She stared straight ahead, afraid that if she met his eyes, she would lose her nerve and ask him to leave. Everything about this conversation was taboo. “The demon, you mean?”
“Yes, of course, though it’s more than that.” He leaned closer, his mouth just inches from her ear. She inhaled sharply at the sheer brazenness, noticing absently that Everard seemed to have no scent whatsoever.
“This invention will be near impossible,” he whispered, his breath tickling the loose strands of her hair. “Many have tried in the past and failed. I know what you’re thinking, Miss Blake. Why come to you, when men with far more experience and education have failed time and time again?”
At that, Aurelie bristled. Yes, she was young, but she’d been working for over a decade. She squeezed her hands into fists, prepared to defend herself, but Everard pressed on.
“But the truth is, Miss Blake, it is your youth, your innovation, your potential that have convinced me thatyouare the person I’ve been seeking. Should it work, should you prove yourself up to the task, my dear...” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You will be ushering in a new world. One where invention is welcomed, not feared.”
Her eyes flew open as she turned to face him. “What?”
“That’s right,” he murmured. “A world where you can invent freely, for all to see. Imagine the opportunities for a young woman like you. Imagine the future you could choose for yourself,byyourself.”
Aurelie’s cheeks burned. She felt as though this stranger was peering directly into her soul and laying bare her secret desires for all to see. “How do you—”
He held a finger to his lips. “No more questions. Not here.” He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, his gaze never leaving hers. She suddenly understood why a rabbit froze when it fell under a predator’s glare; she could scarcely breathe, let alone move.
“Everything you need to know is written here.” He set the paper on the table between them. “When you’ve had a chance to look it over, you can contact me at this address.” He held up a business card and waited for her to take it, his long fingers brushing against hers as he pulled away. They were cold as ice.
“I hope it goes without saying, but don’t speak with anyone about this. Even our dear friend Morel. If you decide against it, there’s no need to contact me. I’ll assume you’re uninterested if I haven’t heard from you in a week. But, if you are willing to help me, I am prepared to offer you a hefty sum.”
He rose then, and Aurelie felt compelled to stand, even though her body felt numb from the waist down. Everard began to walk to the front door, and she trailed him like a puppy, his business card still clutched in her hand. Before she could formulate a response, he was donning his coat and hat.
“What about your dinner?” she asked inanely.
“Alas, I’m afraid I have another appointment I must get to. I do hope I’ll be hearing from you shortly.” He reached for the door handle himself, as no servants had materialized. “Remember, discuss this with no one, Miss Blake.” He flashed that incongruous smile again, flooding Aurelie with a reassuring warmth despite his warning. “After all, not everyone is a visionary like you.”
Chapter 5
Des
Des had been standing outside the Wisteria University gates for over an hour when the tall man in the black coat finally emerged. Des had followed him here all the way from the other side of the city. Or rather, he had followed a demon here, who’d been trailing the man all evening like a shadow.
Gareth had stood shivering beside him, clearly worried the demon—which had disappeared as soon as the man entered the iron gates—might return. Des had been more focused on the person the man had apparently come to meet: a young woman who had invited the man inside. But as far as Des knew, there weren’t any classes over the weekend, and he couldn’t understand why she was there in the first place.
When they disappeared into the dean’s cottage, her presence began to make sense. He knew of Dr. Blake by reputation; occasionally, the man made visits to the Iron Fortress to extoll the virtues of higher education to the guards, who could choose to leave their service when they turned eighteen. Few did, of course; higher education, for all its supposed glories, didn’t pay. Demon hunting did.
Des thought he remembered hearing something about the dean having a niece. He assumed they must be dining together with her uncle. But then the man emerged far too quickly to have eaten, and Des knew then that he was right to have lingered. The guard letthe man out through the pedestrian gate, and only moments later, the demon they’d been hunting previously materialized.
It was a true demon, averita, the worst kind because it was intentional. People couldn’t control what their subconscious mind did while asleep, and even King Aciano hadn’t attempted to outlaw procreation.Verita, on the other hand, came from willful disobedience of the law. A personchoseto compose a new piece of music, or paint a picture, or devise a new solution to a commonplace problem, and a demon was inevitably born.
Des would never be able to understand the selfishness of such people. It was why he was determined to put an end toveritaentirely. He couldn’t eradicate all demons, not so long as they were linked to creation. But he could prevent as many children from being orphaned by demons as possible. He’d tracked down three men in the past year for illegal inventing, though tying them to theirveritawas not easy. One had gotten off on a technicality, but the other two were in prison where they belonged.
Thoseveritahad escaped their creators in search of prey, but this demon didn’t appear to be hunting. When the man stopped and the demon caught up, Des’s muscles tensed in preparation for the attack he knew was coming—but instead, the man leaned down and spoke. A moment later, the demon trotted off in another direction.
Every hair on Des’s body stood at attention. This demon hadn’t been tracking the tall man at all. It was his thrall. Des had never seen one before—hadn’t even been sure they existed—but there was no other explanation for what he’d just witnessed. Demons didn’t leave prey. And they certainly didn’t take orders. Gareth’s mouth hung open in disbelief.
Des turned his gaze back to the dean’s cottage, wondering what on earth Dean Blake’s niece was doing with a man who consorted with demons.
Des stood ramrod straight before Commander Yew, who was the epitome of what the Iron Guard stood for. His thick salt-and-pepper hair was always kept impossibly short, and his armor fit like a second skin. Even the jagged scar through his left eyebrow looked as though it belonged there, a reminder to everyone he encountered exactly how dangerous it was to be a demon hunter, one who always came out on top.
“Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Whitlow. I’ll go to the university tomorrow to speak with Miss Blake.”
Des cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should wait, sir. We don’t know yet if she was deliberately socializing with a consorter. If so, tipping her off might give this man an opportunity to escape.”
Commander Yew’s hallmark scowl deepened. “Dean Blake is an upstanding member of Wisterian society. I sincerely doubt that sweet, sheltered girl would do such a thing.”
“I understand, sir,” Des replied, not wanting to malign a family Commander Yew clearly respected.