but widen your eyes and part your lips slightly.”
I do as he says, but it does little to make me look any more natural. Before I can say as much, though, he gives me another expression to try.
Watching myself, I have to fight back the urge to cringe. I look so unnatural, so unlike myself, that I’m not sure how anyone could find this pretty, let alone seductive.
“No, not like this,” Eros says, mimicking my expression. “Like this.”
I stare at him in shock, once again surprised by how well he’s able to copy me without ever having seen my face.
“I think you’re better at mimicking me than I am you,” I say with a sigh. “Perhaps you should be the one seducing Cerberus instead of me.”
My comment doesn’t get the reaction I’d hoped as Eros instructs me to try again. This time, a pout.
My face refuses, and I look more like I’ve just stubbed my toe than anything. Frustration tugs at me as I frown down into the water.
“Close your eyes, mortal. Try using what I taught you yesterday.”
I glance at Eros’ reflection beside me in the pool. Hesitantly, I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
“Feel the emotion you are attempting to use. Harness the energy you are trying to draw to you,” he says, his voice warm and comforting.
I bite my tongue as I try to make myself understand his words, but they mean nothing to me. Not when I’d felt it by accident yesterday.
My mind races as I remember how I’d felt in my old life. What drawing attention to me had gotten me in the way of my stepfamily … and all hope drains out of me.
How could I ever want to harness a power that only draws the attention of people like that?
“Focus.”
“I’m trying,” I snap before letting out a frustrated sigh.
I’m not back at my father’s house. My stepbrother is not waiting in the next room to corner me, I remind myself. Still, it takes a moment for my shoulders to relax.
“Paint a picture of what you want to accomplish in your head.”
Sighing, I try my best, but I have no idea how to picture seduction. I’m not even sure how it truly feels, so how am I supposed to paint a picture of it in my head?
My mind spins as I struggle to make this work ... Until my thoughts turn to Death.
I can see him so perfectly, and my heart skips a beat in my chest.
I imagine the way he pulls on his leather gloves. The way he strode through the halls of his palace, his cloak swishing around his feet.
The way he would sit and watch me eat, his eyes never once straying from my face. The dance of his shadows around him when he was particularly amused by something or the softening of his eyes when he looked at my paintings.
How his hands were so gentle with me … The feel of his lips when they pressed against mine and how perfectly they fit there.
It doesn’t take much for me to paint a full picture of him in my mind, and suddenly, it makes sense.
Where Eros drips lust and desire, Death is something else.
