Page 108 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts
Their final, passionate kiss filled the air with wet sounds and soft moans.
At last, they left. Mikhail and Amelia stepped out of the alcove. The silver threads in her irises gleamed so brightly, they nearly overwhelmed the blue underneath. For a fleeting moment, he considered apologising for his reaction, for what had transpired in the confined space.
Before he could speak, Amelia whispered, “The necklace was around the witch’s neck. I could feel its pull – that’s why I had to look.”
He nodded, schooling his expression. “Then we’ll have totake it off her.”
***
Mikhail
By evening, they spotted her. The crowd had tripled in size, and the atmosphere buzzed with energy, fuelled by lively conversations, music, and dancing. On the far side of the lake, an area was set up for the quiz.
Zara, the witch wearing the necklace, held a cup in her long fingers, her laughter echoing over the festive din as she bantered with a man. For the thirty minutes Mikhail and Amelia had been observing her, she hadn’t once glanced towards Balian. Her blue-black curls tumbled in tight spirals over the plunging neckline of her crimson dress, and above it, the entwined snake heads of the necklace gleamed.
Amelia claimed this wasn’t the woman from her vision – meaning she likely wasn’t the witch responsible for the magical trap.
“Let’s get closer.” Mikhail took Amelia’s arm in his to give the appearance of a couple. He led her through the throng of people, weaving past groups of men and women until they came to a halt close to the witch.
At that moment, Zara cast an impatient glance away from her conversation partner, scanning her surroundings with a bored expression. Her gaze flitted over Mikhail before returning to him with a lingering interest.
He averted his eyes, keen to avoid drawing attention to himself.
“Did you see that?” Amelia whispered.
“See what?”
“She was checking you out,” Amelia said with a feigned smile, making it seem as though their conversation was light-hearted.
“What makes you say that?”
Amelia rolled her eyes. “Please. I know that look when I see it.”
“She’s with Balian.”
“Balian, whoisn’ther husband? Mikhail, I’m a woman – I can tell these things. Don’t turn around, but she’s still watching you.” Amelia rose on her tiptoes and looped her arms around his neck, leaning in to speak into his ear. “Now I’m pretending to say something funny. Laugh.”
Mikhail let out a chuckle.
“Not like that,” she whispered, pressing closer. “That lower, sexier laugh you do.”
Her proximity made it hard for him to breathe. The fact that she could distinguish the different types of his laughter added to his confusion.
When her lips brushed against his ear, a jolt of electricity coursed down his spine. “You know,” she began in an indistinct murmur, “back when I was in Antambazi, they brought Constantine to the throne room one day…”
A pang of worry tightened his chest. His friend’s absence remained unresolved, and they hadn’t had any news from him. If Amelia aimed to amuse him, it wasn’t working.
She carried on, “The Queen ordered him to go to Hell and retrieve Belphegor’s Gloves. He told her he’d do it if she granted him three wishes. First, new clothes; second, a fine room; and third…” Her lips quirked as she paused. “He wanted to sleep with Sevar’s fiancée – Kathrine.”
“Seriously?” Mikhail shook his head, a chuckle breaking free despite himself. That sounded like Constantine.
“He laid out his conditions right in front of Kathrine and Sevar…”
Mikhail burst into laughter this time.
“There we go.” Amelia stepped back with a satisfied smile. “Now the witch is aware you’re with me and wants you even more.”
“Was that the laugh you were after?” he asked.
