The Deepest Well by Juliette Cross

Author:Juliette Cross
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: angels;demons;demon hunters;London;1800s;19th century
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2016-02-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Sleep would not come that night. George didn’t even try. Around midnight, a steady rain began to pour. No thunder. No lightning. Only rain—relentless and serene. He needed a drink to take off the edge, but he refused to indulge even in that. He wanted to be lucid and alone with his thoughts.

After the charade of a game to entertain his guests, when the real motive was to find Katherine alone and divulge the hard truth of his past, he had retired to his bedroom, exhausted. Dressed only in his drawers, he remained fixed by the window, listening to the torrential downpour and the fire hissing in the grate.

There were many things left unsaid at the gazebo. If she chose to be with him, there would be time to explain the details he’d had no time to tell her then. Like the sudden lightning storm that erupted when he fought the three demon lords by the pond. He did not want to frighten her further by explaining that this sort of phenomena occurred only when Flamma of great power battled one another. The energy coursing through their bodies clashed when they came in conflict and stirred the earth’s elements. Great storms with flashing and thundering skies hid the battles between heavenly and demonic hosts. Humans found cover when a dangerous storm approached. Often, it was a sign that something more dangerous was coming. But tonight, there was nothing but quiet rain pouring down. A stillness that eased his mind.

A soft sound behind him—his door opening and closing with a snick. He didn’t need to turn to know who had entered his bedroom. Her dress whooshed gently as she walked closer. Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“I have considered what you said. And what you have offered.”

Katherine paused, giving George enough time to worry that she had only come to reject him. He continued watching the rain.

“Surely you understand that what you ask of me would make me a pariah of society.” She drew closer. George could feel her. “But I do not care what society thinks anymore. If my father were alive, he certainly would. But if he were alive, I would not be married to Clyde, and I would be free to marry you properly…in the eyes of the world.”

George finally turned, his breath catching at the sight of her. She was not wearing a dress at all, but what appeared to be her chemise and a white, lace-trimmed wrap. Her intentions in coming to his room were clear. He wished he’d had that drink after all. He waited patiently, watching her, sculpted in golden firelight and shadows—lovely, courageous and afraid.

“So what I’m saying is…is that I accept your offer.” She licked her lips and shifted from one foot to the other. “That I…I have never felt the way I feel when I’m with you. And that I don’t want to pretend any longer that I am happy in the house of masks and charades that is my life.

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