Shiny and black and smooth.
Bale slicing off a lock and pocketing it as a victory trophy rushes back to me with striking vividness, and the hot shock in my chest makes it hard to breathe.
Steadying myself, I turn to Maia. Escape is what I need, even if Kellan will be there.
“Ready?” she asks, starting to shift.
I nod, knowing exactly where this night will lead. Some drinking, flirting, dancing, and a disappointed man or two. Offers are appreciated but never taken, at least by me.
Arran helps me onto Maia’s back, then shifts, too, along with Wade and Danica. We fly out the big windows, ready for a night on the town.
We go straight to our usual tavern, The Fork in the Tail. It’s big, with several rooms, all of them crowded and noisy. We’re greeted like old friends, even though our visits are occasional. For the owners, it’s a coup to be the local watering hole of the Elite Wing. For the other patrons, it’s exciting to catch a glimpse of us up close—their lucky night, since no one ever knows when we’re coming. And for us, it’s nice to feel connected to a more normal life every now and then.
For me, these nights out feel like one of those school-aged social experiences I should’ve had but didn’t. No one ever invited me.
Drayke is a melting pot, though dragon shifters are the most numerous of the many peoples who call the capital of Torridaig home. The next biggest group is humans, but we also have vampires from Fanghaven, and refugees from Bloodwold who rebelled against the blood violence in their kingdom. Unless they want to risk a long prison sentence, Torridaig’s vampires only feed off the willing, and it’s no secret that when it’s consensual, pleasure blossoms instead of pain.
I still shudder at the idea. I’ve never been tempted to allow a consensual bite, and now, less so than ever.
We also have werebeasts who hold all sorts of jobs and raise families among us. It’s rarer, but some fae are mated to dragon shifters or vampires, sparingly absorbing enough years and vigor from their partners to sustain their lives and ethereal beauty. Gildenfae are as welcome as anyone else who obeys the law, but they mostly roam around Ellonrift at their own pace, finding and mining gold until tunnels run dry, then packing up and moving on to their next source of ore and lifeforce.
Enjoying the energy of the tavern, I do just as I planned for a couple of hours—drink, flirt, and dance. Kellan never shows up, making everything so much easier. There are no piercing comments or long, heavy stares. No innuendo or insults. I do what I want, and if a conversation gets too personal or I sense an invitation to go somewhere more private coming, I saunter off for another mug, leaving the flirtation behind.
There are already one too many brews in me when I decide I absolutely need to use the washroom. I walk a little unsteadily toward the back of the tavern and hate the way my head spins. I should’ve known better. This is when everything slows down instead of speeding up, and the hot, crowded rooms suddenly hold no appeal for me. People reel to the live music, and I squint against the lantern light flashing in my eyes as they jump and twirl and spin each other around. The aftertaste of all that dragon’s brew strikes me as bitter now, and I grimace, swallowing it down.
I have to cross three rooms, and each one feels interminable. Finally slipping into the washroom, I take a second to breathe and clear my head. It’s cooler and quieter here. I relieve myself, then go to the basin and spout to wash my hands and splash cold water over my face. Water drips from my nose and chin as I look at myself in the old, speckled mirror, already feeling steadier. I usually stop before the dragon’s brew that puts me over the edge, but tonight, I guess I just…didn’t.
I swipe the remaining water from my face. Kellan still hasn’t appeared, and none of us know where he is. At first, I enjoyed the freedom from the constant pressure of his focus on me, but now I’m worried about him.
Everyone else seems to be having a good time. Wade found a battle-scarred, slightly older dragon shifter to go home with a few minutes ago. I wasn’t surprised by the choice after seeing Wade’s face light up when talking to the man. I have a feeling Danica is close to making a decision about the tall, blond dragon shifter who’s been sniffing around her all night. And Maia and Arran only talk to each other in this place. I never worry about having a ride back to Drayke Mountain because I know they’ll be right where I left them when I’m done flirting and dancing and want to go home.
The terrible mirror isn’t so cloudy that I can’t see the wry smile on my face. Tonight, it’s been a little harder than usual to extricate myself from conversations once I’m done with them. Kellan’s glowering presence usually helps drive men away from me. It’s been more work without him, and the realization makes me wish he was here almost as much as I’m glad he’s not. I’ve wondered sometimes if I’d actually leave with someone if Kellan wasn’t watching my every move, but tonight is proof that I wouldn’t.
Then again, no one compares to Bale Cinderheart.
Sighing, I give myself a sour look in the mirror, frustrated by my persistent obsession. Since there’s no solving it—or dissolving it—tonight, I leave the washroom and plunge into the dim corridor. A man peels himself off the wall and blocks my path, the narrow back hallway empty except for the two of us and one flickering lantern.
My pulse hammers out a warning beat, and my senses sharpen. Scowling, I try to slip past him and leave him access to the now-empty washroom, but he slides with me.
“Don’t be afraid.” He holds out his hands. His dark eyes don’t look menacing, but anyone blocking me in a tight corridor isn’t my friend.
“Get out of the way,” I snap.
“I need to talk to you.” He’s bigger than I am, tall, wide-shouldered, and sturdy with more muscle than most regular people pack on. I don’t see even a hint of exposed fangs, but every instinct in me screams vampire.
My heartbeat accelerates, and my recent wounds suddenly throb. Worse is the fear that freezes me solid. I back away from him as my mind turns into a tangle of too-sharp memories. Piercing fangs, lancing pain, terror, Rim.
“I don’t know you. We have no reason to talk.” I lift my chin, pretending panic isn’t rampaging through me.
“I can hear the blood hurtling through your veins.”
“Well, that’s reassuring.” Shuddering, I try to push past him.
“Idallia.” He grabs my arm, his tight hold pulling me close. “You’re in danger.”
Gasping, I rip myself from his grip and lurch back so hard I bump the wall. The lantern sways precariously, throwing nightmarish shadows down the corridor. “How do you know my name?”
“Everyone here knows your name. I simply had to ask the barkeep.” He holds up his hands again as though displaying their weaponless state makes them harmless. “I’m here to warn you. The Vampire King got wind of a sunblood among the Elite Wing. He knows it’s you.”
