Who knew what he was fucking seeing at this point. I wasn’t just losing control. I was completely out of control.
I fumbled in my pocket, yanked out my pipe with shaky hands, and inhaled intensely a few times. The warm and velvety magic filled my lungs and extended through my body. My heavy eyelids shut, and I focused on the way my tongue was coated with the familiar sweetness of honey and fruit from the fae magic.
Dex’s cursing fell away, replaced by a gentle ringing in my ears, like crystals on wind chimes in a gentle but steady breeze. The magic did its job, tuning out reality until there was nothing left.
Every fiber of my magic rolled back into me as I sank further into the magic-induced serenity that the pipe offered. This fucking pipe saved my ass in more ways than one. The fae sure knew how to make enchanted items.
My fear magic plugged up, for now.
I cracked open my eyes and exhaled the rainbow smoke that swirled and glittered before dissipating, and my mouth fell open at the sight in front of me.
Dex, fucking Dexter Shadowheart, had Gravesend scooped up bridal style in his arms, staring at her with fucking glitter in his eyes.Glitter.
I took another hit, exhaling another plume of rainbow smoke that danced like a specter of color before fading out. When I focused back on Dex, I realized I had seen what I thought I’d seen.
Dex’s face was turned down toward hers, and I could see his expression shimmer with a softness I didn’t think he was ever fucking capable of.
Gravesend lay limp in his arms, her long obsidian-black tresses spilling over Dex’s arm like water.
I pushed up off the ground, the fae magiccoursing through me beautifully to make sure I wasn’t losing control of my fear magic again. That shit sucked.
I flicked my gaze to her face and took in her full red lips that looked stained by the blood of her victims, and they were parted slightly as if she were beyond exhaustion. Her rosy cheeks were the only sign of life against her porcelain skin.
She was prettier than anyone or anything I’d ever seen.
Not that I’d admit that. She was Death’s daughter, and I wasn’t going to give in to her allure.
We hadn’t come here to gawk at her; we’d come here to teach her a lesson about talking shit to Bram. He was fucking sensitive to the word bastard, and I didn’t like anyone using that against him.
But honestly?
He probably said something pretty shitty to her first. I mean, hewasa drunk bastard. But he was my friend, too.
And…Bram wasn’t afraid of me. He didn’t look at me with fear ingrained into his skull the way other demons did.
Dex dipped his head closer to her, and I stilled.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed. “Don’t be a creep.”
“I’mnot.” His shadow magic danced and twisted around him, but one tendril shot out and ever so carefully caressed her cheek. “She’s really fucking pretty, Skel. Can’t we keep her?”
“Bram would lose his absolute shit, dude.” I thinned my lips at him. I originally thought he was joking, but not so much now that he looked like I kicked his puppy.
“But she’sreallyfucking pretty,” he mumbled, another shadow tendril gliding over her thigh wrap. “I really want to know what’s under here.”
“Don’t.” My voice was sharp like a whip, and I stormed over to one of the two of hims I could see and glared. “She deserves her privacy just like you did.”
His eyes hardened, and he took an audible gulp and called the tendril on the wrap back to him. He knew damn well I was referring to when he wore a bright purple scarf to hide the scar around his neck. Now, he wears nothing, and his large scar is on display. But there was a time when he was ashamed of it.
I’d been ashamed of the scar sliced across my right eye my entire fucking life, but I never got a chance to hide it. When I was this high, I started seeing doubles, and I had a suspicion it had a lot to do with how deep her shadow tendril dug into my cornea that day.
I couldrememberthe fear on her face whenshe stared down at me, but instead of nurturing me, she…
“I wonder…” His other tendrils moved around them both almost possessively. “How pretty would her tears be?”
“You’re a fucking psycho, Dex,” I spat, but I couldn’t even feel my face anymore from the pipe’s magic.
“Pretty sure it’s called having an antisocial personality disorder, actually.” His lips curved into a wider grin.
