Chapter 11
Eleven
E verinne was on a thrill-seeking high and decided she never wanted to come back down.
Dancing on the hoops at the Mystic Obscura had been all she ever wanted and more.
She’d never felt more alive. More free. And best of all, for those fleeting moments when she’d been floating above the grand theater impressing the audience with visual delights, her violent magic had been all but forgotten.
Reine had seemed genuinely impressed, offering her a small purse of silver and gold coins for her performance with the promise of notes so long as Everinne continued to awe the patrons each time.
It was the first time she’d been in possession of her own money, and she had to admit, the sense of independence was something she could get used to—maybe she should thank Veros for cutting her off.
She’d even made a new friend.
Aisling had been both welcoming and kind, and while Everinne had been appreciative of her friendly demeanor, a small part of her wondered how long it would last. She never kept friends past a few seasons.
Eventually, she shoved them away, severing the relationship before it could fully take root to bloom and grow. She was a rot. A poison.
“So,” Jarek drawled, “what did you think of the Mystic Obscura?”
He’d offered to drive her home after she performed, and now they were sitting in his arcane-powered vehicle, the gentle hum of magic filling Everinne’s ears. His wasn’t nearly as luxurious as Atlas’s valade , but the two-seated vehicle was just as stylish, if not just as expensive.
She tipped her head back against the leather seat, a faint sigh slipping from between her lips. “Mesmerizing.”
It was the only possible word to describe it.
Jarek faced her, draping one arm over the steering wheel. Darkness loomed, blanketing the city streets, but in the distance, the glow of dawn was just beginning to crest. His eyes fixated on her, warm like melted gold.
“Mesmerizing,” he repeated, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Yeah. You were.”
Everinne allowed his compliment to slide without acknowledging it.
Jarek’s flirtations hadn’t gone unnoticed and had become slightly more obvious as the evening progressed, but Everinne found she was no longer in the mood for a one-night stand with him.
She’d been intoxicated and pissed off the first night she wanted to take him home, but now she wasn’t entirely sure about sharing her bed with a demon summoner.
Besides, if Veros found out, there was a good chance he’d kill her. Or ship her off to some other realm as punishment. He would never allow such blatant disrespect to stand.
“Reine is fabulous, too.” She tugged on the exceedingly short hem of her dress. “I still can’t believe she agreed to let me work five nights a week.”
With that kind of money, she wouldn’t have to ask Veros for anything ever again. She could buy her own clothing, her own shoes, and her own jewelry. She could stock her pantry with cakes and her cupboards with honeyfire if she wanted. Her sense of freedom knew no bounds.
“Thanks for the ride home.” She reached for the door to make her getaway when Jarek snagged her wrist.
His cold fingers curled around her flesh, chilling her.
“Need me to walk you up?” His offer wasn’t laced with charm or innuendo, but she denied him all the same.
“I’ll be fine, thanks.”
He released her arm, and she pushed open the door, then climbed out into the blustery night. “I’m going to have a drink then head to bed.”
Jarek watched her a moment longer, his mouth lifting into a smile. “Fair enough. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Everinne shivered. “Tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” His grin widened, one brow arching. “At work.”
She hadn’t realized he worked at the Mystic Obscura as well. It never even occurred to her to ask him how he could even get into the exclusive parlor or how he knew Reine so well. She was really going to have to get better about that sort of thing.
“Right. Tomorrow.” She flashed a friendly smile. “Goodnight.”
“Night, Everinne.”
Closing the door of his vehicle behind her, she darted up the front steps of her apartment building, her heels clicking noisily against the rough stone.
Once inside, she avoided the lift and started up the seven flights of stairs, even though her legs were on fire from hoop dancing.
Halfway up, her thighs were already shaking and her knees felt ready to give out.
She paused to catch her breath, gripping the wooden railing before continuing her trek to the top floor.
When she finally made it to her apartment, she shoved open the door and stumbled in, loosing a sigh of relief.
She let the door catch her weight as it closed, sagging against it.
If she was going to keep working at the Mystic Obscura and climbing all those stairs nightly, she was definitely going to have to improve her stamina.
Maybe she should start training…
But first, a shot of honeyfire, and then bed.
“Did you have fun tonight?” a low, masculine voice rumbled from the penetrating darkness of her apartment.
Everinne startled, her heart hammering against the tight wall of her chest, and her blood turned to ice.
She plastered herself against the door, a spike of terror running straight through her.
With practiced ease, she slid her thumb along the band of her amethyst ring, a faint clicking sound echoing in the stillness as the blade sprung loose.
Her eyes strained into the pitch of the kitchen, searching for something—an unfamiliar shadow, or the barest of movements.
Anything to give her some idea of where the intruder was hiding.
“What do you want?” she demanded, slinking closer to where she knew the small round table was located. She kept her right hand coiled into a fist, ready to strike, while the other remained stretched out to her side, grabbing only air.
Fuck, why was it so dark in here?
And why in the stars weren’t her candles illuminating? Usually, they flickered to life as soon as she walked through the door. She’d bought them from one of the witchy stores in the shopping district for that exact reason. She hated the dark.
“You should really learn to lock your door,” the deep voice mused, his threatening whisper coming from her right.
At least, she thought that’s where the voice came from.
Everinne turned in a slow circle, panic lodging in the back of her throat.
She bit down on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling until the metallic tang of blood coated her tongue.
Her breathing grew shallow, each breath becoming more difficult to control as the ruthless beast she kept caged inside of her slowly awoke.
Frenzied, brutal magic poured through her veins, primed for release.
It slid from within her like a venomous serpent, coiling around her tightly, ready to strike.
Sinister power crawled along her skin, stretching out in vicious tendrils on the hunt for its prey.
Her thread of control wavered, then frayed, and her lungs hollowed out.
Everinne squeezed her eyes shut, and the darkness she possessed sunk its vicious claws into her mind, beckoning her to surrender to her violent nature.
It would be so easy to crush bones until there was nothing left but ash and dust. Easy and lovely.
With a flick of her wrist, she could render a beating heart into a pulpy mess, inflicting a pain so torturous and devastating, her victim would beg for mercy.
Until she finally granted it, by shattering their minds.
Her emotions fueled her magic, and the dread bubbling up inside her coaxed the fiend inside her to life.
Pain , it whispered.
She gritted her teeth and her eyes flew open. Shuddering, she desperately tried to restrain the terror slipping from her grasp.
Everinne swore her power leered at her. Mocked her.
She was touched by death.
“I can hear the erratic beating of your heart. Which can only mean one of two things.” The voice wrapped around her like tempting silk, soft and seductive. “Either I frighten you…”
Warm breath coasted across her neck and she whirled, but no one was there. She sucked in a ragged gulp of air, fighting against only herself.
“Or?” she prompted, angling the blade of her ring, prepared to lash out.
“Or I excite you.” Phantom fingertips grazed her waist.
Blind fury ricocheted through her.
“In your dreams, you cock-sucking bastard.” Everinne lunged.
The attacker knocked her hand away and her balance faltered. Her heels slid against the hardwood floor, and she cried out. She stumbled backward, smacking her head against the wall as tiny stars danced before her eyes.
A strong arm snared both of her wrists, yanking them up over her head, pinning her in place. She struggled, thrashing against the assault, until two fingers hooked her chin, forcing her head up.
There was the click of a tongue.
“Attacking the imperial prince is a death sentence, Wildheart.”
Everinne froze. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach and all at once, the scent of cedar layered with delicious citrus and a hint of spice consumed her.
“Atlas,” she hissed, trying to free herself from his hold. His grip on her wrists only tightened. She peered up into the faceless dark, where she knew he towered above her, even with the extra height from her damned shoes. “What in the bleeding skies do you think you’re doing?”
“I could ask the same of you,” he fired back, that seductive voice of his fueled with venom.
“I live here.” She sucked in another ragged breath. Damn it, his overwhelming scent was everywhere. Impossible to escape. Just like him. “I’m getting ready for bed and?—”
“And flirting with a demon summoner?” he interjected. The contempt in his tone left her recoiling.
A single globe of fire spit and sparked from one of her candles, dousing half of him in shadows and the rest in a wash of warm light.