Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine, #1) (21)

“Gane, I’ll be okay.” I lifted a shoulder. “My client isn’t too bad, and he’s the only one I’m seeing.” I refrained from making a face after saying those words.

“Too bad?” Gane sputtered.

The king was as cold as the frigid room he’d left me in the evening prior.

I hadn’t heard from Madam Morin since, nor had I received a sparrow from Florian. After what I’d admitted to him, I half feared I wouldn’t, and that maybe he’d decided, despite whatever he’d wanted from me, I wasn’t worth the trouble.

The other half was terrified of the impossible—that the winter king might actually consider helping me.

It was all I wanted. All I’d dreamed of for endless nights.

And perhaps, I thought as I recalled Florian’s drugging curiosity of me, it would be my doom.

I shivered.

Gane frowned. “Flea, I urge you to speak with the madam and come to another arrangement.”

“What other arrangement could we possibly conjure?” I nearly laughed as I said, “Should I offer to clean the pleasure house instead?”

Actually, that was not such a bad idea.

Gane agreed, his cheeks red with outrage. “Yes. Something exactly like that. The creatures who visit that Lair are not looking to court and befriend you.” He sighed and lowered his voice. “Some might even hurt you.”

Florian’s warning returned.

No one’s intentions for you are more wicked than my own.

“It’s too late. I’m making good coin,” I said, uneasy and desperate to keep it from showing. “Good enough to be free of Madam Morin in no time.” I straightened from where I’d been leaning against his desk. “I know what I’m doing.”

The anger in Gane’s dark eyes was soon replaced with sadness. “Flea, you have no idea what you’re doing. You’ve lived your entire life inside of books and this rotting building, and your naivety will land you in disaster.”

He was likely right, but I had nothing else. All I had was this slowly opening doorway to everything I’d ever wanted.

Even if it might cost me more than I could have ever imagined.





The sparrow came mere hours after I left the library.

In nothing but a towel, I padded across the apartment to where the bird ceaselessly tapped against the kitchen window. It chirped when I pushed open the glass, and as I reached for the note, rubbed its blue-feathered cheek against my finger.

I smiled in wonder as the sparrow took flight, but then quickly collected the tiny roll of parchment before it was lost to the soapy water in the kitchen sink.

The note was the same as the first.

With little else to do besides try and fail to read, I arrived at room twelve an hour before the scheduled meet time of midnight.

I’d dressed simply in a gown of my own. A sky-blue cotton tunic that cinched at the waist and dropped to my ankles. The flowing sleeves gathered at the wrists, and the neckline dipped right above my breasts. It was worn but lovely, and it would do.

Even so, I fidgeted and paced, worrying if I had time to change into something better. Something more seductive. Then I took a seat upon the end of the bed and finger-combed my hair. I hadn’t touched it after washing it.

I wasn’t sure what had possessed me to present myself in such a bland way. Impatience, maybe. Perhaps it was because I’d barely been touched at all during our last meeting after I’d gone to some effort to seduce.

I knew too little of such things, so if I were to be embarrassed again, it would not be because I’d tried to be someone I wasn’t.

Someone I perhaps wanted to one day be.

The air stilled then changed as the king materialized.

Warmth spread throughout the room, followed by blistering cold. More of those small flurries danced and melted upon touching the floor as the king appeared wreathed in fading midnight tendrils of shadow. He wore a tight, long-sleeved black tunic with similar armor-lined pants and matching knee-high boots.

He looked as though he’d just left a battlefield, though not a trace or scent of blood could be detected.

Every impressive inch of his enormous physique was outlined. Every inch of him dangerous in a way I’d already known but had perhaps failed to wholly realize.

Amusement sparked within his eyes as he surveyed my expression.

I closed my mouth and averted my gaze to my bare feet. I’d kicked my slippers off before perching upon the end of the bed.

“No curtsy this time?” Panic had me ready to spring to my feet until the king said, “Don’t bother. I like you where you are.” Three long strides brought him within touching distance, and touch he did. He tipped up my chin until I met his eyes with mine. “Ready and waiting for me.”

I blinked, without words.

His lips parted as he stared. “I dreamed of you,” he murmured as if unwillingly. “It has been a long time since I’ve dreamed of anything.”

“Truly?” I heard myself ask. I couldn’t imagine merely sleeping when dreams were all that had kept me floating from one day to the next.

“Well...” His luscious mouth tilted. “Not of anything sweet, at least.”

His admission created a strange twinge within my chest. “I’ve thought of you,” I said, thinking it only fair to give him something in return.