“Have you ever been inside?”

He stared at the painting. “No.”

So much for that conversation. It obviously had some meaning to him, but—of course—he wasn’t up for sharing.

“Okay,” she said. “I don’t suppose you have an extra toothbrush?”

He walked over to a small table by the window, set with a pewter cup and pitcher. “Another thing you don’t remember from Maremount.” He poured a pale green liquid into the cup, handing it to her. “Charmed sage water. All you need to do is drink it.”

She took a sip, rolling the clean taste around on her tongue. He pulled the cup from her, sipping from it before setting it down. “Don’t worry about our attack on the Brotherhood. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“What if you can’t control it?”

“Don’t say that. It’s not a good idea to dwell on your worst fears right before you sleep.”

“That’s not my worst fear. I don’t want to to die, but my worst fear—”

He stepped closer, touching a finger to her lips. “Not before you sleep. You’ll have bad dreams. I’m a priest of the night god. I know these things.” He lowered his hand, studying her. “And anyway—if you solidify your worst fears in your mind, they can be used against you. Some demons are just as awful as the Brotherhood have said.”

She took in his smooth skin, and the lean, muscular physique molded by years of leading Ambrose’s army. It was no wonder women lost their minds over him. Part of her wanted the release he could give her—the quieting of her raging thoughts, a short respite from her most disturbing memories. She wanted to feel his calming aura flood her body, and more than that, she wanted to feel his perfect mouth on her skin.

But getting involved with an incubus was a terrible idea, and he’d just said it himself: he wasn’t her friend. He was only working with her because it was what Ambrose wanted, and because it served Nyxobas’s goals. If she started to think of him in any other way, she’d only turn into another one of his jealous maniacs.

And more than that, she could never forget the darkness lurking inside him. Even if she’d changed her mind about the sharp divisions between good and evil, demons were fundamentally different from humans. A part of any demon’s mind would always see humans as toys to manipulate and use.

“Get some sleep.” As he walked to the door, he whispered a spell, and the curtains closed, shrouding the room in darkness. He gently closed the door behind him.

She crossed to the bed, pulling off her boots. She still wanted to know who Miranda was. Caine’s girlfriend, probably.

She slipped out of her pants, leaving them in a crumpled pile on his floor. No point mulling it over now. She was a warrior, and had a job to do.

She slid into his bedsheets, pulling the duvet tight around her shoulders.