Page 89 of Hell Fae Captive
“I think things are about to change, A,” Shade mused softly. “It just depends what path you choose.” He glanced back at the table. “I suggest using that stone. But we’ll see what you do.”
I frowned at him. “Riddles?”
He shrugged and took another sip of his wine before setting it aside. “Just advice.” His icy gaze met mine, a hint of emotion lurking in his expression. An emotion I couldn’t quite define. “I look forward to our next wine date,” he told me. “Hopefully without the snakes.”
He stood, causing me to gape at him. “That’s it? Stop by with some cookies and a death stone, lay some riddles at my feet, and leave?”
“You’re not ready to talk to me yet,” he replied, meeting my gaze with a hint of amusement in his eyes. “And that’s fine. But we’ll meet again soon.” He cocked his head. “Try not to bite her without permission. If I learned anything from my queen, it’s that females don’t particularly enjoy having their choices taken from them.”
“Bite who?”
“I think we both know the answer to that,” he replied with a coy grin.
Then the bastard disappeared in a puff of dark smoke that had the snake-vines hissing again outside my door.
I sighed and shook my head. “Cryptic jackass.”
He always did shit like this, dropping by with a few random riddles and fucking off again.
But I couldn’t quite keep the smile from forming on my lips.
Because something about that brought back pleasant memories of when he’d done this to others in our past.
He’d done it to me, too. Creating games I used to love to play.
I just wasn’t sure I had the energy to engage in this new puzzle.
Not with Camillia on my mind.
Camillia. I reached for the remote, but the screen flickered back to life without me having to touch it.
Definitely watching me, I thought, glancing around.Or at least a supervision spell of some kind.
Lucifer would probably ask me about Shade’s visit later.
Running a hand over my face, I sighed, then brought the wine back to my lips.
Only to frown at the darkness in front of me.
What am I looking at?Everything was pitch black, but the numbers were still displayed on the screen, so the device was definitely on.
I swapped the glass for the remote, searching for another candidate’s number. The girl was running toward the border crossing, her jaw set in a determined line.
“That’s not what it looks like,” I said to the screen.
Something she realized the second she crossed the border.
Causing the screen to go black once more.
My teeth clenched as I went back to Camillia’s number.Dark.
I found another candidate, still alive and running. Selected several more, noting that only a handful of them were black. Then I went back to the girl who had crossed the boundary—still dark.
Just like Camillia.
Fuck. I jumped to my feet. “Fuck.”
That could only mean one thing.
