Felix’s hand settled on the small of her back when she whispered, “Cece?”
Almost like she could hear Dahlia, the pink figure tilted her head up toward the penthouse. One tiny arm raised in a wildly enthusiastic wave as she jumped up and down, like she wanted to be absolutely certain she was seen.
Dahlia pressed herself against the glass, too astonished to do more than stare as her best friend grabbed the hand of a dark, helmeted figure that had slipped from the driver’s seat. The two figures crossed the snowy street, clearly aiming for the building’s entrance.
They were coming inside. They werethere.
“Cece! Cece is here!” she cried, ripping herself away from the windows. Sprinting across the room in her sparkly stilettos and crystal-covered dress, she barreled past the grinning Bowans to get to the door.
She was so busy tearing toward the penthouse’s entrance that she didn’t pay any attention to the men who gathered in the sitting area.
Felix stood next to Alastair, hands tucked into his pockets and chin lifted with pride. “We did all right,” he murmured, nudging Alastair with his elbow.
The older vampire sniffed. “You sure we can’t convince her friend to move?”
“Nah,” Felix replied, “but we can give Dahlia this.”
Job done, Tomas tucked his phone away. “Whatever makes her happy.”
Divya’s Gift
The Lovers’Home was not so much an organization as it was a stepping stone. It was a place of charity, where those in need of an escape or a helping hand could receive meals, a safe place to sleep, and assistance.
But it wasn’t just worshippers who benefitted from it.
When she chose to leave the Lovers’ Refuge, where she’d been raised as a foundling and expected to take on the life of a priestess, it wasn’t an option to simply walk out the door and into the real world. Not because it wasn’t allowed but because the real world was an alien one.
She didn’t know how to exist there.
Luckily, she wasn’t the first foundling to leave the nest, as it were, and that meant there were systems in place to ease her transition.
The Lovers’ Home had the structure she’d always known, but it was situated in the bright, pulsing heart of a city. She still served in the name of the goddesses, but she was paid for her work. She still lived among acolytes and a Head Priestess, but she could socialize outside of the confines of a Refuge’s walls.
And beyond the Refuge’s walls was…everything.
Divya marveled at the sight of Times Square decorated for the start of Burden’s Moon. All around her, workers set up massive, glittering displays and towering screens flashed with color. Cars drove smoothly by on what she’d learned was anm-gridwhile people streamed over crosswalks.
She hadn’t been raised completely ignorant of technology or media, but truly experiencing the energy of a city was incomparable to anything she could’ve imagined.
The sound, the scent, themovement —Divya felt as though she was standing in the eye of a storm. She hadn’t decided if it was a storm she enjoyed yet, but if a lifetime of worship had taught her anything, it was to appreciate the majesty of the overwhelming.
And when she tilted her head back to behold the gleaming tower that dominated the skyline, she was certainly overwhelmed.
Truthfully, as much as she enjoyed the glitter of the holiday decorations and the rush of Times Square, neither were the reason she came there at least once a week.
Shielding her eyes from the glare, she held her breath and counted the winged figures silhouetted against the sky. Today there were four. There’d be more at lunchtime, when the Isand’s staff took off from the roof, and again at dusk, when the business day ended. Occasionally she was lucky enough to catch them flying overhead at the Home, but it was a rare sight.
When the last dragon landed on the jutting platform at the top of the tower, Divya sighed and wandered in the direction of the Home. Tucking the sides of her white coat against her body, she traced a familiar path to the tiny cafe the acolytes had introduced her to.
She’d never had much of a fascination with dragons before, but she’d never known them as anything other than solemnworshippers. Now that she was in one of their capitals, she found their glamor and flashy colors as eye-catching as jewels.
Even the old couple who ran the Blue Flame Cafe were objects of quiet admiration. Both were variations of crimson that deepened into black at dusk, and when they stood together behind the counter, their tails twined in a sinuous display of affection. Divya loved to watch them, and she was infinitely grateful that they’d taken her under their wing, so to speak.
“Minu kingitus,”Marika called out, “close the door! You’ll catch your death if you stand in that cold any longer.”
Divya hurried to do as she was told. The warmth of the cafe was almost oppressive compared to the frigid temperature outside. It seared her cheeks and the tip of her nose as she bypassed the handful of tables the cafe boasted in favor of the formica counter and vinyl-topped stools.
She came to the cafe whenever she had a free moment, and although they protested, she often found herself helping clean tables, organize condiments, and stack mugs behind the counter. Divya didn’t know much about socializing or making conversation, but she could be useful.
