Blood Pact (Darkling Mage 7)

“Devil dust is tricky,” Herald said, holding my eyelids open with the tips of his fingers, his face so close to mine that I c

ould feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek. “Any leftover particles and you might even go blind.”

“Seriously?”

“Probably,” he said, shrugging. “I admit, we haven’t fully explored the properties of imp dung.”

My dinner threatened to come jumping up my throat. “Excuse me?”

“The irritant I was talking about? It comes from imp crap. Among the most annoying substances known to man.”

“I think I’m going to vomit.”

Herald squinted. “Next to whiny boyfriends and melodramatic vampires.”

Sterling moaned. “I think there’s still a hole in my chest. Tiny one.”

“Please stop,” Herald said. “Plus I need to save most of my healing for Dust’s burns. His affinity for fire magic gives him some resistance to it, so I don’t anticipate anything serious, but you know. Just in case.”

Herald grabbed my shirt by the lapels and ripped it apart. Buttons flew everywhere, frayed fibers tumbling up in the air. I blushed instantly.

“Oh, Mister Igarashi,” Sterling said, a lascivious grin forming in the corner of his mouth. “You really are very forward.”

“W-wait,” I stammered, my hands fluttering to cover my naked torso. “Is this really necessary?”

“Checking you for burns,” Herald said, his voice flat, clinical. “I need to see you naked.”

“Hmm,” Sterling said, extending his arm over the back of the couch. “Interesting development.”

Herald didn’t even look at him. “Sterling. Get out.”

“I kind of want to stay and watch, to be honest.”

“And take the dog with you.”

“I can even record it if you want. For science.”

“Sterling,” I shouted, desperately slapping Herald’s hands away. “For the love of – get the hell out. You’re a giant pervert.”

“It’s in my job description,” he drawled, ambling over to put Banjo’s leash back around his neck. “Come on, boy. Time to head home and leave these two gross-ass lovebirds alone.”

“No more detours through Heinsite Park,” I said. “Please.”

“No promises,” Sterling said. “See you at the Boneyard. You two don’t play so rough, now.” The door clicked shut behind him.

Herald grinned at me, his eyes twinkling. I gulped.

“No promises,” he said.

Chapter 7

Carver’s eyes bored into me as he listened to the story of the attack in Heinsite Park. And I don’t think I flatter myself when I say that his pupils burned with a quietly contained excitement, with the same brilliant amber of the flames I’d used to blow away the invisible stalker. But I was very careful not to mention anything about the Dark Room – and how the thing had whispered in my ear, how it had known.

“A cloak of fire, you say?” Carver said, speaking over steepled fingers, the rest of his body perfectly still.

“Yes,” I said, uncertain, but hopeful.

“Marvelous. Allow me to say that I am thrilled with what you’ve done with your education, Dustin.”