Chapter 7
Seven
“ V eros wants you to work?” Zoryana gasped, aghast by the suggestion.
“I know,” Everinne mumbled softly. “My thoughts exactly.”
She shoved her hands into the pockets of her tight leather pants, freshly annoyed at the prospect.
Together they strolled through the rolling cobblestone streets of the market square at the heart of the shopping district.
Valades and other vehicles weren’t allowed down the uneven avenues, the shopping district was for walking patrons only, which made it easier to browse and peruse as one’s leisure.
Row after row of quaint little shops were pressed next to one another, the narrow, pastel-hued storefronts showcasing their exceptional wares behind pointed arching windows.
Each wooden door was intricately carved, depicting whorls, runes, or some other archaic emblem.
Stores owned by witches were always easy to spot—tinkling bells and crystals wrapped with twine hung from every doorknob.
The rooftops were all a burnt orange color, many of them boasting curving spires that pierced the sky, and when the early morning or late evening light hit just right, the city was crowned in gold.
The early winter breeze swept through the maze of buildings, and though afternoon sunlight spilled into the square, Everinne still shivered.
She knew she should’ve grabbed a coat, but the deep teal sweater she’d chosen was too pretty to cover up.
It fell lazily off one shoulder and was cropped at the waist, but she was beginning to regret her decision.
Everinne and Zoryana continued winding their way along the slightly uneven path as vendors with rolling carts and brightly colored awnings offered an array of fashionable goods.
There were displays of expertly crafted daggers with jeweled hilts, lustrous fur cloaks for the coming winter, and the finest selection of fire ruby necklaces she’d ever seen.
Yesterday, she easily would’ve purchased such superfluous items, spending unseemly amounts of money on dresses that sparkled when she moved or perhaps even a few more bottles of honeyfire.
Now, however, she actually had to buy things of worth… like food.
As though mocking her bitter mood, the mouthwatering scent of whipped lemon cream pastries wafted over to her from one of the stalls.
Her stomach growled, but she ignored it.
“I’ve never worked a day in my life, Zory.” She wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to ward off the goosebumps pebbling across her flesh. “Employment is for…”
Not for someone lesser, exactly. But definitely not for her.
“For everyone else?” Zoryana suggested, pausing to run her fingers along a bolt of vermillion silk, a color that would look decidedly gorgeous against the deep bronze of her skin.
Everinne sighed, shoving her dark waves back from her face. “It sounds awful when you put it that way.”
Zoryana’s berry lips twisted to the side. “Working sounds awful in general.”
She reached into the navy leather satchel slung over her shoulder and handed some notes to the vendor. In return, he put the entire bolt of silk into a brown paper bag, then passed it to her.
Everinne grinned. “What are you going to do with a whole bolt of fabric?”
“I’m not sure exactly.” Zoryana shrugged, shifting the bag from one hand to the other. “I suppose I’ll have to ask my dressmaker.”
She took one step forward, then stopped suddenly, grabbing Everinne’s arm. “That’s it!”
Everinne glanced over at her, confusion knitting across her brow. “What’s it?”
“Dresses, of course! You could see if Whispering Threads is hiring.” Zoryana linked their arms together and started walking, taking Everinne along with her. “You love their clothing, and I know you already own a dress from almost every collection. Plus, I bet you’d get an amazing discount.”
“Yes.” Everinne laughed, but it sounded hollow to her ears. “And then everything I make would be spent on the latest style.”
“Mm, that would be unfortunate.” Zoryana led her further down the cobblestone walk of the district.
The air was slightly tinged by the scent of the sea as they neared the harbor of the Ladova Bay.
She snapped her fingers. “Oh, what about that adorable atelier a few streets over? The one with all the magical baubles?”
“Belladonna’s?”
“That’s the one. Everything she creates is unique and one of a kind. Rare.” Zoryana leaned in close, her smile soft as she winked. “Like you.”
Her implied intention was not lost on Everinne. “Isn’t she a witch?”
She wasn’t entirely sure if a witch would be willing to hire a fae. It wasn’t as though they weren’t amiable with one another, but witches were often demanding and held everyone to tremendously high expectations. Whereas Everinne had been known to disappoint on more than one occasion.
“Yes,” Zoryana drew the word out, then winked. “But I’m a witch. I could put in a good word for you.”
“I suppose it’s not too bad of an idea. And I do love her wares.
” Everinne had been inside Belladonna’s Atelier a number of times and was always utterly fascinated.
Belladonna had a remarkable assortment of enchanted crowns, glass baubles that would reflect the owner’s favorite place, charmed jewelry, and other wondrous items she’d spelled with her magic.
“Okay, yes. Let’s go see Belladonna, and if she says no, I can always see about getting a position at the Dancing Nymph. ”
“Ever!” Zoryana clutched one hand to her heart as though she’d be thoroughly scandalized. Her jade gaze darted around their general vicinity. “Keep your voice down.”
Everinne smirked.
The Dancing Nymph was one of Starysa’s notorious parlors, for lack of a better word, where females and males alike took part in the art of provocative dancing.
They performed on stages in elaborate costumes, slowly stripping away one piece of clothing at a time, until they were eventually fully nude.
Everinne had never been to the Dancing Nymph, but she imagined there was quite a bit of money to be made if one was willing to dance naked for its patrons.
“I bet I’d be pretty damn good at it.” Everinne started to move and sway her hips, and Zoryana laughed, joining her in dancing to the whistling wind and call of the sea.
Everinne shimmied once, then spun, bumping soundly into something solid. At first, she thought she’d knocked into one of the vendor’s stalls, but then a firm hand gripped her shoulder.
“Nice moves.”
That voice .
Dark, icy, and dangerous.
She caught the flash of silver skull rings before turning to come face to face with Jarek Zima, the demon summoner.
“Imagine seeing you here,” Jarek mused, biting into the flesh of a golden peach. Its shimmery juices clung to the corner of his mouth, and he swiped his thumb along his bottom lip, licking it clean.
From beside her, Zoryana made an indiscernible noise.
Everinne blinked, forcing herself to look anywhere but at his mouth. “Skulls, I mean…Jarek. What are you…” She glanced up and down the market’s street. “What are you doing here?”
He gave the peach a little squeeze, then took another slow, if not slightly intentional, bite. Licking his lips, he grinned. “Shopping.”
Zoryana cleared her throat, shuffling closer.
“Oh, apologies, Zory.” Everinne turned toward Zoryana, gesturing to her friend who was practically salivating at the sight of the man eating his piece of fruit. “Jarek, this is my best friend, Zoryana Daleth.”
“It’s a pleasure,” he murmured, leaning casually against one of the stalls.
He kicked one leg out, crossing it over the other.
His sleek black pants were stitched around the pockets with silver thread, and he’d tucked in his smoke gray shirt.
Despite the cooler temperatures, he wore no coat and his rolled sleeves revealed toned forearms. “Where are you ladies off to this fine afternoon?”
Jarek tossed the rest of his peach into a bin behind the stall, ignoring the furious scowl from the vendor on the other side.
Everinne pointed toward the end of the market square, where the road split off in different directions near the harbor. “We were about to head over to Belladonna’s Atelier.”
He tilted his head, a loose strand of dark brown hair falling across his face. “That’s the shop with all the magical baubles and quirky gifts, right?”
“That’s the one.” Though she wouldn’t call Belladonna’s quirky—extraordinary maybe, but not quirky. “It’s a favorite of mine.”
Jarek nodded, his molten gaze flicking to Zoryana then fixating on Everinne. “Anything in particular you’re looking to buy? I hear she designs these crystal spheres that look like you’re holding the world in the palm of your hands.”
Everinne glanced at Zoryana, and a slight frown marred her forehead.
Where before she was damn near salivating at the sight of him, now she was studying his manner, noting the skull rings on his fingers, and the constant cold permeating the air around them.
Her brows pinched and the jade of her eyes darkened.
She shared a look with Everinne, one she recognized well.
Warning.
“Actually,” Everinne twisted the ends of her hair together, tossing it over one shoulder. “I was going to inquire about a job.”
A stab of shame pierced her, flushing her cheeks.
Jarek didn’t seem to notice or care. Instead, he shoved off the stall and stepped forward, towering over her. “Are you looking?”
Everinne rolled her shoulders back, refusing to acknowledge the sting of her own humiliation.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, studying her. “You want to work at a place like Belladonna’s?”
“And what’s wrong with that?” Zoryana slung her satchel of fabric over one shoulder and crossed her arms, glaring up at him. “Belladonna runs a perfectly respectable shop, just because she’s a witch, doesn’t mean?—”