Shadowfae (17 page)

Luna swept away to greet other guests in a perfumed swirl of silk, and Dante laughed and led me up to the bar, his arm flung casually around my shoulder. I went, still stunned, my mind racing. Luna had brushed my glamour aside like it was an annoying insect. How could I ever get close to him?

Dante ordered wine, leaning his elbow on the glossy black bar. “So when did you ever meet Luna?”

I shrugged, trying to keep it casual. I hadn’t seen Rajah here yet, but I couldn’t imagine he’d have any more success than I. It didn’t make me feel better. “It was a long time ago. I’m surprised he remembered me.”

“Who could forget you, my love?” He slid a long-stemmed glass toward me, thick ruby wine glimmering.

I shuddered and pushed it back, sick copper echoes twinging my nose. “I’ll have a white, thanks.”

He captured my hand, preternaturally swift, and brought my palm to his lips, burning me. “Are you sure?”

My vision swirled and blackened. I inhaled sharply, dizzy, my stomach lurching, blood rushing away from my head. Blindly I gripped the glass bar, nausea frothing in my guts. I felt weird. This whole night was weird.

“Jade? Are you okay?” Dante’s voice drifted over me, and the world shimmered back into focus, a glimpse of pale carpet, the black glass bar near my face smelling sickly of lemon disinfectant. How long did I faint for? A few seconds? A minute?

I wiped damp wisps from my face, my skin burning. I needed space, cool clean air where I could think. I needed to concentrate, to come up with a plan, and Dante wasn’t helping. “I just need the bathroom. I’ll be back in a moment.”

He smiled, sweet and dangerous, and sipped his wine, long teeth glinting. “Don’t be too long.”

S
hadowed in sepia-drenched starlight, Tony LaFaro watches Jade through transparent inner eyelids as she weaves into the ladies’ room, teetering on her high heels, her titties just about falling out of that tiny excuse for a dress. Tarty little whore, trying all the flavors before she buys. Never mind them bangles, if he was Ange, he’d fuck some goddamn sense into her.

The slender yellow fae girl beside Tony grins and trails her glittering hair on his shoulder, reaching with her long tongue for his cheek. Her crystal-tainted gin fizz lolls half-empty in her hand. Now this pretty lady’s no whore. Wouldn’t hafta spike her drink if she was a whore. Told him to fuck right off, she did. She ain’t saying that no more.

Tony wipes remnants of bright banshee blue from his flat nose and slips a scaly hand around her hip, eliciting a sigh and another besotted lick to his cheek. With his other hand, he slips out his phone and dials Ange. “Hey, it’s me. Yeah, nothing much. Listen, I’ve got a thing for ya. Guess which bangle-wearing thrallslut I just saw with Dante DiLuca?”

He grins, his forked tongue slithering, and holds the phone away from his ear to muffle Ange’s curses. “Yeah, mate, he sure did. . . . I dunno, she looked happy enough about it to me. . . . How the hell would I know if he’s fucking her? I don’t have my hand around his cock, I’m just tellin’ ya what I saw.”

He holds the phone away again and nibbles at the girl’s sugary lips, tasting her sleepy kiss while he waits for Ange to shut up. “Will you calm the fuck down and listen to me? I’m trying to tell ya this could be a thing for us. Kane could be up to something. I mean, I woulda dumped ya greasy fangwhore ass, too, but she can’t just . . . Okay, so now ya real brain’s workin’. Whaddaya want me to do? . . . Well, I’d let it run, see what we catch. . . . Yeah, okay. I’ll let ya know.”

He debates telling Ange what else he’s heard—that there’s a certain curry-munching incubus with his queerboy hand up Jade’s skirt, too—but decides he’ll save it and ruin Ange’s night again another time. Vampires. No sense of humor.

The yellow girl sucks on his pointed earlobe, her lithe body falling against his. He stretches webbed fingers to squeeze her perky little breast and cuts Ange off in midsentence. “Yeah, mate. Whatever. Gotta go.”

13

I
clutched my bag in front of me and walked to the end of the bar, where an open doorway led to a candlelit bathroom, the mirrored walls leaping with reflected flame. My shoulder itched above my collarbone, and I brushed at it irritably. I leaned my forehead on the cool mirror above the creamy porcelain sink and closed my eyes. Tears pressed behind my eyelids, stinging. I felt unprepared, alone, helpless.

A choking gasp made me lift my head. A fae girl huddled in the corner, pale blue arms clutched around her scrawny midriff. I palmed my eyes clear. She retched again, a dry heave that made her gasp, blue water welling from her silvery eyes, long white tangles spilling forward over her face.

I wiped my nose. “Are you okay?”

She started to wave me away, but choked again, her face crumpling in pain. This time she did spew, jets of dark stinking mess riddled with blood. I held her hair for her while it all came up, her jerking body thin under my arm, the long silver dress she wore staining with vomit and blue saliva. “I can’t keep it down,” she gasped, bloody bubbles frothing from her sharp nose. “Some snort it with sugar. Live forever. Blow your mind, that will.”

I eyed the rainbow vomit suspiciously. Bright, thick, cherry-colored blood that clotted and writhed like a living thing. Not fae. Not human.

Vampire blood. Was it Dante’s? I shuddered, jealous and disgusted at the same time. “You’ll kill yourself with that stuff.”

“Doubt it. You should know.” Gamely the fairy grinned at me and grasped the wall with long padded fingers like a frog’s to pull herself to her full height, inches above me. Her beautiful long face shone translucent in the candlelight, blue-veined skin glowing.

She traced a splayed finger over my collarbone and licked the tip, tasting. Her delicate fingers flowed to my chin, lifting it so she could look at me, black pupils slitting wide like a cat’s in silver irises. “You look lost. Want to try something? How about oblivion? I can do you a mean forgetful. Or some fresh abandon, let yourself go, sweet child. What do you say?” She sniffed my mouth, lascivious, flickering her long forked tongue over thin blue lips.

Her fruity river scent drifted, faintly rotten. “No thanks.”

Her fingers on my chin held me fast, her shiny eyes pleading. “You sure? You look like you’ve memory to spare. How about a hit of curiosity? It’s my most popular. Broaden your horizons.”

Her body heat radiated, her curved hipbones standing out like beaks, silvery cotton flowing around her slender bare feet. I shook my head and made to turn away, but I hesitated, thinking of Luna, the challenge glinting in his tiger’s eyes. “What about confidence? Can you bottle me that?”

The veins in her face pulsed azure. “Oh, yes. Assurance to stand you up reckless in death’s face. One bottle, one fix. But worth my price.” She licked her lips again, artful. “I’ll need a memory. Something bold and gallant.”

A shot of recklessness might be just what Luna needed. “Knock yourself out. But just one.”

I closed my eyes, thinking of that warm spring night on the Bosphorus when I met him, lanterns shining over the barge-laden water, the fragrance of pomegranates sweet on the stinging oriental breeze. We danced, silk scarves flowing from my hair, our bodies pressed together, his fingers insistent in mine, his desire for me already pushing his cock hard and ready against my belly.

The fairy giggled and sniffed my face, her warm breath tickling over me. “Mmm. More, please.”

I’d wanted him that night like I’d wanted no other. We’d stumbled through a dim stone doorway, our lips glued together, his tongue mashing mine, my hands already hungry inside his clothes. His body was a revelation, smooth, muscular, strong. I pushed him against the wall and took him there, first with my mouth and then when he could take no more I climbed onto him and he brought me off with his last frantic thrusts. We came together that first time, and later that night when he tied me to his bed with those same silken scarves and tortured me with sweet desire, I thought I’d found life itself.

“Yes. That one.” The fairy glided her lips across mine, salty, parting my lips with her scaly tongue and slipping it inside. My throat constricted as it probed and writhed like a wet snake, and I reeled as the energy dragged up over my tonsils, forcing from me. I gagged, saliva flowing.

“Mmm. Just the thing. Memory food.” She withdrew, her eyes shimmering, and drew out a shiny glass tube. She whispered a puff of breath across the opening, misting the glass. A tiny cloud of golden sparkles showered like fairy dust, drifting down into the tube. She popped in the cork and handed the tube to me between two bony blue fingers. “Take care, lonely child.”

I took it, plastering the back of my hand over my sick mouth, and mumbled indistinct thanks as the fairy glided away, freshly healthy on the energy I’d lost.

Golden ether shimmered in the vial, inviting. I thought once again of the night I met Luna, but I couldn’t remember a thing, and a weak grin spread over my lips despite my nausea. Now, I was armed and dangerous. But Luna wasn’t stupid. He’d be wary of anything I offered him, even hot fresh fairy score like this.

I thumbed the cork aside and sniffed, cautious, careful not to bring the glimmering stuff too close. Icy freshness sparkled up my nose, citrus and stinging like cocaine, tingling my palate as it wafted down. My pulse strengthened, bold despite my fatigue. Sure, I’d get him to take it. Why not?

I slipped the corked tube into my bag and stepped out of the bathroom, trying to feed on that magical confidence. But they were my memories she’d crafted, my essence she’d trapped and tortured, and I knew it for a false high. I tossed my head back, game, but for some reason my ankle buckled and my wobbly legs wouldn’t hold me. My shoulder thudded into the shiny wall as I staggered, pain spearing my guts. Jesus. What had I eaten?

Dizzy, I gripped my stomach with both hands and folded. Red waves shimmered before my eyes, sickening.

R
ajah hops up the stone steps and through the automatic glass doors into EurekaTower. Cool air slides pleasantly over his skin after the heat outside, and he scrapes sweat-damp hair off his neck. The foyer glistens, bright yellow downlights reflecting on warm clay-colored marble. He hangs back awhile, waiting for his chance, but his nerves wriggle, and it’s nothing to do with the rapture tricks he’s about to pull. He just hopes Jade and DiLuca are already inside. He doesn’t want to see her with Dante, watch her smile for him, touch him, look at him that way.

The cold words they’d exchanged still scratch at Rajah’s skin like jagged ice, and the shocking heat of their almost-kiss only sharpens the pain. He won’t hold back if he gets that opportunity again, but the chance of that is slim. Maybe he’s just wishing her mesmerized. Maybe she wants Dante more. Hell, she’s probably already swapping more fluids with him than blood.

Jealousy burns his throat like bile, but sorrow taints his mouth, too, sweet as well as bitter. Fuck. What does he care, right? Not like it’ll matter once he’s got Luna’s poisonous soul thrashing in a bottle.

People walk in and out, residents, visitors, and tourists, but he’s interested only in those going in. Three girls and their boyfriends, a glitter of golden bangles, eyeliner and silk. Too many, too difficult. Two guys holding hands, beautiful in smooth expensive shirts, designer stubble, diamond earrings. Too conspicuous. A pair of young women, jeweled chokers sparkling at their throats, long blond hair carefully blow-dried. Satiny party dresses, one pale yellow and one purple, and strappy heels show off long tanned legs. They laugh together as they step into the glass elevator.

Now that’s what Rajah’s waiting for. He slips into the elevator with them, offering a smile. Their perfume drifts, sweet and sexy. “Eighty-seven?”

“Of course.” They eye him up and down, sly painted lashes dipping. One whispers in her friend’s ear, and they laugh.

Rajah leans over to touch the button and releases a silent waft of rapture. The shimmer caresses the girls, brushing over their limbs, creeping along their smooth skin. The one in yellow inhales, a hazy wisp drifting up her nose like a delicious scent, and she flushes, biting her lip as she watches him with smoldering eyes. The second girl is more wary, her frosted eyelids narrowing, but her gaze, too, is drawn, her breath shorter as she shifts on her feet, squirming.

He traps his hands behind him as the elevator door slides shut, his bangles clinking against dark glass, and gives the yellow girl a come-hither look, laced with none-too-subtle glamour.

She practically purrs, her body stretching luxuriantly. His gaze follows the delicate line of her throat, down to her swelling cleavage. Her nipples harden beneath the thin yellow silk, tiny peaks poking, begging for his touch.

Rajah’s blood heats, rapture tingling beneath his skin, but faint sickness sours his mouth, too, and he wonders why. This is just work, just a job that needs to be done. There’s no reason he should feel guilty. It’s not like he’s promised her anything.