Page 70 of Forging Darkness
“Oh.”
The wind tunnels in and out of the silence hanging between us.
I hear movement and watch Thorne come to stand from the corner of my eye. Staying where he is, he rests his elbows on the ledge behind him.
“My intention is simply get to know each other better. I’d like to believe if my focus was seduction, I’d be able to come up with something more original than a moonlit picnic.”
I force myself to turn my head so I can measure Thorne’s sincerity. He looks properly contrite, but he could just be a good actor.
“How can I put you at ease and convince you of my sincerity?”
I have an opening here I can take advantage of. “Answer any questions I have, honestly and without evasion.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. The skin on his exposed forearms isn’t even pebbled, despite the subzero temperatures of late December in the Canadian mountains.
“Only if you agree to the same terms.”
He won’t know if I’m lying. But by the same logic, I won’t know if he is either. Sorting through half-truths and white lies will be better than nothing. Knowledge is a currency I need to horde if I’m to survive this ordeal.
“Agreed.”
“Then please, sit. I promise to keep several feet of distance between us at all times.” He’s joking, but also not.
Feeling only marginally more comfortable, I walk to the opposite side of the furs and sink to my knees, delighted to find that this spot is protected from the wind. I start to re-heat immediately. The lantern between us also seems to be giving off some warmth.
Only when I’ve settled does Thorne finally return to his spot on the far side of me. We munch on the food in silence as we both stare up at the stars above—tiny pinpricks of light in a black-washed sky. In the spectrum world, the stars twinkle with a reddish glow.
I’m strategizing which information is most important to push for and how to go about it when Thorne breaks the silence.
“When I was young, I used to think the stars were angels, high in the sky, burning radiance for the world to see. I was crushed to find out they were burning balls of gas rather than beings watching over me through the night.” He chuckles softly, but I pick up the note of sadness in his voice.
“Why am I here?”
It’s a simple question, but I’d wager the answer isn’t. Thorne has gone to an awful lot of trouble for me. I want to know why.
He finishes chewing the grape he popped into his mouth and swallows. Heaving a sigh, he rubs his forehead before tipping his face in my direction.
“You had to start with a hard one, didn’t you? You couldn’t have just asked my favorite color?”
“I already know what that is . . . white.”
“Touché. But for the record, it’s viridian. It’s a dark shade of spring green. Between true green and teal.”
“Pfft. I know what viridian is.” Liar liar pants on fire. I’d never heard that word before in my life.
As if sensing my fib and finding it amusing, he grins.
I clear my throat. “So, back to my question.”
His grin falls. “Right.” He searches my face, but I don’t know what he’s looking for. “My people have known about you almost from birth. They searched for you for many years and when their efforts provided no useful information, they eventually waned. When I learned of your existence—that there was another seraph angel-born child—I renewed the search for you. It was just bad luck that I only got a pin-point on you at the same time you were taken by the Nephilim and brought to Seraph Academy.”
“But . . . how did you possibly know about me when none of the Nephilim did?”
Thorne picks up his cup and drains the purple liquid inside. These dramatic pauses of his are killing me, but when he finally speaks I can understand why it took him a bit to get the words out. “A Forsaken tried to kill you as an infant.”
Boom. There it is.
“B-but, why?”