Chapter 26

Preternatural power flickered in his eyes.

Adrenaline flooded Ursula’s veins. I need a weapon. He’s going to kill me. She still clutched her wyrm-skin purse, but Abe had run off with her blade lodged in his gut.

She scanned the room for something sharp, her eyes landing on an old cutlass that hung above a porthole. But with Kester blocking her path, she wouldn’t be able to get to it.

He inched closer. “I should never have let you go on your own.”

“Emerazel said you had to send me alone, and I know you can’t disobey her.” Anger tightened her chest.

His eyes flashed. “That’s one of the few sensible things you’ve ever said.”

Frantically, Ursula’s eyes darted around the room. Since the cutlass was out of reach, she needed to identify an escape route if he was going to sacrifice her. “And she said you need to send me to her if I screwed up again.”

He stepped closer, bare feet padding across the deck, until he stood so close she could feel the heat rolling off him, and smell his earthy scent. His eyes trailed over her shivering body, like he was sizing up the value of his sacrificial victim, and her muscles tightened at his gaze.

Her heart thrummed. There was no way she could take on someone with his strength, not when she’d been drained by the incubus. And yet, she had no other choice. An image flashed in her mind—swords shining in the moonlight as someone trained her. Fight, Ursula.

Just as he took another step closer, she dropped her purse, throwing a hard punch to his jaw. He flinched, but didn’t move. With a racing pulse, she threw another, but her aim was off. He caught her fist in his hand, his grip iron-clad.

Spinning her around, he pulled her arm up behind her back, pushing her up against the wall. The splintered wood pierced her silk dress, and she fought to catch her breath.

“I told you,” he purred in her ear, his breath hot on her neck. “You can’t fight me. Let me?—”

Like hell I can’t. She elbowed him hard in the stomach, and he stumbled. She tried to race for the door, but he caught her by the hair, yanking her head back. He slipped his other arm around her body, holding her tight, and growled. “What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t want to die. Or burn. I don’t want to suffer for something F.U. has done, and I don’t want Zee to suffer because of her either. If I could murder anyone, it would be F.U., but that would create a paradox…” She let her thought trail off. She was babbling like a nutter now.

His strong body pressed into her back. “I wasn’t going to kill you.”

With one of his hands tightly fisted into her hair, and the other grabbing her shoulder, she wasn’t going anywhere. His arm heated her skin through her dress, warming her breasts.

“Are you talking about yourself in the third person again? It’s really strange.”

Relief flooded her. “You said there was no point fighting Emerazel. Just like there’s no point in me fighting you.”

He loosened his grip on her. “I should kill you. I won’t pretend it didn’t cross my mind.”

She stepped out of his grasp, hugging herself. Away from his warm body, the air chilled her skin. “But you’re not going to?”

Golden lantern light bathed his chiseled body. “I should, but no.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, confusion and anger warring across his features. “I don’t want to kill you.”

“I thought you did whatever Emerazel told you to.”

“Mostly, yes.” He looked away, his face suddenly sad. “But I loathe her.”

Ursula shook her head. “I don’t understand. I thought you were her Headsman. Why would you do whatever she wanted if you loathe her?”

Flames glinted in his eyes. “I hate that name. And the rest of it isn’t for you to worry about now.” He clearly wasn’t ready to bare his soul.

Shivering, Ursula hugged herself, eyeing the inviting sofa that called to her aching body. “Fine. But what is the point of all of this? Why is she so obsessed with claiming souls anyway?”

“Rest for a minute,” he said, nodding at the chair. “Maybe it’s time for you to learn something about your world before we hunt down Abrax.”

She collapsed into the chair with a sigh, letting the soft cushions embrace her. Her muscles sang with relief.

Kester ran a hand through his hair. “The souls of men are what give gods their power. Emerazel’s fire is fueled by the souls of her supplicants. Nyxobas’s magic works the same way. The gods are constantly warring over this human currency, and long ago they formed factions of shadow and light to fight against each other. When Abrax drained Hugo, he stopped us from acquiring the soul. He also steals any magic that Emerazel had invested in Hugo.” He eyed her with concern. “Like how he drained your fire before Zee stopped him. Honestly, it’s a miracle he didn’t take your soul.”

“It was odd. We became repulsed by each other as soon as his lips touched mine.”

He stared at her, surprise flickering across his features. “Really?”

She nodded. “But that means he stole Zee’s soul?”

“Half of it, at least.”

“Shit.” Ursula took a deep breath, trying to push that horrific thought out of her mind. “If incubi work for Nyxobas, what god do the fae work for? Is there a god we can appeal to for help?”

“No. Unlike every other magical creature on earth, they’re unaligned. They’re descendants of angels who chose to come to earth long ago.”

“Why would they want to live on earth instead of in the heavens?” She ached with exhaustion, but this was the first time someone was actually telling her something, and she needed to get as much out of it as she could.

“The fae are simply hedonists. They enjoy earthly pleasures.”

Ursula glanced at Zee, whose arm dangled limply over the side of the table. “We can save her if we find Abe.”

“Abrax.” His eyes blazed. “And maybe we can get Hugo’s soul back from him, too, so Emerazel doesn’t need to claim your soul. Then I’ll crush the life out of him.”

“What happens if we don’t get the rest of Zee’s soul back?”

“She won’t live for more than a few days.”

Dread snaked up her spine, and she pulled her white stone from her purse, rolling it between her fingers. “She’ll die?”

“Yes. Put your charm away. I’ve got to refill you. You drained the rest of your remaining energy in your foolish attempt at fighting me.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but she was too tired for an argument. “How do you refill me?”

He crossed to her, holding out his hand. She grasped it, and he pulled her up. As she stood, dizziness fogged her mind, and he slipped an arm around her back to steady her. “I will imbue you with Emerazel’s fire.”

She was suddenly acutely aware of his bare skin and the heat radiating from his body. She looked down at the slow rise and fall of his chest, drinking in his delicious, earthy smell. Oh, God. I don’t have the hots for this guy, do I? “Will that be painful?”

“No.” His gaze slid down to her shoulder. “I’m just going to put my hand on your scar. My heat will flow into you.”

“Okay.” She couldn’t take her eyes off his stunning face. No wonder he’s full of himself.

Kester pulled down the strap of her gown, then her pink bra strap. The cool cabin air tickled her skin. He pressed his palm flat against her shoulder. He closed his eyes, chanting in his strange language. A glorious, tingling heat pulsed from his fingertips over her skin, caressing her neck. The heat moved slowly, whispering around her throat, slipping lower over her breasts before pulsing down her abdomen. Was it her imagination, or was his thumb moving slowly up and down on her lower back, lazily stroking her skin through her silk dress? A hot, euphoric thrill seeped into her body, blazing through her core, and she fought the urge to press herself against his strong body. Molten power ignited her veins, and she felt a smile curl her lips. I’m back.

Kester opened his eyes, gazing down at her. “Better?” His thumb still languidly stroked her lower back, and she could feel herself arching into him.

Her eyes lingered on his perfect lips, and for just a moment, she considered kissing him—before she reminded herself that a) he was an entitled wanker most of the time, b) Zee’s unconscious body lay just a few feet away, and c) his nickname was “the Headsman.” Probably not a good idea to kiss someone named for an executioner.

She rolled her neck. “I feel amazing. I’m ready to find this incubus.”