Page 56 of A Reckless Indulgence

His body is warm beside her. She would barely have to move to touch him. If she shifted closer and stretched her fingers, she could feel him under her like the night before. She could reach out and find him waiting there.

But that is not a thought she should entertain. She isn’t here for him. She is here to ruin whatever peace he has. Maybe that’s why her mouth gets so reckless. Who cares what she says? In a few days, none of this will matter. She’ll have her song, and she’ll be on her own again.

“I want to watch you work.” When she meets his eyes, her stomach clenches. His gaze is so potent that she has to brace against the railing. “I want to see what it could be like. If someone let themself be captivated by you.”

Their bodies are closer now, unable to resist whatever force pulls them together. This is dangerous territory. She’s saying things she shouldn’t, but her mind refuses the consequences. She won’t be here for the aftermath. Chaos spills into her, but it’s not as good as the way he looks at her.

When he speaks, she sees fire crackling in the back of his throat. “If you will it.”

TWENTY-TWO

Lyx

It’s like Cav is slipping into a different skin, the muscles in his back shifting as he sways through the crowd. There’s something luminous about him. Even in the midst of distress, a wave of heads follows him. It’s almost like he’s the siren with a silent song to lure everyone toward him.

He sets his sights on a newcomer with hawkish features and brilliant green plumage. It’s no surprise the guest is immediately hooked. Cav’s smile is lazy, face softening with heat, and Lyx feels a pang of recognition. It’s almost like the way Cav looks at her, if not quite the same. When Cav works, there’s a wall behind his gaze, a practiced flow to his motions and a mask thin enough to separate him from his audience.

With Lyx, there’s none of that.

That doesn’t make it any less powerful. She’s suddenly aware of the lack of him. Her ears ring without his rambling voice, and the air cools, like a cloud has passed over the sunny spot she was basking in. But it’s night. There is no sun or warmth or light; there’s only Cav’s attention.

Even as he gives it to someone else, she knows she’s in the corner of his eye. He keeps his body angled so that she can always see his face. She takes in the line of his jaw when he speaks, the curve of his lip when he smiles, the duck of his head when he leans in to listen.

Has no one ever done anything just to see you enjoy it?

It burns inside her the same way slapping him did. It wasn’t the action itself that got to her; it was everything else. The certainty with which he read her, the complete submission, the wild look in his eyes growing with the more pain she inflicted.

It’s in her nature to destroy, but never has someone enjoyed it. Never has someone asked for more. Never has there been a balance. Her victims always went down too easily or not at all, but Cav hangs in perfect equilibrium.

Someone knocks into her elbow. “Sorry,” Colt mutters, jostling an armful of glass jars filled with clippings. “Excuse me.” He continues through the crowd, his head bobbing down the stairs and descending below deck.

It’s exactly what she’s been looking for, but her feet don’t follow right away. She’s drawn back to Cav. He shines in the middle of the crowd, holding the back of one guest’s head while he pours a drink into their mouth. The others cheer. When the creature stands up again, Lyx can practically see the hearts in their eyes.

What if she stayed here? It surprises her that she wasn’t lying when she spoke to Cav. She does want to watch him work. She wants to watch him doing anything, but she has a job to do. Tidus’s patience is wearing thin.

Tearing her eyes from Cav, she squeezes through the crew and down the stairs. Fortunately, the hatchway is empty. Sounds fall away as she slinks deeper into the ship, hurrying past the sleeping cabins to find Colt. The light from his lantern shows he’s already halfway down the length of the ship, turning behind a stack of barrels and disappearing from sight.

Lyx ducks under beams to weave her way after him, but there’s no sign of Colt, only curving stairs and echoing footsteps descending deeper. When she takes the first step, the boards creak under her. She freezes, but Colt’s footfalls continue to fade away.

With one hand on the railing, Lyx follows the spiral. If someone comes down after her, if they round the corner, she’ll be caught. Her pulse throbs in her ears. She holds her breath until she reaches the bottom.

A dank, musty scent hits her nose. There’s only one lantern hanging on the wall, shedding only enough light that she can make out shelves and crates throughout the open space. She’s been here before during her searches, inspecting sacks of beans and bags of salt to no avail.

She cranes her neck out of the staircase. Colt is nowhere in sight. Carefully, she steps down to the floor and picks her way through the supplies. Some of them have been used since she was last here, but that’s not surprising. She walks the length of the room, scanning for something she must have missed. There is no other set of stairs, no doors along the wall, nowhere Colt could have reached before she followed him.

Where could he have gone?

Something shatters behind her. She whips toward the sound, ducking behind a nearby shelf. A muffled voice curses, but she can’t see anyone. Footsteps grow louder, and she waits for someone to appear on the stairs, but instead, the wall next to them swings open.

Colt exits, taking the curved stairs two at a time toward the floor above. The door he’d come through swings shut. Lyx feels along the wall to make her way back and slams her shin against a crate. She bites her tongue, but she has to hurry. Who knows how long Colt will be gone?

Back at the staircase, she nearly misses the hidden room again. It’s tucked beneath the stairs, made of the same timber as the walls. There is no handle, only a tiny keyhole blended into the knot of the wood. Silently, she approaches, pressing her palm to the door and easing it open.

The bright light makes her squint. Another set of stairs leads down into a room full of lanterns, the ceiling so low that it blocks most of her sightline. From this angle, all she can really see is the nearest corner.

She sinks down to see more of the room. Shelves line the walls, full of glass jars holding their collections from the deck. Across the room is a square hole in the wall framing a rope that reaches up into the ship. When the ship rocks, a pile of shattered glass on the floor shifts closer to the table at the center.

A tattooed arm reaches across it. Lyx chokes on a gasp, but Cypher keeps her back to the door and bends over the workspace. Past Cypher’s body, she can make out assorted metal instruments scattered across the table. Next to them is a singular glass jar and something else sitting directly in front of Cypher.