A Gathering of Shadows (Shades of Magic #2) - V.E. Schwab Page 0,71

secrets out of reach.”

“You have trouble with trust, Delilah Bard.”

“Your powers of observation are astonishing.” She smiled and finished her drink. Her lips tingled and her throat burned. It really was stronger than usual. Lila didn’t usually drink much; she’d spent too many years needing every faculty she had to stay alive. But here, in Alucard Emery’s cabin, she realized something: she wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t running. Sure, it was a balancing act every time they spoke, but she knew how to keep her footing.

Alucard offered her a lazy, inebriated smile. Drunk or sober, he was always smiling. So unlike Kell, who always frowned.

Alucard sighed, and closed his eyes, tipping his head back against the plush chair. He had a nice face, soft and sharp at the same time. She had the strangest urge to reach out and trace the lines of it with her fingers.

Lila really should have killed him, back when they first met. Back before she could know him. Back before she could like him so much.

His eyes drifted open. “Silver and gold for your thoughts,” he said softly, lifting his glass to his lips.

Esa brushed against Lila’s chair, and she twined the cat’s tail around her fingers. “I was just wishing I’d killed you months ago,” she said with easy cheer, relishing the way Alucard nearly choked on his wine.

“Oh, Bard,” he teased, “does that mean you’ve since developed a fondness for me?”

“Fondness is weakness,” she said automatically.

At that, Alucard stopped smiling, and set his glass aside. He leaned forward and considered her for a long moment, and then he said, “I’m sorry.” He sounded so … earnest, which made Lila instantly suspicious. Alucard was many things, but genuine wasn’t usually one of them.

“For growing on me?” she asked.

He shook his head. “For whatever happened to you. For whoever hurt you so deeply that you see things like friends and fondness as weapons instead of shields.” Lila felt the heat rising to her cheeks.

“It’s kept me alive, hasn’t it?”

“Perhaps. But life is pointless without pleasure.”

Lila’s bristled at that, and got to her feet. “Who says I don’t feel pleasure? I feel pleasure when I win a bet. Pleasure when I conjure fire. Pleasure when—”

Alucard cut her off. Not with a word, but with a kiss. He closed the space between them in one single, fluid motion, and then one of his hands was on her arm, the other against the nape of her neck, and his mouth was on hers. Lila didn’t pull away. She told herself after that it was surprise that stopped her, but that might have been a lie. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the warmth of the room. Maybe it was the fear that he was right about her, about pleasure, about life. Maybe, but in that moment all she knew was that Alucard was kissing her, and then she was kissing him back. And then, suddenly, his mouth was gone from hers, his smile floating in front of her face.

“Tell me,” he whispered, “was that better than winning a bet?”

She was breathless. “You make a valid argument.”

“I’d love to press the point,” he said, “but first …” He cleared his throat, and looked down at the knife she had resting against the inside of his leg.

“Reflex,” she said with a smirk, returning the weapon to its sheath.

Neither one of them moved. Their faces were so close, nose to nose, lip to lip, and lash to lash, and all she could see were his eyes, storm blue, and the faint laugh lines that creased their corners, the way Kell’s creased the space between. Opposites. Alucard’s thumb brushed her cheek, and then he kissed her again, and this time there was no attack in the gesture, no surprise, only slow precision. His mouth grazed hers, and as she leaned forward into it, he drew playfully back. Measure for measure, like a dance. He wanted her to want him, wanted to prove himself right—the logical part of her knew all that, but the logical part was getting lost beneath her pounding heart. Bodies were traitorous things, she realized, as Alucard’s lips grazed her jaw, and began to trail down her throat, causing her to shiver.

He must have felt the tremor, because he smiled against her skin, that perfect, serpent-charming smile. Her back arched. His hand was at the base of her spine, pulling her against him as he teased his way along her collarbone. Heat blossomed across her body where his