A Shadow in the Ember (Flesh and Fire 1)

“With the exception of the one bone,” he interjected, and it sounded like he smiled.

“Yes, with that exception.”

He was quiet for a long moment, and I could feel his stare, even though I couldn’t see it. “Let me ask you the same question. Why do you care? Did you know them?”

I crossed my arms once more. “Why do I care? Besides the fact that they killed a babe?”

He nodded.

“I didn’t know them.” Blowing out a breath, I looked around the study, seeing books that would likely never be read again, and knick-knacks whose value would no longer be appreciated. “When a god kills a mortal, it’s because of some offense,” I started. That was the tricky thing about the gods. They decided what warranted consequence, what was an offense, what was punishable, and what the punishment would be. “And you all like to make an…example out of such things.”

His head inclined. “Some do.”

“The act is to send a message to others. What the offense was is clearly known,” I continued. “Gods don’t kill in the middle of the night, take the body, and leave nothing behind. It’s almost as if they didn’t want this to be known. And that is, well, not normal.”

“You’d be correct.” He drew a finger along the edge of the desk as he walked, the silent slide of his fingertip catching my attention. “That is why I am so interested. This isn’t the first time they’ve killed like this.”

I dragged my gaze from his hand. “It isn’t?”

He shook his head. “In the last month, they’ve killed at least four others like this. They took some of the bodies with them, and a rare few were left behind. But with not a single clue as to why.”

I racked my brain to see if I remembered hearing anything about any mysterious disappearances or strange deaths, but I hadn’t.

“Now we’re at seven mortals.” He drew his finger up the glass globe of the lamp. “Most were in their second and third decades of life. Two females. Four males. And the babe. As far as I know, they have never killed one as young as the child tonight. The only thing they had in common was that they were all from Lasania,” he said, curling his finger around the beaded chain. With a click, he extinguished the lamp, returning the chamber to the moonlight. “One of them was someone most would consider…a friend.”

I hadn’t expected that. It wasn’t that gods couldn’t make friends with mortals. Some had even fallen in love with them. Not many, though. Most had simply fallen into lust, but friendships could be formed.

“You’re surprised,” he noted.

I frowned, wondering exactly what had revealed that. “I guess it surprises me that gods can be bothered by the death of a mortal when they will outlive us no matter what. I know that’s wrong,” I quickly added. “A murdered friend who happens to be mortal is still a…friend.”

“Yes.”

And it had to be hard to lose one. I didn’t have many friends. Well, come to think of it, if I didn’t count Ezra and Sir Holland, then I didn’t have any friends. Still, I imagined losing a friend would be a lot like losing a part of yourself. I felt the emptiness begin to leave me with an aching pierce to my chest. I didn’t try to bring it back. There was no reason to at this moment. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

In the blink of an eye, he’d rounded the desk and was only a handful of feet from me. The urge to step back hit me at the same moment the desire to step forward did. I remained where I was, refusing to do either.

“As am I,” he said after a moment.

I searched the shadows gathered inside his hood, unable to make out even a single feature. “But you…you knew exactly what they were doing. That’s why you followed them. Why didn’t you stop them?”

“They got here before me.” That finger of his had returned to the desk, trailing along the corner. “By the time I found them, it was already too late. I had planned to capture at least one of them. You know, to chat. But, alas, my plans changed.”

My heart turned over heavily as I craned my neck to look up at him. “As I said before, I didn’t ask you to step in.” I glanced at his hand, at the long finger gliding over the smooth surface of the desk. “You chose to change your plans.”

“I guess I did.” He dipped his head, and I wondered exactly how much of my features he could see now. A shivery awareness danced over my skin. I wondered if he would— “To be honest, I find myself quite annoyed with that decision. If I had allowed you to continue on your merry way, it would’ve most certainly ended with your death, but I would’ve accomplished what I set out to do.”