“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Legion.
“You’re right,” said Kas. “It makes much more sense to see who can hunt down the magic crown from a dead witch first.”
“Hey.” I shrugged. “I didn’t make the rules.”
Just as I finished my sentence, something caught my eye in the rain.
I let out a long breath, annoyed to see a demon in a navy blue uniform lurking outside. With his milky white skin and long black hair—wet in the rain—he looked like he’d been raised by the dead. “One of Orion’s soldiers is spying on us.”
“Not a very good spy,” said Legion, “if he’s hovering right there in the window like a Peeping Tom.”
The creepy man disappeared, and a moment later, a knock sounded at the door.
Bare-chested, Kas pulled open the door and lifted his chin. “Can I help you?”
The man’s dark eyes slid to me, and he nodded curtly. “The king requests the shadow scion’s presence this evening at a memorial service for the Lilu dead. It begins in the Asmodean Ward by the clock tower.”
Of course Orion had sent someone to follow me here, no doubt trying to learn what I was doing, in order to gain an advantage.
Kas leaned against his door frame, and his blanket slid off him. “Sorry, who are you?”
“Jasper. Loyal servant to the king.” He cut me a sharp look. “May the true king reign until the sun consumes the earth with its flames.”
“Okay,” said Kas. “Thanks for…that.” He shifted from the doorframe and slammed the door. “Weirdo,” he muttered.
I met Shai’s gaze. Did Orion really want me there to remember the dead, or did he have something up his sleeve?
*
At my seaside palace, I’d selected a long black dress with capped sleeves.
As I’d arrived in the square just before six, some of Orion’s servants had handed out little silver model ships with a candle in the hull. Each one had a handle so we could carry them along. I didn’t know what the ships were for, but I held mine now in the hushed silence as a crowd gathered around the old clock tower. Overhead, the setting sun stained the sky with crimson.
This must be the first time the Asmodean square had been filled in hundreds of years.
As I looked around me, I felt like Orion was as remote as a star. An adoring crowd gathered around him. Jasper was right by Orion’s side, looking tense, his jaw clenched. He reminded me of a guard dog. Orion, on the other hand, looked perfectly at ease, his beautiful face gilded by the dying sun. Taller than most of the other demons, he leaned down to speak to anyone who approached. All around him, a sea of candles flickered and bobbed in the silver ships.
I was quickly starting to get the impression that apart from my little crew, everyone favored Orion.
I held up my model ship, studying it. For something that looked metallic, it was surprisingly light, and its surface was etched with Demonic words. “These things are beautiful.”
Kas leaned closer to me, whispering, “Once, this was how the Lilu mourned. They were creatures of the night and sea. The memorials were called challariu. It meant…” His eyebrows drew together. “To be called home. The gods called them home when they died.” Kas held my gaze for longer than seemed normal, his amber eyes studying me. He reached up and brushed a flyaway strand of my red hair from my face. “The candles are supposed to light their way to the underworld. It’s a path from this world to the next.”
I pulled my gaze away from him to find that King Orion was no longer paying attention to the other people in his orbit. Now, his eyes were drilling into Kas, his jaw tensing. The look he was giving Kas sent a chill through my blood.
Orion stalked closer, his eyes locked on my new friend. “I will be escorting the shadow scion. You may find someone else to amuse you.”
Rude. I thought I caught a hint of an eye roll from Kas before he stalked away.
“Let’s walk to the river,” Orion said gruffly. “I know a shortcut. We need to talk. Away from everyone.”
He led me toward a narrow street carved between two stone buildings. I should feel nervous that my bloodthirsty rival was leading me into an isolated alley, but I just never felt scared around Orion. This close to him, I breathed in the scent of burnt cedar, heady and masculine. Fuck. I’d forgotten how good he smelled, and I was very much trying not to stare at the broadness of his shoulders or think of the dark shirt stretching over his ridiculously large muscles.
As we walked, I glanced behind us. “Are we going to talk about the spies you have following me?”