A Temptation of Angels (15 page)

Raum. The thought of him brought her anger back to the surface. It was Raum’s fault her parents were gone. His fault Helen must feel not only their loss, but the loss of her very self. The loss of everything she’d thought herself to be, back when she believed she was kind and compassionate and, if
not physically strong, at least brave and willing to defend the things she loved.

She held her building rage close. Nurtured it like the lone spark necessary to light a fire.

And all the while she told herself it was because of what Raum had done that she was forced to see herself not as she once imagined herself to be, but as she really was.

S
ome time later, Helen sat up in bed, wondering how long she’d been asleep. Her rest had been fitful. She could only hope it would be enough to see her through the coming hours.

The space beyond the curtains was dark, but Griffin had not come to retrieve her for the trip to Galizur’s. She dressed quickly, adding a buttoned waistcoat to her snug top, too fitted to be truly appropriate, though that was hardly the point. It was ease of movement she was after and fabric that wouldn’t catch, should she find herself scaling another fence. The waistcoat was for warmth alone. Masculine and many buttoned, it was reminiscent of a military coat and would only add to the oddity of her attire. Even still, it was quite cold, and she could not afford to be preoccupied by physical discomfort on the trip to and from Galizur’s.

Heading for the door, Helen grabbed her gloves off the mantle. Crafted of supple ivory leather, they covered her knuckles while leaving her fingers bare.

All the easier to hold a sickle. Or better yet, a glaive.

Of course, there was no guarantee Darius would see fit to arm her with either, but she would have to insist. It was the unexpected nature of her meeting with Raum that had thrown her off guard. If she had been prepared—if she had been armed—she would not have let him leave the rubble of her home alive.

It was this she told herself as she made her way through the darkened hallways toward the staircase. The rest, however short, had done her good. She felt in control for the first time since the fire.

The house was quiet, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer the only sound as she descended the stairs. She began to worry that Darius and Griffin had left her behind, but a moment later, she heard their voices coming from the library. She continued to the back of the house. The voices rose in agitation as she approached the doorway, and she stopped just outside, catching bits and pieces of the conversation.

“…however you justify it,” Darius finished. “It’s unwise to form an attachment.”

“What about your attachment to Anna?” Griffin’s voice was challenging. “Is that unwise as well?”

“That is not the… and you know it.” She could hear the steel in Darius’s words.

“It is. And just because you’re my older brother, doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do in my personal life.”

Helen took a step back toward the wall, trying to process what was being said. Were they talking about her?

“Your mistakes are yours to make,” Darius said quietly. “I’m simply trying to save you the pain of making them.”

“Your reference to my affection for her as ‘a mistake’ only proves how little you know. Now, kindly stay out of my affairs, will you?” Griffin asked, but Helen knew it wasn’t really a question. She had never heard him take a stand with his brother in such a way. The fact that it might be due to her made her exceedingly uncomfortable, and her cheeks burned even in the shadows of the hall.

She turned around, walking carefully back toward the staircase before turning yet again. This time, she announced her arrival.

“Griffin? Darius?” she called, heading back to the door of the library.

“In the library.” She wondered if it was her imagination that Darius’s voice was curt.

Retracing her steps, she plastered a look of calm on her face and tried to forget the conversation she had overheard minutes before. It didn’t quite work. When she met Griffin’s eyes, she could only hold his gaze for a second before her eyes flitted away from his.

“What time is it?” she asked. “How long did I sleep?”

“Nearly three hours.” Griffin rose from the sofa. “It was obviously needed. Do you feel better?”

She nodded. “Much. Though I was worried you might have left for Galizur’s without me.” Without meaning to, she cast a look in Darius’s direction.

He laughed aloud. “I suppose you’re not far off to think I’m the one who would suggest leaving you behind, though probably not for the reasons you imagine.”

“Please.” she said, already annoyed.“Enlighten me.”

He stepped around the desk, grabbing a waistcoat off the chair as he made his way toward her. “It’s simply a matter of safety. Yours and ours. You’re not ready to face the wraiths and
demons that hunt us, and your untrained presence is a distraction.” His eyes swept to his brother’s face. “To some of us more than others.”

Helen saw Griffin’s cheeks flush in the moment before he turned away. She hated being used as a pawn in the game of one-upmanship Darius insisted on playing. And she hated being used against Griffin most of all.

Lifting her chin, she tried to sound nonchalant. “Perhaps I wouldn’t be such a distraction if you gave me a weapon to defend myself.”

Darius’s laughter was a bark into the room. “On the contrary. It would be even more of a distraction to have you wielding a weapon for which you have had no training. More so because we would be in close proximity. One slip and we’d be the ones dead.”

Her chest tightened with anger, a sensation she was growing accustomed to around Darius. “Yes, but—”

She did not have time to lodge her protest before Darius, one hand raised against her words, stopped her.

“Griffin has already argued your case, Helen. I won’t arm you. Not now. And that’s the end of that.” He was already heading for the door, his next words directed at no one in particular. “Shall we?”

With Darius well ahead of her, Helen was still seething when Griffin pulled her under the light of the streetlamp.

“I don’t understand why he gets to make all the decisions,” she ranted.

“He doesn’t,” Griffin said. “Sometimes it’s simply more effective to ease him into an idea.”

The touch of his hand on hers was oddly intimate. Her tirade was immediately forgotten, though she hardly remembered the moment when Griffin had held her close the first time they went to Galizur’s. Now, as Griffin’s fingers grazed her waist, his arms pulling her tightly against him until she felt the strength of his body against her back, a tingling started in her belly, rising upward until her cheeks grew hot.

She spoke to cover her nervousness. “I think I should learn to jump on my own soon, don’t you?”

“And deprive myself of the opportunity to be near you?” His voice was husky in her ear, his breath tickling the tender skin of her neck. “That seems foolish on my part, but if you’d like to learn, I’ll teach you.”

She nodded, her voice stuck in her throat.

“Very well,” he said. “But not tonight. Tonight you’ll stay with me.”

There was something possessive and bold in his voice. Something she hadn’t heard there before. But she didn’t have time to put a name to it. A moment later, he pulled her more tightly against his body and she felt the odd displacement she’d felt before. Her physical being breaking itself down, disappearing like smoke into the London air.

And then she was back under the streetlight in front of Galizur’s, Griffin’s arms still around her.

“You can let go now.” Helen followed Darius’s sarcasm to the step where he stood, waiting for their arrival.

Griffin did, stepping away, and Helen was surprised to find she missed the warmth of his body next to hers.

They made their way toward Darius, following him to the door. Anna answered his knock a short time later and, after a short and hurried greeting, they trailed her through the darkened halls as they had done before. Helen was already used to the silence. The journey to the parlor seemed like a passage to another world, the quiet only adding to the feeling that they were leaving one world behind and entering another, as if the labyrinthine halls were a place of transition and speaking would break their spell.

Finally, Anna closed the last door behind them, turning to
lock it with one of the keys from the oddly ornate ring. She turned to them with a smile.

“Father is in the laboratory. He’s a bit frustrated with the progress on one of his newest inventions.” She looked at Darius. “Perhaps you’d like to take Griffin down while Helen and I prepare tea?”

Darius nodded, his eyes soft, and Helen marveled that he could look so different by virtue of the fact that he was gazing upon Anna. His affection for her changed his features completely. Or rather, he seemed to come more fully into them, as if his everyday countenance, the one that was angry and smug and sarcastic, was a mask he only let drop in the company of Anna.

“Will you be all right?” Griffin asked, turning to Helen.

She smiled. “Of course.”

He gave a small nod of his head. As Helen watched him descend the stairs after his brother, she couldn’t help wondering at the look in his eyes. She appreciated his protection, of course, but she was not sure if she wanted to be looked at in the way Darius looked at Anna. As if she were fragile. A thing to hold gingerly, as one holds a delicate rose, careful not to bump its silken petals lest they should spill to the floor.

“Well!” Anna’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “I daresay you’ll know how I feel soon!”

Helen’s cheeks grew warm. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course, you don’t.” Anna grinned, and Helen caught the first glimpse of something clever and sly in it. She linked her arm with Helen’s. “Come. We can talk all about it while we get the tea.”

Other than her parents, Helen had had little company over the years. She was only now beginning to sense how very alone she had been. Anna’s offer of friendship was a lifeline, and though Helen was unused to being touched by strangers, she allowed herself to be pulled from the room, unable to stop the smile that sprang to her face as Anna told her of the difficulties she had suffered due to Darius’s overprotective nature.

“He’s simply maddening!” she said, letting go of Helen’s arm to cross the kitchen. She made her way to the kettle, steaming angrily atop the stove. “The way he behaves, you would think I’m about to fall over dead any moment.”

“Why does he worry so?” Helen asked.

Anna sighed. “My heart has a small irregularity,” she said. “It gets bored beating to the same rhythm day after day, you see.”

Helen shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“Well,” Anna hesitated, reaching into one of the upper cabinets for a tin of tea before continuing. “It skips a beat now and then, and sometimes it speeds up so that I’m short of breath.”

“Does it hurt?” Helen asked, moving toward the counter where Anna spooned tea into the cups.

Anna stopped for a moment, looking into the distance as if the answer to Helen’s question lie against the faded paper on the far wall.

“Not exactly.” She laughed a little, turning her gaze to Helen. “It rather feels like I’ve been running too fast. I can feel it beating in my chest, and then my face feels very hot as if I’m coloring from embarrassment. But no.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Is it…” Helen paused, searching her mind for an appropriate word. “Is it dangerous?”

Anna turned to Helen, placing a hand gently on Helen’s arm. “You’re wondering if I’ll die from it.”

It was not a question, and Helen was surprised at the ache that formed in her own heart at the idea of something happening to Anna. Yet, Anna deserved the same truth she seemed to give to everyone else.

Helen nodded. “I suppose so.”

Anna’s smile was kind. “You needn’t worry. The doctors are still learning about my condition, but I’ve had it since I was born and have managed just fine.” She poured the steaming water into the waiting teacups and turned back to place the kettle on the stove. When she spoke again, it was under her breath. “Darius has to understand that I have obligations equal to my love for him.”

Helen tried to hide her surprise at the boldness of the confession.

“He worries that something will happen to you?” Helen asked. “Because of your heart?”

“Among other things. And I understand it. I do.” Anna set a saucer of sugar and a small dish of lemon on a silver tray. “But my family has been in service to the Dictata for centuries. They’ve suffered an assortment of hardships, yet they’ve all done their duty, as I will do mine.”

Helen assisted her in placing the cups on the tray. “And what is it, exactly, that you and your father do? That your ancestors have done for the Dictata?”

“We’re an intermediary of sorts,” she said. “We interface with the Dictata on behalf of the Keepers, giving you a representative in those matters that concern you. And we provide you with assistance to fight those who hunt you.”

Helen shook her head. “I don’t understand. I thought the executions were recent.”