Dagan came and harvested their hearts. Their souls.”
“She watched you harvest darksouls?” Calliope
looked at Dagan. Her tone was colder than liquid
nitrogen, laced with disbelief. “She saw what you are
and you let her live? You gave her First Blood. Was it
a plot, a ploy—”
EVE SILVER
363
“No. I knew nothing of what you are. I had no idea
you were pranic feeders. No clue you drink blood.” His
smile was mocking. “The Daughters of Aset don’t
exactly advertise what they are. Fuck…Roxy lived as
one of you for ten years and didn’t know what you are.
Maybe Iwasher first, but it was an accident. She bit
me.”
Calliope blinked and shot a glance at Roxy. Surprised. Assessing. “And still you let her live. I don’t believe your words. No soul reaper would let her live.”
“Because you know so much about us?” Dagan
arched a brow. “Believe what you want. I wasn’t sent
that night to harvest her.”
“And if you had been?” Calliope’s eyes narrowed.
“If you had been sent there for her, would you have harvested her soul?”
Roxy’s heart slammed against her ribs. There was
an intensity to Calliope’s words, a hidden meaning. She
was asking something more from Dagan, more than
just the answer to the specific question.
Dagan hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his
jeans, his expression implacable, his eyes flat gray.
Cold now. He didn’t like being put on the spot. Didn’t
want to answer. And then he did.
“No.”