The healers of Mountain Haven have records of some different plants that are not in the books back in Lunameade. Most notably, they’ve documented the poison properties of Stellarium Blossoms. The flowers were so rare in Lunameade that I didn’t even realize they were poisonous. But according to this book, in low doses they have a subtle paralytic effect. In higher doses, they will paralyze the entire body and the victim will asphyxiate.
“Well then, I’ll let you get back to your studies of—” Henry bends over my chair, his breath ruffling my hair as he leans close. “Poisons.”
“I have a question about your deaths?—”
Henry stills but doesn’t object.
“Is it the method or the specific circumstances?” I ask. “Meaning, does a death from one poison prevent a death from any poison?”
“It’s the method—that’s why I can kiss you as much as I want.”
He’s so close that the juniper and cold mountain air scent of him is an assault on my senses. He slides my hair over my shoulder and brushes his nose up my neck.
I shiver, waiting for the sting of fangs, but he simply takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Did I distract you?”
I swat him away. “No, you just reminded me that I wanted to ask how you hide those fangs.”
He arches a brow. “They only come out when I need to feed—or if someone wants to play.”
That’s how he hid them from me. “So the first night I caught you on the hunt, you were going to feed on that woman.”
“Miriam. Yes.”
I frown. An irritating hint of envy fizzles through my blood.
He clicks his tongue. “It wasn’t the same with her. That was just a bit of fun. I never even had the impulse to claim her. That was just simple hunting and feeding. No need to be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” I snap.
He arches a brow and tips his head forward. His dark hair falls over his forehead. It’s irritating for him to look this handsome when I’m so annoyed at him.
“Not jealous, but you are tense,” he murmurs. “All that late-night fantasizing not cutting it? I know you’ve been enjoying your toys, but I imagine it’s hard to get the same satisfaction without me. I’d be happy to have you back in my bed.”
The book on poisons is heavy enough that it could do some damage if I chucked it at him, but it’s too valuable. I might need to come back to it when I have more time.
He wants to disorient me? Fine. I can do it right back.
“I’d like to meet with Nicolina Laurence. Do you think she would see me?”
All the humor drains from Henry’s face. “Why her?”
“Because storytellers are also historians and it was her tale that clarified things for me.”
He scrubs a hand over his face, and his annoyance is only an added bonus to this task. “We would have to make an appointment. I will go to Raining Star Bar and see if she can see us this afternoon or this evening.”
I offer an overly cheery smile. “What a helpful husband.”
He rolls his eyes as he walks toward the library door. “I live to serve.” He eyes my book. “Seems like you could write such a book at this point.”
I cock my head and give him my most patronizing smile. “I can see how you might think that, but it’s like I’ve always said. A woman can never be too rich, too confident, or too knowledgeable about poisonous plants.”
53
HARLOW
True to his word, Henry begrudgingly made us an appointment with Nicolina. Unfortunately, Nicolinareallydoesn’t like him, so she made us wait three days, until after the nightly story hour, when it’s late and the Raining Star Bar is almost empty.
A few dwindling storytellers sit at the bar, drinking and talking and occasionally breaking out into hearty laughter.
