Shifting the Night Away (61 page)

“That is not for you to question, little mortal.” His accent was crisp and formal, like she expected an immortal’s to be. After all, he basically transcended time.

As he dropped his hand from his head and stalked toward her, she straightened her shoulders. Up close, he was even more intimidating. From farther away, he hadn’t appeared quite so…large.

Or sinful.

His eyes…they weren’t black, more like the dark hue of a night sky, the hint of glinting stars in their depths. Their sharp angles suggested a cunning, clever mind.

Even though he was millennia-old, his face was youthful. He could pass for his mid-thirties, easily. Half of his onyx-hued hair was tied back, the rest fell past his brawny shoulders. He had to be at least six and half feet tall, a good foot taller than her. A teasing glimpse of his bronzed, ripped chest peeked through the black silk of his Chinese-cut dress shirt. She flicked her tongue across her bottom lip as the urge to tear his shirt open itched through her palms.

She struggled between ogling him and turning her back on him, but the raw power emanating from him won out, freezing her feet to the ground as he prowled toward her.

“You are now a servant in my household. These are the rules you must obey.” He paused two feet from her. “First, you will not address me without permission. When you do address me, you will call me Master.”

She tilted her head, but kept her stare trained on his. He might be an immortal and she a lowly mortal, but if he assumed that for one minute she’d play the subservient slave…

His intense perusal burned through her, but she refused to lose this stare-down.

A crease formed between his brows. “You would do best not to gaze upon me. Come.” After issuing his bizarre command, he strode toward the residence. Placing one reluctant foot in front of the other, she followed him. “You’ll be in charge of dusting my collection. You’ll perform your duties as though you are as invisible as a mouse. Understood?” While he spoke, he led her through the grand, marble column-lined corridors of his estate.

Wow, the man liked his rules. Too bad she excelled at breaking them. “Don’t you have a butler or someone to handle new servant enlistment for you?”

He whipped around and planted his scowl on her. “Don’t you listen to any instructions?”

She shrugged. “Not really,
Master
.” A tic worked his jaw as she rolled over the word.
Hmm.
If she exasperated him enough, he might run begging to the Matchmaker to send her away.

“I prefer to assess my servants myself.” Did a threat hide in his words? Maybe living for so long had made him paranoid. He muttered something that sounded like a curse and continued his march down the corridor.

She blinked once, then hastened to catch up to his long strides. This island, Fangzhang—one of the three inhabited by the Eight Immortals—was a lush, tropical paradise. If she were looking for a vacation, she might’ve considered settling in. The white-halled residence was nestled high on a cliff, surrounded by a thick jungle landscape broken only by the dozens of cascading waterfalls. The front of the mansion faced the ocean, an endless view of turquoise jewels.

As she entered the mansion, her head whipped from side to side. Holy. Crap. The inside of Li’s mansion was a cross between a villa and a museum. Pristine ivory marble swirled with ebony composed the floors, walls, and ceiling. The clacking of her heeled boots echoed, while the immortal’s footsteps in front of her fell silently. Right. If she sought to prove her Lotus skills to him, she’d go barefoot next time.

They paused in front of solid hardwood doors that slid open—a common spell. He glanced back at her. Checking to see if she was impressed by his magic? She kept her features composed and peered past him into the chamber.

He extended his hand for her to enter. “This is where you’ll work.”

She stepped inside and appraised the room. Her museum assessment earlier hadn’t been a fluke. As she strode into the room, lights dimmed on, illuminating the treasures inside the glass cases. At least a hundred of them were arranged in tidy rows, separated by one long main aisle. She treaded forward, Li following behind her.

“Your plan is for me to dust your toy collection?” Her fingertips trailed along a glass countertop as she paced down one side row. Pausing in front of a display of jewels, she snorted, then narrowed her eyes. The rumors were true. Here, she would vanish. Blend into the murals on the walls. Never to be noticed again. Steeling her resolve, she hopped up on top of the display case. “No.”

“Excuse me?” He advanced down the row opposite her, pausing on the other side of the counter, and regarded her, brows raised.

“I won’t do any of those things.” She arched her back and crossed her legs on top of the case. “I’m more than a feather duster. You really should make use of my talents.”

His lips pressed thin and she braced for an eruption. Immortals didn’t exactly have the best reputations when it came to temperament. If she didn’t clarify her role in his household, she
would
vanish.

Unacceptable.

“Talents?” He cocked his head, and something dark flashed in his eyes. Lust, anger? Both? “I’m an immortal. What use could I possibly have for you?”

Oh, don’t go there, buddy.
She twisted around, dangled her legs on his side, and smiled. “I’m trained as a Lotus. I’m discreet, stealthy, efficient. Surely, a renowned immortal such as yourself—”
never hurt to pad their ego
—“has a great deal of tasks that require such skills.”

“Elaborate.” He bent forward, planting one hand on the case on either side of her. The dark spice of him taunted her nose as she inhaled.

She leaned in closer to meet him at eye-level. “How about instead of cleaning your toys, I find you some new ones?
Hmm?
Don’t tell me there isn’t a god or immortal who has something you want? Or an object they’ve stolen from you and you’d like to have back?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched.
Aha.
She’d hit upon the right note. Now to play the chorus. “I could get it back for you. I’m pretty talented at that sort of thing.” With one fingertip, she circled a button on his silk shirt. He was so sexy, she couldn’t resist getting closer.

Hope sparked inside her chest. This wouldn’t be a complete waste. If she got on Li’s good side, he might put in a word for her with the Matchmaker.

He wrenched back from her. “No.”

The spark sizzled out as though he’d dunked her in the ocean. “Why not?” She had clearly seen he desired something.

Straightening, he crossed his arms. “You might be a successful, little cat burglar, but I’m afraid thieving from an immortal would take far more than you are capable of.”

“Oh really?” The fuse flared and she clenched her jaw. “We’ll see about that.” She swept her arm out at the room. “Pick something. Anything.” Sliding off the counter, she rose up on her tiptoes. “I’ll steal it from you. Then you’ll see what this cat burglar can do.”

Two

Wen’s tenacity fired parts within Li that had long gone cold. She was beautiful and full of life. Energy. Vitality. Before he’d lost his gift, he’d spent most of his days curing the diseased. This vibrancy was something he hadn’t encountered in a long time indeed.

The way she touched him... He’d had to bite back a groan at this siren’s teasing hands, had to reprimand himself against succumbing to her “talents.” No one touched him. Not in centuries, not of their own free will. He might’ve reclaimed his appealing form, but what lay beneath kept him from permitting any contact.

The denial was his penance. He refused to allow this cursed body any pleasure.

Wen hummed a satisfied purr, but she would never successfully thieve from him. There were far too many spells upon his collection. And yet… he desired to watch her try.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Very well.” He side-stepped to the left and paused in front of a glass case containing a jade bracelet. The verdant shade matched her eyes, but the jewelry itself was nothing special. “This one.”

“Perfect.” She smiled sweetly, but oh, there was a coyness in the curve of her lips. A confidence.

He almost hated to destroy it. “You should know, no being exists who can remove this from here.”

“So you say.” She crossed her arms, accentuating the curve of her breasts. He forced his gaze upward, onto hers. She met his stare, unblinking. Even though he’d commanded her not to.

Minx.

“You seem intent upon trying every rule of this household, but there is one you must never break.”

“Okay.” She dropped her hands. “What is it?”

“Follow me.” He led her back through the corridors and up a staircase to an empty room on the second floor of the East Wing. He ought to place her in the servants’ quarters in the West Wing, but hell, they were all males.

Males long kept without female companions.

He’d keep a better eye on her near his chamber.

Withdrawing a key from the many on the chain around his neck, he unlocked the door. “This will be your room. Your meals will be delivered to you here. If you require anything, don’t hesitate to ask. You’re free to roam the estate and the grounds. However, once the sun has set, you must return to your chamber. You’re not to leave this room until the sun rises. Is that clear?”

Her little nose scrunched and her lips quirked. “Why? You going to turn into a monster?”

I already am one.

He shook his head at her as she stepped into the room. “It’s for your own safety.”

“My safety? Or your control? Rumor is, no one ever leaves this island.” She spun back around, hand perched on her hip.

“They don’t.” Closing the door behind her, he stuck the key into the lock and twisted it. A groan carried from the other side of the door, but he ignored her complaint. No one ever left his island because they had nowhere else to go. The servants in his household were outcasts—banished from Heaven, banned from Earth.

He proceeded to his chamber across the hall and poured a drink. After he’d lost the ability to heal the diseased, he’d filled his halls with the castaways the Matchmaker sent him. Nothing would atone for his transgressions, but perhaps those who came here would attain peace.

Sinking into the leather chair beside the fire, Li took a long, deep swig of the amber liquor. The glass rattled in his hand. He gripped his right hand in his left, attempting to smooth the tremor.

They were getting worse.
He
was getting worse. If he didn’t find a solution soon…

I could get it back for you.
Wen’s offer tempted him, echoing through his mind. Fuck. He set the glass on the side table and shuffled his hands through his hair, dipping his head. She couldn’t. Logic told him so. She wasn’t his answer, no matter how enticing the notion was.

He strode to the bookcase and removed his once-magical gourd. The hollowed out hourglass-shaped vessel used to contain medicine that healed the sick. It had emitted a soft, smoky glow. Now, the gourd sat barren in his strong hands.

A poor trade.

He’d long ago run through the list of possibilities, striking one off after another without success. The magic was gone. Theft would not replenish it. Although others possessed similar potions, he hadn’t lied to Wen about the dangers of thieving from an immortal.

She would only get herself killed. He refused to have her blood on his hands.

He already had too many others’.

Ever since the Red Death pandemic had spread across the world, his rash decision had taunted him. Had haunted him.

He’d made the wrong damn choice.

***

Wen scowled at the closing door. At the click of the lock, she stomped her foot.
My own safety, my ass.

Cat burglars, as he’d labeled her, worked at night. The jerk. Why didn’t he want her to succeed? The only answer was…control. His house was impeccable. His belongings, more than orderly. Rules, rules, and more rules. She’d broken them, and for whatever reason, he’d allowed her to. If she succeeded in stealing the bracelet—and she would—that would probably be a swift kick to his male ego.

Huffing, she explored her new prison cell. Sheer curtains adorned an enormous four-poster bed draped in red silk sheets. Luxurious. The cool breeze coming in from the open balcony billowed the curtains. She tilted her head and strode toward the balcony. He might have locked the door, but the balcony was wide open. She stepped out into the cooling night air, sliding her fingertips along the stone banister, and leaned over the edge.