Nightshade (Nightshade, #1)

by Keri Lake

“He seems familiar to me, for some reason.”

lowered my arm to find Cerberus sniffing it. The spot of my birthmark. He dragged his nose over it in a way that felt invasive. As if it held a particular scent to him.

“It’s clear they’re smitten with you. There isn’t a soul in Blackwater they’ve shown so much … affection toward, aside from Master Van Croix. You must stay now.”

Beyond the familiarity in her gaze, she gave off a strange sort of warmth that settled deep in my bones. And that scent. That indescribable, cloying scent, ripe with delicious femininity, sentiment, and the unrelenting vitality of an unwilted mortal soul. A savory aroma only found in the earthly realm. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Those eyes. Those peculiar-colored eyes that bore a striking resemblance to the woman I’d fucked during my dreams for months. Her long, black locks of hair that I’d held tight in my palm.

“Then, she stays. What is her name?” “Farryn.” At that, I swung around to face Anya and frowned. “Did you just say Farryn?”

One who’d claimed to know me, but I couldn’t recall having ever seen him in my life. The crazy old man had left me with the timepiece and a plea: To seek out his only daughter and watch over her. Of course, I never did. He’d

Let all that you do, be done with love (Corinthians 16:14). Farryn I hadn’t heard, nor thought, about the name since then, until Anya had mentioned it earlier. As soon as she spoke the name, I recalled having seen a picture of her that the man had waved in my face. Black hair. Unusual eyes. All this time I’d been dreaming of her, forgetting where I’d first seen her. The old man had cursed me with visions of his own daughter.

She was trouble and temptation wrapped in a scent that would eventually drive me mad, unless I could stay away from her.

Bishop Venable had warned her a number of times to stay away from the rooms there, but particularly the one with the symbol etched into the door’s thick wood. The one she’d come to recognize as the Pentacrux. The same sign branded into her flesh.

suppose. Though, I do not believe only those who lead perfectly pristine lives are granted entry. I believe in an afterlife which accepts all, regardless of their transgressions.”

“As of late, my thoughts are wrapped up in you, and as such, I do not notice the pain nearly as much. Or I welcome it, if only to imagine it as my suffering just to see you again.”

“Jericho.” “Your scent … that deliciously immaculate scent. So pure.”

“The way it taunts me relentlessly. It is not right, this violence you incite in me. This desire to hurt at the mere sound of my name on your lips.”

“I knew the very moment I laid eyes on you that you were too good. Too pure. Some say it is in the eyes, but I could smell it on the air. I wanted to drown in it. So perfect was your soul.”

“I would sooner watch the world and every creature in it burn to the ground than to raise my hand against you, Lustina. You are the only thing that matters to me.”

“The only torment I wish to inflict is my own. Touching you, and knowing that you will never belong to me. You will never be mine to keep from the world.”

want to be good. If for no one else, then for you.”

“Everything about you taunts me, Lustina. Your eyes beckon me to stare. Your scent beckons me to breathe. Your skin beckons me to touch.” His eyes flinched, the hand which had lowered her dress balled into a fist, and she felt a shuddered breath against her neck. “Do you have any idea what would happen, if I took you as I want to right now?”

“There are other ways to torment a woman. Now, tell me the name of this stranger who’s trounced on what is mine.” “What is yours?” “You heard me correctly.” “All right, then.”

I brushed my thumb over the fabric of my sleeve which hid my birthmark. Not that I’d have shown him and risked looking as nutty as my father had always sounded talking about it. “Yes,

“I think so. Only one whose name I didn’t catch was a blond man.” “Remy. He’s Master Van Croix’s righthand man.” “He’s a strange one, isn’t he?”

“My mother may not have been extended the grace of a Christian burial, but I loved her no less than you loved yours. And if that makes me a witch in your eyes, then you are as blind as everyone else.”

“My condition?” “Innocence and naivete. You stink of it.” His jaw clenched, as if the word left a bitter taste on his tongue.

“Are you aware, then, that the scent you carry is quite unusual. A pure and earthly aroma. Living. Which is a mystery, given where we are.”

“It means, while some may be immune to it, I can assure you, others may find it completely intoxicating.”

believe Pentacrux might be … the dark ones.” “The dark ones?”

“Not entirely premonitory. I do dream violent things, sometimes, but I’ve a feeling the Pentacrux are behind not only the murder, but that feather, too.” “And what gives you that feeling?” “Because what my father believed to be their emblem was left behind at a different murder.”

“Forgive me for earlier,” he said against her lips. “You are the only person left in this world for me. I fed you my wrath, and still, you offered nothing but grace. You, of all people, did not deserve that.”

“My heart has always been a restless scavenger, Lustina. But in you, I have found repletion. I do not wish to lose that. Or you.”

“They believe something is wrong with me. That I carry an evil inside of me.” His stillness turned to pacing, and he rubbed the back of his neck in a way that sent a nagging sense of uneasiness into her bones. “If I were you, they would have burned me at the stake, like your mother.” Halting mid-step, he shook his head, his behavior erratic and worrisome, but she remained quiet, observant. “My apologies. Forgive me for saying that. I meant only to say that, because I carry the prominence of title and name, they carry out their tortures in a far more clandestine way. Under the guise of exorcism

“Because I can see things that should not be seen. Hear things that cannot be heard by anyone else.” “Like the birds. But I can hear them, also.” “Because you carry something they recognize. A piece of my soul.” He stepped toward her and reached out to cup her face in his palm. “We were fated to be together. It is your light to which I am drawn, Lustina. It feeds the dark thoughts in my head.”

“Your scent. Your touch. Your voice. It calls to me like a siren, luring me toward the mysterious abyss. And still, I’ve an insatiable appetite for it. When I think of someone hurting you, or touching you, those thoughts my mother feared claw inside of me.” His fingers curled around her nape as his lips peeled back into a snarl. “I cannot and will not bear the thought of another man laying claim to you. Ever. Earlier, you said that you would never belong to me. But you do. And I belong to you.”

say I am yours.” “Eternally.” “Eternally,”

From this night forward, I am your church. When you are lost, I am your shelter. When you are in pain, I am your elixir.” Gripping her crown, he tipped her head back and stared deeply into her eyes. The intensity of his gaze tickled her stomach. “When you ache for pleasure, I am your mercy.” A look of conviction claimed his expression, as he said, “I will burn down this pathetic world for you. Only you. You are mine, little fledgling. Always.” “Always.”

the birthmark on her inner thigh,

“It was everything. I will never desire another after this night.”

Those eyes. Damn her beautiful, mesmerizing eyes. The speckles of gold, purple, and green that looked like a messy starry collision. The same eyes I’d watched roll back in ecstasy. Eyes I’d become obsessed with.

For reasons I couldn’t explain, I was drawn to her, somehow. Felt an intense pull every time I was near her, one that wouldn’t relent its grip.

“Another one off limits. It’s a wonder you don’t tire of hoarding all the females in this place.”

“Cassiel? What the hell? Why would he show up in her bedroom?”

“She’s a curiosity to me right now and nothing more. But I’ll only warn you once, my friend. Do not touch this one, unless you’ve no longer any use for your fingers.”

“At least tell me if I should be frightened to be alone with you.”

“And yet, I can hear your heart pounding inside your chest. Can sense the racing of your warm pulse. I would venture to say that if I laid so much as a finger on you right now, you’d tremble with my touch.”

“Now go. Do not return to this meadow.” “Okay, fine. If that’s what you wish.” “It is most certainly what I wish.”

Cassiel. What looked to be sadness flickered in his eyes. “What happened to you, my friend?” I whispered, watching his eyes shine with tears. He hissed and snarled, but produced nothing coherent. On a dismal sigh, I stared

“Fallen? You’re saying the creature in the maze was a fallen angel?” His brows pinched together, as if troubled by the question. “Yes.” “What is typical when their wings are cut?” “Illness. Infection. Many die, as they become susceptible to human diseases. But they do not turn into monsters.” “You think someone cursed the creature.”

“I suppose in its most rudimentary form.” “And these souls … you sell them to ...” “The highest bidder. Unfortunately, the heavens tend to be a bit more frugal when it comes to those in Nightshade.”

“Farryn, please, just take the book.” The cold feeling from before iced over with a new rush of shock, the room suddenly too small. “Did …. I didn’t give you my name.” “No, you didn’t.” “Do I know you?” “No, you don’t.”

“Won’t you tell me your name?” Lips pursed, she huffed. “If you insist. My name is Catriona.” “Catriona,” I echoed. “Nice to meet you.”