All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [307]
“I’ve come to offer you a job,” she said.
That snapped him out of it.
Yeah, she was gorgeous.
Yeah, she was close enough to grab.
And yeah, she smelled great.
But she just wanted what every other otherworldly creature had ever wanted from Robert: to stick him in a bind where he’d risk his life and limb and soul for some twisted scheme.
Something clicked inside Robert. His pulse slowed and he felt cold, and strong in a way that he’d never felt before: impervious on the inside.
“No thanks,” he said. “I’ve had jobs before. None of ’em ever seemed to work out for me. Guess I’m what you’d call a lousy employee.”
Sealiah’s smile faltered.
Now Robert could see the monster inside—smoldering in her eyes.
He pushed his luck and added, “If that’s all you wanted to say, no offense, I’d just like to be left alone . . . and left to forget, ma’am.”
Robert went back to his towel and lay down, crossed his arms behind his head and gazed up at the infinite blue sky (but also watching the Infernal out of the corner of his eye).
Sealiah stayed where she was, staring at him, still smelling insanely good to Robert. Her lips pressed together, and the air around her heated and shimmered—but then she chuffed with amusement.
“You are stronger than I realized.” She came over and sat on the blanket next to him.
This close, Robert felt her pulse thrum in the air between them. His blood wanted to race and catch up and run with hers. He took a deep breath, though, and kept his cool.
She scooched closer. A few drops of seawater dripped onto him. “You want to be left alone, Robert? Really? Are you hiding? Licking your wounds?” She looked him over as if he were a prime rib.
He shrugged.
“You can, you know,” she said. “But in a few months, perhaps a year or two there will be no neutral parties left. There will be nowhere to hide. All will be involved in this. Or they will be dead.”
Robert was suddenly thirsty. More than anything he wanted to grab one of those beers just within his reach and drink the whole thing. But to do that he’d have to reach past her, touch her, and that would be like falling . . . and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself once that happened.
She leaned closer. “You will eventually have to choose a side.” Her breath whispered over his chest, and gooseflesh pebbled there.
It felt great, and Robert became dizzy for a moment, but then found his mental footing again.
“Then,” he told her, “I choose my side.”
Sealiah threw back her head and laughed. It sounded like funeral bells. Birds in the nearby trees took wing, screeching in fear.
“I was correct to choose you as my champion against Mephistopheles,” she said. “In a sense you possess the strength to do for me more than any other ever has. . . .” Her voice trailed off as if she’d just realized something and it had halted her super seductress act dead in its tracks.
She blinked and shook her head. “I can help you as well. I could make you stronger than you ever dreamed. All you need do is remain my champion, Robert Farmington of Arkansas.”
Her fingertips brushed against his forearm, and shivers of pleasure arced from her to him.
“And all you need do is swear one tiny oath of loyalty.”
“No way.” Robert pulled away. “No oaths. No contracts. No blood ties. Like I told you: I’m done working for anyone else.”
She looked him a long time. The ocean pounding sounded like a typhoon.
“No,” she finally said, “I can see that now. You are too strong, perhaps.”
Again, for a moment, she didn’t look like any Infernal he’d ever seen before as the skin between her perfectly smooth brows crinkled with frustration.
Her gaze then dropped to the sand and she murmured, “Is it because . . . I am what I am? You think me evil? Twisted? And you believe that is all that I am?”
Robert heard the hurt in her voice. Infernals were really good liars, though, so he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just a game. Robert was