her hand sliding beneath his silken dressing robe to stroke the flesh too long denied to her, and he groaned again. The feel of his skin, the smooth dip in his lower back. A window opened in her mind. She was holding him. There were no scars rippling over his back, no mangled flesh, only smooth, cool skin. Only Archer. Archer’s bare hands on her, the hard plane of his cheek, the gentle press of his brow against hers. Unmasked. It was unforgivable to do it but she had to know. But then he would know. He would know her secret—and what would he say?
Anger surged over her skin, hot and sure. Toward him. And herself. Would she be any different than he if she hid her secret? His large palm slid up to cover her breast in possession. No, she would not. There would be no more secrets between them. The decision barely settled in her mind before the familiar burn leapt free of her skin.
Light blazed all at once, the sconces and hearth flaring to life in an instant. Miranda’s eyes squeezed tight against the blinding brilliance as a mighty roar of outrage rang in her ears.
He leapt as though burned, flinging the coverlet over her in one swift move. Still half-blind from the sudden light, she struggled with the covers, kicking them back and swinging her tangled legs free. Black spots danced before her eyes as she righted herself. She blinked again, and the room drew into focus. He was gone. She gazed around in a panic and caught a sudden movement. In the farthest corner of the room, between the curtained window and the large wardrobe, he pressed deep into the shadows like a frightened animal.
And she stalked him as such, coming as near as she dared. With his back to the corner, his hands flat against the walls, he stiffened as she drew close.
Miranda’s steps slowed as she gazed up at the man she called her husband. He could only gaze back, his eyes wide and slightly panicked. They stared at each other for a moment before his eyes drifted downward to her breasts. The line of his throat convulsed. Hastily, she drew the edges of her bodice together and tied it.
“Thank you.” The familiar sound of his warm, rich voice made her twitch. “After tasting such delights, the sight of your lovely breasts at this moment just might do me in.”
She could only gape at him.
“How did you do it?” Soft gray eyes moved over her and then away. “The lamps?”
“I—I… it is complicated.” How could it be? She stared, unable to comprehend what she saw.
“Your cheese and toast solution?”
She stepped forward, and he took a sharp breath, his fine nostrils flaring. “Archer, please… don’t jest with me.”
“What am I to do?” he whispered. “Any moment now, you’ll come to your senses and order me from your room.” Agony broke over his face. “And I will not be able to bear it.”
He was right to fear. The irrational part of her wanted to scream in confusion. She had expected scars, horrible burns perhaps—or maybe disfigurement. But the man before her was smooth. Smooth yet damaged all the same. The whole of his right side was altered somehow. It was as though half of his body had turned into living ice. His flesh was clear, nearly translucent, like quartz. The hair on the right side of his head was silver. He wore it shorn close to his head, short silvery hairs meeting with black. Half man, half statue. The oddity of seeing healthy golden flesh merge with clear marble in a jagged line down the center of his body seemed unreal, as if a dream.
“What has happened to you?”
“Lux Daemon,” he said with a wince. “Light Demon. Or, if you want to use the more apropos term, Anima Comedentis, a Soul Eater. That is what I am becoming. I drank an elixir, the liquid form of the demon, actually. At the time, we thought it a cure, a vaccination that would make man immune from disease. Fools. It has preserved my body while it slowly transforms me into a monster. A thing that feeds off the light of souls, craves that light more than air.”
“You’re… possessed?” she asked through cold lips.
“This demon, it isn’t a higher being of intelligence with thoughts such as ours, more like a virus. It infects the host and changes it to suit its purposes.” He raked his fingers through his