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He snapped his fingers. A wraithlike woman in a maid’s uniform appeared from nowhere, holding a slip of a black nightgown, the exact same one I wore the last time Danté had soul-sifted me. The night he’d possessed my soul and had nearly—
Calm down, Genevieve. Think. Think.
Danté propped one arm on the mantel, the other hand casually in his pocket as he watched me. I needed to leash this fear and think of a plan to get out of here. He hadn’t seen the weapon strapped around my thigh, or he would’ve taken it. I forced my expression into a blank slate, covering the inner turmoil bubbling in my gut.
“Come on, darling. While I do so like the Egyptian-goddess charade, it’s time we made this official.”
Danté leaned casually against the fireplace, but the hard look of lust in his gaze warned me he was at the breaking point. I gulped, staring at the zombielike creature with haunted yellow eyes like his slave Claudius, who I noticed was guarding the door. The zombie maid moved closer with the silky garment outstretched in her hands.
“I’m not changing in front of you.”
I was surprised, impressed how confident I sounded, the trembling gone from my voice. Danté managed a half smile.
“The blushing bride. Of course.”
He gestured to a changing screen in the corner near the bed. I took the nightgown and vanished behind the screen, which bore a tapestry of seven dragons, some roaring, some sleeping, some breathing fire. The seven princes.
I slipped out of my ball gown, removed the snake cuff on my arm and touched my fingers to the opal. I lifted and kissed the back of it where Jude reminded me who I was—the moon in the darkness,hismoon in the darkness. The blood cast between him and Danté would keep Jude from saving me. I had to save myself.
I closed my eyes, clenching the opal, cool in my palm, a comforting talisman giving me the strength to do what must be done.
“Hurry, my sweet. I grow impatient.”
Bastard.I’ve got something for you all right. I slipped the black gown over my head, the silky clinginess more abrasive than when I was soul-sifted here. I reminded myself that I was here, body and soul, more powerful than before.
Readjusting my strap and sheath to be sure it was hidden but in perfect position for my reach, I stepped out from behind the screen.
Danté stood in the middle of the room, bare-chested, wearing only black silk pajama pants. Man, did he have an obsession with silk.
“Ah, Genevieve.” His gaze brightened with open hunger, meandering over my body, making my stomach churn. “Like mother’s milk.” I quelled the sickness with the thought of my dagger buried in his heart.
He disgusted me. I smiled. The golden demon sauntered closer. My heart skittered in a panic, but my mask stayed in place. I even managed an alluring light in my eyes. How? I don’t know. Something still and quiet guided me now. The horror and fear muffled by purpose—the fervent need to punish this beast and to avenge myself and everyone who came before me.
“I don’t want an audience,” I said with dark sensuality, glancing at the maid and Claudius.
“Your wish is my command.”
Without saying a word, the two vanished into the walls. Literally.
The door to my bedroom remained open. As he drew closer, I knew that I’d have to kiss him. I couldn’t let him put his mouth near my neck. He might bite, drain my blood, and weaken me. I needed my wits and strength. I needed to be in control.
“There now,” he whispered as if trying to quiet a frightened animal, slipping his arms around my waist to my back. “Isn’t this more pleasant than last time?”
I managed a small smile, anxious because his arms blocked me from getting to the dagger. He must’ve sensed it.
“Shhhhhh. It’s all right. We can go slow, my sweet. I can be gentle when you’re a good girl.”
His finger tipped my chin up. I marveled at how absolutely beautiful he was in perfect hard lines. The paradox was staggering, knowing what this mask of perfection concealed. I forced myself to be absolutely still as he leaned down to me. Cold breath, cold lips pressed hard, prying mine open. My body wanted to reject—kick, bash, slap. I kept steady, my mind calm.
“Oh, my sweet. I can’t wait to crawl under your skin again.”
Terror gripped me hard. He meant full possession, a violation of body and soul, one that would surely send me over the edge into madness. His slow affection transformed into something raw, rough.
This was the Danté I remembered. His right hand pulled up the hem of the gown, squeezing my thigh opposite the dagger. I still couldn’t reach my weapon.
Take control, Genevieve.
As his hand drifted higher, I grabbed his wrist, pulling back to pierce him with sultry eyes.
