Chapter 10

Whistlethorpe Ice Cream Parlor was owned by a man named Perry and did every flavor of ice cream I could think of, but I went with my go-to flavor of mint chocolate chip. Ordell settled on the tart flavor of raspberry ripple but had Perry add chocolate sauce.

The cone looked tiny in his hand and his tongue large and flat when he took a swipe of it. I needed to stop staring. I looked away, cheeks hot as I focused on my own cone.

“Let’s sit and eat them here,” Ordell said. “There’s a window table. We can watch the world go by.”

I followed him across the room, suddenly realizing why it felt so good being in his company. Ordell made decisions so I didn’t have to, and in my line of work, that was a luxury that was often denied me. Decision-making was exhausting, and after a while, even the small choices were a drain, so being with Ordell was like a vacation.

We settled at the table face-to-face, bodies angled so we could watch the street. The wind had picked up, and people walked faster, clutching at the lapels of their jackets, chins tucked in to hide their faces from the worst of the bitter cold.

There was something deliciously rebellious about eating ice cream in this weather.

“We should pick up some hot chocolates on the way back,” Ordell said. “There’s a place by the carriage park.”

He really did have a sweet tooth. “Ice cream and hot chocolate? This is new. I could get used to this.” My tone was light and teasing, but his expression sobered immediately, ocean blues boring into me searchingly.

“I’m sure you’ve been pampered on your dates plenty of times, haven’t you?”

I dropped my gaze to my cone. “I don’t date. No time.” Not strictly true, but it would do.

“There’s always time to make connections, Orina.” His tone dropped intimately low, inviting me to share.

“I have connections. Some friends for life. My Order. It’s enough.”

“And love?”

My chest ached, but I forced an eye roll. “Yeah, I’m not sure that’s for me.” I wrinkled my nose. “I’ve seen what love can do to people. It’s messy and confusing, not to mention emotionally painful.”

His eyebrows pinched. “And you prefer to keep your emotions in check, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “It works for me.”

“And sex?”

Wow, he didn’t hold back, did he? “What about it?”

He lapped at his ice cream, and I couldn’t help but track the motion of his tongue. “Do you have sex often?”

The flutter between my thighs over his ice cream licking action reminded me just how long it had been since I’d seen any kind of action. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”

“Maybe.” His eyes darkened, his intimate tone deepening. “But I can tell you that sex is important. Our bodies need it to thrive. You should have it often.” He shrugged. “If you want, you can have sex with me.”

I almost choked on my ice cream, coughing to clear my airways. Had I heard him correctly? The intense look on his face told me that yes, yes, I had. “How generous of you.”

He kept his gaze locked on me as he licked his cone, and my body prickled with desire, nipples hardening painfully, trapped in the confines of my sturdy bra. He licked his lips, and once again I tracked the movement like a depraved hussy. Was he doing it on purpose? To turn me on? Whatever the case, it was working.

Ordell wasn’t the first attractive male I’d come across since being ordained, but he was the first to elicit such powerful physical reactions. This man was going to be a problem.

“Let me rephrase that,” he said finally, tone soft and hushed with words meant only for me. “I find you attractive, and I’d like to have sex with you on a regular basis. I believe we’ll have a rough year ahead of us, and having someone to help relieve the tension with will be healthy. No strings. Just fucking and friendship.”

My stomach flipped, and I dropped my gaze, not wanting him to read the longing in my eyes because sex wasn’t an option. Not for me. Not for any ordained. But it was also something we were forbidden to talk about. It was dangerous information in the wrong hands. Luckily, he took my silence and my lowered gaze as bashfulness.

“I’ve been too forward, haven’t I?” he said with a sigh.

I shook my head. “No. It’s fine.”

“I mean it, though. The offer is on the table. Think on it. No pressure.”

Our gazes locked. Heat zinging between us a live electrical connection that needed to be?—

A shadow slammed into the window. I jerked away from the glass, staring at the huge bird sitting on the sidewalk. It had a silver capsule dangling from its neck. “What the fuck?” It glared at me then flew up and pecked at the glass. “Ordell?” I looked over, but he was gone, and a moment later, he appeared outside. The bird flew up to perch on his arm, and Ordell fiddled with the capsule. He leaned in and whispered to the bird, then raised his arm for it to take off into the air again.

I sat forward as he rejoined me at the table. “What was that?”

“A raven. It’s how most messages are sent, and it’s used most heavily in Old Town.”

The perch and the bell at the mansion suddenly made sense.

“I have to get back to Old Town,” Ordell said, distracted now. “I’ll drop you back at the mansion.”

I guessed our bonding time was over.

Just as well, really.

The journeyback was mostly silent with Ordell deep in his thoughts while mine drifted to the evening to come. I needed more information on Ezekiel, and the best place to find it would be in the archives.

Mind on the task ahead, I swung myself out of the cab seat as soon as Ordell brought the carriage to a halt.

“So you didn’t need my help after all,” Ordell said.

I looked over my shoulder as I made my way to the house. “Never said I did. You presumed. Or maybe you just wanted to touch me.” Why did I say that?

He let out a bark of laughter. “See you later, angel.”

The clatter of hooves followed me into the house, and even though there was so much yet to sort out and understand about this place, I couldn’t help but take a smile with me.

I found Edwin in the living room with Padma. The fire roared in the hearth, and they sat reading on the cushy sofas. There was no sign of Merry or Haiden. Active Order members who were inactive…Yeah, this wouldn’t do. Not for long.

“Edwin, can you show me the archives?”

He looked up from his book, a dazed expression on his face as he surfaced from whatever story he was immersed in. “Sure.”

“I can take her,” Padma said. “This book is shit anyway.”

Edwin shot her a grateful smile.

I followed her through the exit on the far side of the room. “Where’s Merry?”

“In the attic painting. It’s the only thing that soothes her once we remind her what happened to the others. Maybe this time she’ll retain the information.” She didn’t sound too confident, though.

“What did happen? This fire. How did it start?”

“If you want details, you can read the report at the fire department. Our statements are in there. I don’t plan on reliving it for you.”

Ouch. “Fine.” My senses warned that she was hiding something. I’d push her once I knew more. Once I found holes in her story. “One of Ezekiel’s minions delivered a hat box with a head in it last night.”

“I heard.”

“You don’t have wards here?”

“Nope.”

Getting answers out of her was like drawing blood from a stone. “Why not?”

“Certain mageri magic doesn’t work here.” She stopped at a narrow door and turned to face me. “And before you ask, I’m not sure about what kinds of spells. I’m not mageri.”

Damn, she was frosty. “What is your problem with me?”

She snorted, incredulous. “Tell me, what did your precious Order liaison say when you called them about our situation earlier?”

“You’re pissed because I called in?”

“No. I’d expect nothing less from a newbie to this territory. What I’m pissed about is your holier than thou attitude. Like you’re better than us. Like you could have done this job better and saved—” She dropped her chin, breathing heavily through her nose.

I gave her a moment to get her emotions in check. “When’s the last time you sat beneath a wing?”

She made a sound of exasperation. “I can’t even remember.”

“We can’t do our jobs if we’re not centered.”

She lifted her gaze to meet mine, and my breath caught at the depth of emotion simmering in her dark eyes. A twisted cacophony, impossible for me to untangle. “Being centered here doesn’t do a damn bit of good.”

“Still, as your chapter leader, I’m ordering you to visit the chapel…We do have a chapel here, right?”

She swallowed hard. “Yeah, we do. The building at the back of the house.”

“Then get it done. Today.”

She looked as if she wanted to argue, but even if she hated me, she couldn’t help but recognize my authority. It was how we functioned. How we got the job done. Hierarchy. Order. Discipline.

It was obvious that all of that had been lost here because of the tragedy, but I would get it back. “I can’t bring your fallen operatives back, but I can fight to give us back our autonomy from the Sangualex.”

Was that a flicker of hope in her eyes? It died too quickly for me to be sure. “I’m sure you believe that but forgive me if I don’t.” She pushed open the door. “Archives are in here. The redwood glass case has the oldest stuff. The newer entries are in the oak bookcase with the other books. It’s all labeled, but I can stay and help if you need.”

Her tone said she’d rather do anything but that. I gave her a tight smile. “I can manage.”

She left me to enter the room alone. We had archive rooms at my chapter house too, but they were clinical affairs. Most of the information had been uploaded to computer files for easy access. Old journals scanned for ease of location. Everything cataloged and in place.

This room was more a library, and the lighting was electrical sconces, turned down low. Smart not to have oil lamps in here.

Floor-to-ceiling books had my fingers itching to explore the titles. Another time. I gathered the newer journals and carried them to the small table in the middle of the room.

Each journal began at the start of a rising year, but the handwriting changed throughout as the watchers were replaced.

Time to read.

“Orina?”Edwin tapped me on the shoulder.

When had he come into the room? “Hey.” I rubbed at my eyes. “What time is it?”

“Late. Haiden’s dishing up dinner.”

I glanced at my watch. How was it six already? “Shit, I lost track of time.”

“Yeah, this room can do that to you. No windows.”

“Good point.”

“Learn anything?”

“Confirmation of my own assessment and something that Godor, Ezekiel’s minion, let slip. Ezekiel likes to play games. He likes to prod and probe at people.” I picked up the most recent journal. “Barnaby survived by keeping a low profile. He observed from afar, and by his count fifty-two people were drained that year. He says letting go of the reins is all that worked. Interference seems to fuel Ezekiel’s bloodlust. He lived here at the chapter house.”

“Fifty-two people…”

“Yeah, fifty-two too many in my opinion.” I sat back in my seat. “But his fourth rising, there were only eight recorded deaths by his hand. The lowest.”

“I know that one,” Edwin said. “That was Isiah Juniper, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, and he lived at the castle.”

“You think that has something to do with it?”

“It must. Everyone else stayed here, stayed away. Some tried to work with him, but most gave up and rode out the year. I’m pretty sure the death toll has been manipulated too.” I tapped one of the journals with my fingertips. “This one was insightful, filled with observations about his personality.” I flipped it open to the relevant page. “It says, pride will be his downfall. I can use this stuff. I can keep him in check if I’m close by.”

Edwin’s eyes flared. “You’re not seriously thinking of moving into the castle with him, are you?”

The thought had crossed my mind, and now that he said it… “I think I have to. The data is in favor of that.”

“But you can’t know for sure. That’s one account.”

“One account from an operative who survived and who managed to save the most lives. I think that matters.”

Edwin gnawed on his bottom lip. “I don’t like the idea of you alone up there with…him.”

“I’m not exactly overjoyed myself, but I came here to do a job, and I plan to do it thoroughly. And I won’t be alone with him. I’ll make sure of that.”