XIV
"W hat do the Vranas want to see me about?" Stella's eyes drifted from the thinning crowd to Raphael's profile.
"Ruby wanted to see you, but about what, I don't know. I'm merely the messenger."
"And escort apparently."
Raphael directed Stella into the nearest hidden passageway, his breath ghosting over her hair as he trailed closely behind her.
"A role I'm suited for in more ways than one."
Stella scoffed as she began her ascent up the narrow spiral staircase, her hand naturally drifting out of Raphael's. The din of the crowd followed them into the cool, stonewalled stairwell. It ebbed away as they reached the midpoint, but gained as they approached the fifth subfloor.
"Not that way, love."
His fingers grazed the small of her back, and Stella glanced over her shoulder in mild surprise. "But this goes at least to the third subfloor," she reasoned, her movements slowing but not stopping.
Raphael gave a singular shake of his head, already propping open the passageway's door hidden behind an oversized painting with a small huff of exertion.
"We're not going to the Vranas."
"You said—"
"I know what I said in front of the audience we had." He swept a hand out in front of them. "We're going to my room to go over your… curriculum."
Stella's heart picked up its pace but didn't let it show. As she double backed down the stairs and exited into the hall, she sent him a playful glare.
"I think I'm exceeding expectations on that front, despite my teacher's lack of dedication." Stella wasn't sure where that flirtatious reply had come from, but a primal thrill ran through her nonetheless as his eyes dilated and he prowled after her.
"If I recall, it wasn't me who ended our last lesson." Stella managed to suppress her answering blush with a cocked eyebrow and sly smirk. Surprise alighted his eyes once more as he raked his gaze over her as if seeing her anew.
"That looks good on you," he commented before steering his gaze forward as he led them onward.
"Thanks," Stella replied. "The material is surprisingly soft." She held out an arm expectantly and was met with a cheeky grin from Raphael. He wiggled his gloved fingers at her. Stella let her arm fall, catching the eye of a few passing courtiers as she did. They eyed their twosome as if they were an exhibit at the zoo. It made her shoulders itch to hike up defensively.
"I'll take your word for it, but for the record, I wasn't talking about your dress," Raphael said. "You have a different walk about you."
Stella pondered his statement as he led them around a corner. "It's the shoes. They're one of the more comfortable pairs of heels I own."
Raphael chuckled good-naturedly while shaking his head. "No, that's not what I meant. You have a different air about you. A confidence and coyness I'm not certain I've ever seen you wear before. You have your spitfire moments, but this—" he dragged his eyes up and down the length of her "—is new."
Of course, any semblance of the confidence he detected ran away at being caught causing Stella to trip over her own feet. Raphael grabbed her elbow before she could tumble to the floor.
"Thanks," Stella muttered hastily, righting her gait and shaking off his helping hand.
Raphael laughed. "There's no need to sound so upset. It was a compliment."
Stella remained silent. Her flustered state only agitated further. This is what I wanted. To be more confident and show everyone you belong! What's wrong with me? Stella's best answer blamed the mountain of self-doubt she carried since stepping foot inside the Dark Court's walls.
Her bottom lip found its way between her teeth. It was one more piece of the equation she needed to work on to become a true courtier. One more giant piece of the equation.
"This way." Raphael guided her around another corner where the courtier crowd grew to a trickle. He stopped in front of a nondescript door and his hand lingered over the doorknob as he muttered a few words. Stella watched in fascination as a shimmer rippled over the door's surface before swinging open. "Coming?"
She entered after him, schooling her features into neutrality as she regarded his sleek furniture and minimalistic style. "Your place is very… clean."
Raphael slanted a knowing glance at her. "I think the word you're looking for is tastefully modern."
"Tastefully might be a stretch," she muttered.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
Stella walked further into the room. White and silver accents assaulted her from every direction, with pops of matte black that sucked any warmth from the room. "I feel like I've walked into the year 3000." Raphael snorted.
"In comparison to your shabby little shack, I'm certain it must." He held up a hand as Stella prepared to retort. "We'll agree to disagree on style."
"This is really your preferred style?" Besides the ultra-modern flare, it also screamed money. Raphael gave her his back as he drifted over to the built-in bar.
"It's my preferred way of telling my guests without uttering a word that I belong here." Stella glared at him. "Is your humble abode—emphasis on humble—your style?"
Stella shrugged and trailed a finger along the lone curved white sofa that dominated the center of the room. "I think it's cozy, if a little worn."
Raphael snorted again. "Right then, enough pleasantries. Let's discuss your progress."
"We started less than a week ago," Stella argued. Raphael's entire demeanor suggested he didn't care. Stella huffed, hands balling at her sides. "We set terms on the eleventh, had our first lesson ,"—flames engulfed Stella's cheeks—"on the twelfth, and now it's the sixteenth. That's only four nights."
"Been counting, have you?" Stella's flush deepened at Raphael's casual observance. "And technically, it's five nights." He pointed to a hodgepodge of dashes and abstract shapes decorating one wall in roughly the path of a circle— if you squinted—with a razor-thin piece of metal at its center angling upward. "It's past midnight."
" That's a clock?"
Raphael frowned. "Clearly. Now, stop avoiding the subject and sit. Where are you regarding the first two requirements? I'm aware of your progress on the third. That's going well, though it could use some extra attention."
Heat rippled in her lower abdomen at Raphael's sly undertone as she took a seat on the couch. It was stiff, but the fabric was luxuriously soft.
"There hasn't been an opportunity to show off my power."
"I sincerely doubt that, love. Around every corner is opportunity."
Stella crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not like anyone picked a fight with me. I'm not going to randomly use my power on someone."
"Why not use your power on Gabriel? He's vile enough to warrant any offense."
"I'll have you know, I was well on my way to figuring out his secret before you arrived. Using my powers on him would have been pointless."
Raphael chuckled and shook his head. "How did that go? Did you find out his dirty little secret, Stella?"
She swallowed as excitement of a different variety sang through her veins. Raphael's gaze grew heavy across her skin and her mouth went dry. Whatever pithy retort she planned to make vanished from her mind. Raphael drew forward a step. Instinctively, Stella's arms constricted around her chest.
Raphael paused, his gaze garnering an assessing glint. "You're always so tense. It makes you an easy target. You need to learn how to loosen up, Stella."
Stella flushed and snapped, "I'm not always tense. It's just—" She quickly clamped her teeth down on her tongue as Raphael joined her on the couch. The glow of curiosity brightened his expression.
"Just what?" He asked, voice dipping suggestively.
Stella swore her entire body went red with embarrassment. It's just that you get under my skin so easily. Too easily. Raphael's knowing gaze seemed to pick her apart and a smirk toyed at the ends of his lips as if he could guess exactly what she wanted to say. If only I could read him as effortlessly.
"Nothing."
Raphael smirked full out. "Shall we play a game perhaps before getting onto your… studies?"
Stella swallowed. "What kind of game?"
" Our game."
"Our— oh ." She blinked and shrank back a touch. "You want to play liar's dice again?"
A single shoulder lifted in a half-shrug. "Why not? We can play for truths."
"Truths?" Stella parroted.
"You said yourself that you were working on Gabriel to find out his secret. This can be a practice of sorts. You need to be mindful of the words you use to ask questions, lest your target finds out what you're really after."
Stella sighed in exasperation. "I know how to mind my words."
"Then prove it."
"Fine." Regret mingled with anticipation at the gleam that stole over Raphael's eyes when she responded to his bait immediately.
"Excellent," Raphael purred, rubbing his hands together. "The easiest way to get information out of someone is to ensure they're relaxed and comfortable around you. While I have my unique way of achieving such ends with you, getting a drink or two down the gullet of your target would work better. And what better beverage for the job than rhodiola? Your trademark drink of choice." Stella stiffened, but Raphael's smug delight didn't waver. "Tonight, that's what we'll practice with to let down our guard and share truthfully. You'll of course be at the advantage with your tolerance higher than my own."
Raphael rose mid-sentence to return to the bar, not bothering to wait for her confirmation before sifting through his stock of liquors and liqueur. Stella felt almost grateful that he didn't turn around to witness the apprehension playing out on her face. She had all of five seconds to compose herself before Raphael tossed a look back at her.
"Unless you'd prefer something without as much punch?"
Stella's jaw locked up momentarily before she got out between clenched teeth, "It's fine."
The devious gleam to his short look made Stella bristle further. She hated him for suggesting it but hated herself more for going along with it. Her eyes narrowed on his relaxed posture as he selected two short-stemmed glass goblets from the belly of the bar.
He'll regret this , Stella vowed silently. I am at the advantage.
Inexperienced drinkers of rhodiola could start feeling its pleasant number of effects after one glass. It took Stella four.
All she needed to do was outlast him four rounds. I can do this. With a fortifying breath, Stella rolled back her shoulders and crossed her legs. She would win just like before, and this time as her prize she would figure out what made Raphael tick... and his ulterior motives.
"Here we are." Raphael deposited their drinks on the glass coffee table. "I'll be just a moment, love. I believe my dice sets are somewhere in the bedroom." He began to leave but stopped and turned to slant a mischievous grin at her. "Unless you'd like to join me there?"
Stella leveled him with an unimpressed stare.
He chuckled softly. "A moment more then."
Stella's foot bounced anxiously as she waited for his return. Periodically, noises from the hall crept into the room. Each time her head swung around to catalog the voices coming from beyond the front door.
"Did somebody knock?" Raphael inquired, catching the tail end of one of Stella's looks. She shook her head. "Admiring the craftsmanship of the door then?"
"Something like that," she said matter-of-factly.
Raphael sat and handed her a leather dice cup. "Shall we toast before we begin?"
Stella's nose scrunched, but she took up her drink regardless. "To what?"
"To… secrets ."
"To secrets." Their glasses clinked and they each took a sip of the magical green liquor. There was little to no taste for Stella. Her tastebuds were overly used to its two primary notes, a front bite of sourness that made the mouth water and lingering end notes that were distinctly herbaceous.
Raphael's lips puckered as he set his glass near Stella's. "For truths then?"
Stella nodded. She couldn't rid herself of the rod of tension keeping her spine so straight, but she did manage to relax her expression. They shook and rolled their respective sets of dice on the glass coffee table, using their matching leather cups to keep their rolls concealed from each other.
"Are we playing with wilds?"
"Why not," Raphael said. "Ones, like before?"
A frisson of anticipation erupted over her skin as she agreed and began the betting. "Three fives."
Raphael barked out a laugh. "Diving straight in, are you?"
"Is there any other way?"
Another frisson danced over her arms and legs as she caught the look of light surprise cross his face. Catching him off guard and upending his expectations was fast becoming a guilty pleasure of hers.
"Four sixes."
Stella bit the inside of her cheek. Her roll contained three sixes. What were the chances Raphael had at least two? "Five sixes."
"Call." Stella preened in premature victory as he uncovered his roll. "Forgetting something?" Raphael pointed to the dice. Two ones stared back at Stella and her elation deflated like a balloon losing all its air. Raphael sent a sidelong glance to her rhodiola as he leaned against the back of the couch, his body half turned toward her. Stella took a drink, wetting her lips afterward as the faintest sense of pinpricks dotted the back of her neck.
"Tell me, Stella ." Raphael lingered over the last syllable of her name. "What are all your banshee powers?"
Stella's eyebrows hunched together. "I wasn't aware my powers were a mystery."
"Believe me, you've kept just enough air of mystery around what you can and can't do. I'd like specific details." Stella felt the immense urge to take another sip of the rhodiola. "Don't worry, we can keep everything that's said here between us."
Stella's gaze narrowed on him at the air of innocence he took on. Liar.
"I have the banshee's caoine, my scream." Her fingers grazed the hollowed dip above her clavicle and pressed upward along her neck. The unconscious habit registering only because of the way Raphael's gaze followed the movement. Her hand dropped to her lap. "At the moment, I'm trying to sing my, er, death warrants rather than scream them."
Nova flashed to the forefront of Stella's mind. The mere thought of her impending death caused Stella to tighten her grip on the goblet and take a lengthy sip.
"I presume singing might be easier on your vocal cords."
"That's the idea," Stella said hoarsely and set down the half-empty glass. A comforting weight settled over her nerves, calming their hyper-awareness and anxiety, and leaving her clear-headed. For the moment, at least.
"You have another scream too. The night we so serendipitously met in front of the Lunar Court."
Stella nodded. "My sonic scream."
Raphael snorted but was quick to apologize. "I mean no offense, but sonic scream? Selling it a bit hard aren't you?"
"I can damage or rupture a person's eardrums. Probably easier than most courtiers might think, given the sensitivity to both vampyrés' and shifters' hearing. It's powerful enough to blast people back and land them on their asses. It has the potential to kill too—though I haven't tested it yet."
"How would that work exactly?" Raphael's head tilted to the side, as if enraptured. No, engaged. Stella's chin lifted a whisper. "The sound of your voice would scramble their brain?"
"No. If I screamed loud enough it could cause an air embolism in someone's lungs. Then that embolism could travel to a person's heart and kill them," Stella explained calmly as she turned her body toward him, curling her knees up partially onto the couch and allowing her ankles to hang off the edge.
"It wouldn't do much good against a vampyré."
Stella raised both eyebrows. "True, but there are plenty of other supernaturals that it would work on."
Raphael paused for a moment as Stella's gaze rested on him meaningfully.
He cleared his throat. "Any other tricks up your sleeve?"
Reluctantly, Stella nodded. "My song can immobolize."
"And this song is different from your caione?" Raphael asked after several seconds dragged by.
"Yes," Stella confirmed and took up her cup and dice again leaving one out. Raphael was slow to follow, but his pace didn't stop Stella from making her next roll.
"Someone's eager to play," Raphael commented once he re-rolled. They went back and forth with their bets a handful of times before Raphael eventually called. Stella frowned at the results. "Are you attracted to me?"
Stella sucked in a breath. "You already know I am, otherwise, I wouldn't have entertained your attentions before."
He shrugged. "You don't need to be attracted to someone to pleasure them."
Raphael's answer had the unintended consequence of making her stomach drop. She eyed him surreptitiously over the edge of her glass, before taking her requisite drink.
The gleam in his eyes was gone. His smirk faded.
"I see," she murmured, setting down her glass.
Raphael scooped his dice into his cup. The sound of the dice clinking against one another and thudding against the leather of the cup hit her ears differently as she processed his words further. She didn't know whether to pity him for such sentiments or feel offended and humiliated by the possibility that he didn't find her attractive.
Don't go there. It doesn't matter if he finds you attractive or not.
Stella followed Raphael's lead, and made her next roll, leaving one out. Stella gauged the contents covertly.
"Two threes," Raphael started.
"Six threes."
"Call."
Stella's eyes widened. "Seriously?"
The sparkle returned to Raphael's eyes at her mild outrage. "Seriously. Go ahead, show your dice." He made a disappointed clucking noise as they revealed. "Too bad. Another win for me, and another dice lost for you."
With a grumble, Stella abandoned another die off to the side of the coffee table before taking a quick sip of her drink.
"What's your—"
"Oh, come now. I'd hardly call that a drink," Raphael commented as Stella set down her goblet. Their gazes seized one another, and a tingle erupted over Stella's soulmark. She quickly took another sip, this one longer, to mask the shock of the goosebumps that dotted her sternum.
Stella wiped away the almost syrup-like liquor from the corner of her lip, tongue darting out to clean the excess rather than tastelessly wipe it on her dress or Raphael's pristine white couch. Her first drink was almost empty.
"What's your question then?"
Finding the courage to meet his eyes once more, she was shocked to find them darker than they had been moments ago. His pupils were dilated, and he watched her with animal-like intensity.
"Are you all right?" Stella set down her goblet and stacked her hands in her lap.
"I'm fine," Raphael responded in a gruff voice and snatched up his drink to take a surprisingly deep swig. Stella's jaw lowered as he coughed and sputtered after swallowing. He shot her a glare amid his coughing fit—as if his incapability to handle his drink was her fault.
Stella refrained from rolling her eyes.
"Your question?" She let her impatience show in her voice and wondered absentmindedly if Raphael's other demonic talent was being an obnoxious—
"Where's your favorite quiet place in court?"
Her consciousness suspended abruptly at the question. "Huh?"
Raphael leaned forward slightly. The former intensity of his gaze crept back in. "If you couldn't choose your room or the Vranas' suite as a refuge or place of solace, where would it be? Everyone has one at court. A little place they like to escape to and hear their thoughts uninterrupted." Raphael inclined back as he let his question sit between them and took another casual sip of the rhodiola.
"I…" Stella bit her lip, uncertain of her answer.
Is there even such a place?
She ducked her chin as a frown blossomed over her features. Then her lips pursed. She did know of such a place, but she didn't want to tell him or anyone else for that matter. It was hers.
Fingers grazed her shoulder breaking Stella away from her thoughts. Her head jerked up. Raphael's expression was one of pensive regard, but a distinct glaze was fast overcoming his brown eyes. Her heart jumped a beat.
Get him to finish one glass and you know he'll have a second. Then he won't remember anything you say tonight , a devilish voice crooned from the corner of her mind.
Stella shifted in her seat.
"There's a little gallery on the first subfloor." Stella's fingers twined together. "It's full of watercolor paintings of flowers. I'm sure I'm not the only courtier who considers it a small sanctuary away from all the madness of court. Since I don't have access to the Lunarium, it substitutes as an indoor garden of sorts."
His fingers continued their delicate dance over the bulb of her shoulder. "I'll remember that," he promised.
Stella's stomach tightened. That was the last thing she wanted. There were too few places to take refuge in court outside of one's own room and knowing Raphael's proclivity to delight in her discomfort… it was the hardest hit she'd taken from him yet. Of course, his mean words cut, but they weren't anything new to her. This though... this was actively taking something from her. She didn't like it one bit.
If it weren't for the rhodiola tampering with her nervous system, she'd be boiling with indignation.
"Again?"
She was already reaching out toward her cup and three remaining dice as she spoke. Raphael's hooded gaze stalked her patiently as she shook and rolled out her dice under the cover of her cup. She didn't dare peek at her roll before Raphael deigned to roll as well.
One, four, three.
Their bidding lasted seven rounds before Stella called Raphael's bid of four fours.
" Finally ." Stella sighed as the count came out in her favor.
Raphael reclaimed his goblet, palming it casually between his fingers. "Finally, indeed." He finished his drink, keeping his eyes on Stella the entire time. "Whatever truth will you seek?" He pondered aloud. His fingers drummed softly against her shoulder. Stella stiffened. "I have a feeling it will tell me quite a lot about you."
"Oh really?"
"Undoubtedly." He answered with annoying confidence.
He's just trying to get in your head.
"Shall I pour myself another while you think?" Raphael asked when she remained silent.
Stella let out a little humph before offering him a saccharine smile. "Go ahead, you're going to need it anyway. I don't plan on losing any more."
He returned her smile and then moseyed back over to the bar, a swagger to his step. Her brow furrowed as she contemplated her options. Every possible question that came to mind didn't seem good enough. She reasoned she should ask something specific or broad about demons in general. They were notoriously secretive about the scope of their supernatural abilities.
And any information she could gather would be of use in some way, and yet…
He'd ruined her haven. She'd never be able to go there again without wondering if he might show up purposefully to disturb her peace or tell others about it to spite her. She didn't trust him. Stella doubted she ever would.
Inspiration struck, and a wave of shivers raced up her spine at her ingenuity. Raphael was none the wiser as he poured himself another glass.
She would take something from him, too. Something personal and something that shone a light on one of demonkind's most well-kept secrets.
"How did you become a demon?"