A Temptation of Angels (20 page)

He looked into her eyes. “Does it hurt?”

She shook her head. “Not really. I think I simply thought it would.”

He nodded, repeating the action until her arm was clean. The wound still dripped blood, but at a much slower pace
than it had before. He rested her arm across his knee as he unraveled the clean bandages.

“I don’t want to soil your trousers,” she protested.

“Nonsense.” He shook his head. “They can be cleaned. And we’re almost done.”

Lifting her arm with the utmost care, he began coiling the bandage around it. She tried not to flinch when the first layer of cloth came to rest against the cut. She could see how careful he was being, how much he didn’t want to hurt her, and she sat quietly as he wrapped her arm until there was no trace of blood.

Setting the unused bandages aside, he looked up at her.

“There. I think that should do it,” he said. “How does it feel?”

She looked down at the arm. “Good, I think. Well, as good as can be expected.”

Lifting the basin of water, he rose from the floor. His face was tight, his expression so closed she had no idea what he was thinking. He placed the bowl of water on the washstand against the wall, rinsing his own hands in the basin that was always full in her chamber.

The sight of his strong back and broad shoulders hunched over the washstand caused an unexpected tide of tenderness
to rise within her. There was blood on his shirtsleeve. He looked suddenly weary and in need of care himself.

She stood, crossing the room with no real idea of her intentions. When she came within two feet of his back, he grew very still, as if he heard her approach and was afraid to scare her away. For a moment, she was frozen with indecision. There was a line between them now. She could almost see it pulsing in the air. Once it was crossed, nothing would ever be the same again.

She stepped forward, placing a hand carefully on his back.

“Thank you.” She hesitated before continuing. “I’m… I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

He turned slowly until he was facing her, his body only inches from her own.

“You’re no trouble, Helen.” His voice was deep and low.

Her eyes dropped to the front of his chest. She had not noticed the blood there before, but now she saw that it was not just on his sleeve, but on his shirt front as well. A small triangle of smooth flesh was visible near his collarbone. She could see a smudge of her blood on his skin.

She didn’t even think about reaching forward.

“I’ve bled on you,” she said as her fingers grazed the fabric of his shirt. “It will stain.”

He lowered his eyes to her fingers, and she thought she heard him suck in his breath as she began undoing the buttons.

Reaching down, he covered her hands with his, stilling them. “It’s not necessary.”

She shook off his hands, continuing the task of unbuttoning his shirt. “Don’t be silly. You’ve played nursemaid to me. Let me help you now, Griffin. It’s the least I can do.”

She did not say what she now knew; that she didn’t want to stop. That she relished the feel of his chest under her hand and could not have stopped if she tried.

He nodded, saying no more as she finished the last button.

“Turn,” she said softly.

He turned toward the basin, offering her his back, and she slid the linen from his shoulders. His muscled back was revealed a little at a time, the tattoo she had seen in his chamber becoming visible bit by bit until she held the shirt in her hands.

The image was breathtaking. It was the same symbol she had seen on Galizur’s strange screen, though this one was elaborately rendered in deep blues, greens, and purples. Her fingers moved unbidden toward it. Griffin’s body stiffened as she traced the circles that overlapped across the sinew of his back.

“It’s… It’s breathtaking,” she whispered. “It’s the Flower of Life, isn’t it?”

He nodded without speaking.

“How long have you had it?” she asked, her fingers continuing their journey across his skin, pausing atop places where the circles seemed to form smaller, abstract flowers. The image on Galizur’s screen had been cold, scientific. But somehow on Griffin’s back the symbol was transformed into something strong and beautiful. His skin was warm as she tracked the design down the length of his spine, her fingertips working their way outward to the place where the circles disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers.

He cleared his throat. “Since the death of my parents. Darius and I did it to remind us.”

Her fingers stopped moving at the base of his spine, still resting against his skin. “Remind you of what?”

Turning, he caught her fingers in his hand as if her touch was painful. “That we are still and always will be connected to our parents. To one another. To the other Keepers and to the people of this world we all inhabit.”

“It’s a lovely reminder. And true.” She reached beyond him for the wet cloth and began rubbing gently at the blood on his skin.

“Do you mind?” he asked suddenly.

“Mind what?”

“Being one of the Keepers.”

She thought about the question. She had lost everything because of her role, unbeknownst as it had been, in the Alliance. And yet her parents had trained her for the position, had obviously wanted her to assume it. To shun it would be to dishonor them, to say nothing of her attachment to Griffin and Anna and even, in some strange way, to Darius.

“No,” she finally said. “Not if it means I’m connected to my parents. And to you.”

He caught her gaze and all at once, she was lost in the green-gold sea of his eyes. He shook his head suddenly as if angry.

“What is it?”

“I should never have let Darius challenge you. I know how much it means to you to be armed. I thought he would engage in a little harmless sparring and you would have your weapon. I had no idea he would take it as far as he did.”

She gave him a small smile. “I meant what I said in the ballroom, Griffin. You had to know you could count on me, and while I certainly proved myself an unskilled fighter, at least I know I’m not a coward.”

Surprise touched his face. “A coward? Why would you say such a thing? Why would you even think it?”

She looked away. “I’ve never stood up for anything. Not really.”

“You’ve never had cause to until now,” he said.

But I have
, she thought.
I had both cause and opportunity when I was alone with Raum.

“Yes, because I’ve been nothing but a coddled child,” she said instead, her words full of bitterness.

“You’ve suffered more than most.” His voice was gentle. “We all have. Throughout history, most of the Keepers have lived sheltered childhoods before taking their place among the others and living in obscurity until the task was passed on to another generation. You haven’t even reached Enlightenment, and look at all you’ve suffered.”

“It doesn’t count,” she said stubbornly. “Not really. Not until I actually do something. And today, for the first time, I felt like I might be able to do just that. Like I might be able to make a difference instead of standing by while everyone else makes sacrifices.”

“Helen.” Something in his voice made her look into his eyes. “I wish you could see what I see.”

“And what is that?” she whispered.

He took the cloth from her hand, placing it on the washstand, his eyes never leaving hers. “Someone who is brave and intelligent and true.”

“Yes?” Her breath caught in her throat.

“Yes.” His hands traced the fine bones of her cheek. They were so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. “And beautiful.”

“You… You think I’m beautiful?” She had never thought of herself as beautiful before. Had never even thought to wonder about it. Now she felt the heat rise within her at the knowledge that Griffin thought so.

His eyes darkened as he looked down at her. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She could find nothing to say as his hand slid from her face to the curve of her neck, his fingers sliding into the waves that had come loose during her fight with Darius. The distance between them closed further, filling up with their bodies as they moved together. When he lowered his face to hers, she leaned up and met him halfway.

At first, his lips lingered gently on hers. She wasn’t sure what to do. What came next. But it didn’t matter. Even this was enough, and she stood as still as she could, not wanting the moment to end. Wanting his mouth on hers forever. Then
the passion between them erupted, and all at once, his mouth opened on hers and she fell into the warmth of his kiss.

The floor dropped out from beneath her feet, sending her spinning into a black abyss where there was only Griffin. Only him and his mouth and their bodies molded together. She lost all track of time as his kiss transported her to a place where there was no death, no loss, no Raum. It was not until Griffin’s lips left hers that she realized she had pressed herself shamelessly against him. But even this realization was a whisper through the desire that was still thrumming through her veins.

They didn’t move. His fingers were still entwined in her hair, his breath coming fast and heavy as he looked down at her, his eyes dark with desire.

“This will complicate things,” he said.

“Yes.” She nodded. “Darius won’t be pleased.”

“Whether or not Darius is pleased doesn’t matter.” Griffin’s voice took on a hard edge, and for a moment, he almost sounded like his brother. “He has what he needs. He always has. Now…” he began.

“Yes?” she prompted.

“I need you,” he said.

T
hey met in the library to go over the schematics delivered by Galizur’s messenger boy.

“All right?” Darius asked, glancing distractedly at her arm.

“Right as rain.” She did not tell him that the gash throbbed every time she so much as moved a muscle.

He nodded in reply, his eyes shifting to Griffin, standing at her side. An imperceptible shift occurred behind the armor of Darius’s face. An appraising, as if he could sense that something had changed between Helen and Griffin in the two hours since the exercise in the ballroom.

Griffin’s mouth was set in a thin line. She had only seen the expression on his face a couple of times, but she already knew what it meant. Griffin was prepared to battle his brother, whatever the cost.

A moment later, Darius turned his attention to a large roll of paper sitting atop the desk.

“These are the plans for Victor Alsorta’s manor house outside the city. We need to go over them until we know every inch of the grounds and every way in and out of the house. That’s where you come in, brother.”

Helen looked up in question.

“Griffin is something of an expert at reading drawings like this. Architectural, engineering…” He shrugged. “My brother can read them all.”

Griffin said nothing as Darius unrolled the paper, spreading it across the surface of the desk and using odd objects to hold down its curling corners. Helen and Griffin leaned in, taking in the obvious markings of the house and its grounds.

“The first thing we need is a way in and a way out. A couple of backups on both ends wouldn’t hurt, either.” Darius placed a fingertip on a circular marking on the paper. From the looks of it, the area was some distance from the grounds. Darius continued. “There is a tunnel entrance just inside the gates connecting the house to the sewage tunnels of London. If we enter the tunnels here—”

“Excuse me,” Helen interrupted. “Did you say sewage tunnels?”

Darius grinned. “That I did, Princess.”

Helen took a deep breath. “Why can’t we jump?”

“Because according to the schematics of the surrounding roads and grounds, there aren’t any streetlights near the house. And even if there were, I’m not sure we could find a way over the fence.”

“Fine,” she sighed, trying not to envision the tunnels in her mind. It would do no good to think about them now. “The tunnels it is.”

Darius nodded. “It’s about five miles to this exit point. If we hurry and don’t encounter any trouble along the way—”

“What sort of trouble would we encounter?” It had never occurred to Helen that they might encounter trouble even before arriving at Victor’s estate.

There was no hiding the exasperation in Darius’s eyes when he answered. “Wraiths, demons, rats, thieves. Anything of that sort.”

Helen nodded, trying not to panic. “Right.”

Darius’s gaze lingered on hers for a moment before he continued, as if he wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to interrupt him again. “Barring any trouble, we should be able to make the trip on foot in about two hours.”

“And then what?” Helen asked.

“We come up here.” Griffin tapped the circle and began tracing a line from it toward the house. “Then we make our
way up the path to the house. It should be dark and easy to manage without being seen.”

“What about guards?” Darius asked. “Does the schematic show where they’re posted?”

“Here, here, and here.” Griffin tapped three sets of Xs on the map. One was at the gate, one at the front of the house, and one at the rear.

Darius narrowed his eyes. “Seems a little light for a man of Alsorta’s position.”

“These are just the ones we know about,” Griffin said. “There are almost certainly others inside.”

“What about the guards at the gate?” Helen asked. “They look to be close to our entrance point.”

“Not as close as they look on paper,” Griffin said. “But, yes. We’ll have to be quiet and careful when we make our ascent from the tunnels until we get our bearings.”

Helen’s mind was working in pictures. She could see the grounds, the tree-lined drive depicted in the plans spread out on top of the desk. She envisioned the imposing stone house in the distance, though she had no real idea what it would look like once they got there. It didn’t matter. Her mind simply needed a placeholder for everything so it could do the work of calculating their options.

“All right,” Helen said. “So we make it out of the tunnels without being seen. Then what? We sneak our way up the pathway and into the house?”