were buzzing almost continually, trying to warn her about all the sudden movement. About the walls, the furniture, and a servant standing in the wings, watching them dance.
The song continued. She was twirled, spun, twisted, and she wouldn’t put it past him to try to throw her up in the air. She was glad he didn’t. The song finished, and she was out of breath from laughing so hard. He kissed her cheek, and she felt the grin that was plastered on his face. “That was awful, and I never want to do it again,” she complained. But it was just her being indignant. She was smiling.
“Uh-uh. You whined about going to bed with me, too, y’know.” His hand slid down to her ass and grabbed one half and squeezed it hard.
She squawked and slapped his chest. “Not here—the others—”
“Pah. Nobody’s here. It’s just us. I gave them the night off.”
Nobody’s here?
She furrowed her brow. She blinked and patted his chest. “I need a drink of water.”
“Sure.”
She slipped out of his arms and walked back to the table, taking a bit of an odd route.
Table, wall, column, chair…person. Her bracers vibrated in a particular way when they sensed a human or a living creature. Something about the density of the object.
They weren’t alone. Someone was behind a curtain by the window. Her bracer could sense them through the sheer fabric. They were just standing there. Waiting.
She shivered, fear crawling up her skin. “Tell me about the assassins you think are after you, Nero.” She went for the table finally and poured herself a glass of water. She secreted a knife from the table when she did it, tucking it into the sash around her waist. “How do they get in?”
“Some of them might sneak in, trying to pretend to be a servant. They can’t do that with me, though. I know everybody by name. I don’t let anybody else hire or buy anyone. But that doesn’t stop them from coming in through the windows or doors. It’s a villa. I hardly live in a tower vault like Viktor.”
“Huh.” She walked back to him. She kept her expression calm. She kept her movements normal. She reached up and tugged him down to kiss her. She turned him so his back was to the person behind the curtain and pulled his hand up to brush along her belt and the steak knife she had put there.
He twitched in surprise. She held him firmly in the kiss before trailing her lips to his ear. “We aren’t alone,” she whispered. “Behind the curtain.”
He pulled the knife from her belt. Instantly, he went tense. He caught her jaw in his hand and kissed her roughly, either covering for his change in body language or just because he wanted to.
Nero left her then.
There was a crash. Shouting. More crashing. She staggered to the wall, pressing herself against the marble.
The sound of a thump. It was a meaty sound, like a fist on flesh. Another one. And another one. Then the sound became wet. Like someone bursting open a melon.
She covered her mouth and tried not to scream. She was shaking like a leaf.
Grunting. More thumping. More wet sounds of something breaking open. Or like someone butchering a pig.
Silence.
Someone was walking toward her. She jolted and panicked. She went to run, but whoever it was caught her by the shoulders and roughly slammed her to the wall. Without thinking—only reacting on instinct—she swung her hand out and impacted the face of whoever it was in front of her.
Smack.
A low, angry growl was her reply. “Thirteen.”
It was Nero. Oh, gods above—it was Nero! She almost wept in relief. “I didn’t know it was you! I thought you—I thought you were—”
He pinned her to the wall, and suddenly he was devouring her lips with his, grasping her head in both his hands to hold it still as he took everything she had to give.
He tasted of blood.
When he finally let her breathe, she was gasping for air. “Are—are—you hurt?”
“Split lip. The rest of the blood isn’t mine.” He was still angry. “I looked up and saw you here, shaking in fear, while I beat that cretin’s head open with my bare hands…and I wanted you so badly. Gods, it felt so good to kill him while you were standing there.” He ground his body into hers, and she whimpered at the feeling of him there, straining for attention.
“Nero—"
“Ssh.” He kissed her throat, and she felt him grin. There was