CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Myra
Fire raged in my veins as I fought to stand.
If I hadn’t known Yael needed me alive, the thought that he was trying to kill me would have crossed my fading mind.
I opened my mouth to ask another question, but a question never came.
Instead, vile acid spewed from my mouth, along with the bulk of everything I’d ingested that night.
My body convulsed like it was exorcising a demon, and I collapsed to my knees, retching in the middle of the sidewalk.
By the time I was done, I was exhausted and clammy, but both my mind and my body felt more like my own; drunk, but a normal drunk, not whatever the hell that had been before.
“What… was that?” I managed to ask as I struggled to my feet.
“Poison,” he said as he glanced at the mess I’d made on the sidewalk. “Larkspur, to be exact. It’s a rather effective emetic.”
“You fed me poison to sober me up?” I asked as I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. “That’s low, Yael, even for you. I would have been fine by tomorrow.”
“I’m sure you would have. It’s what would have happened between now and then that concerned me.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means I think it was more than your alcohol binge that had you acting funny.”
“Wait… are you saying you think some asshole spiked my drink?”
He nodded in response. “It’s a possibility. Unless you’re just a sloppy drunk.”
The desire to ask why someone would do that was strong at first, until I considered the past few days—then the answer seemed much more apparent. Cold dread shot through me and I shivered, knowing my night could have taken a dark turn had he not been there. A fact I would never acknowledge out loud.
“I mean, the only ones who handled my drinks tonight were my friends and the bartender, and he didn’t seem too interested.”
“I’m quite certain I’m more his type than you are, so I’m inclined to agree.”
“Cocky bastard—”
“That’s an interesting way of saying ‘thank you’, but fair enough all the same.” He reached his hand out to me and held it there, waiting for me to accept it. “You should be feeling more yourself, but I’m going to get you home—without argument, preferably.”
I looked at his gesture of aid as though it too might have been poison, then pushed off the wall on shaky legs. “I’m good.”
His eyes narrowed with skepticism. “Clearly.”
I stuffed my hands in my pockets and walked as quickly as my sluggish body would allow, wondering if I’d had yet another close call that evening; one that would have ended differently had Yael not shown up.
By the time I turned my attention back to our surroundings, I realized we weren’t headed to my apartment.
“Hey, we should have made a right back there.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“Then why didn’t you?” I asked, shooting him a sideward glance. “Are you taking a detour to the ocean? Maybe toss me in for a bit and watch me drown again as payback for the puke I got on your shoe?”
“I’m taking the long way because fresh air will do you some good,” he said before turning to meet my gaze, those inky black shadows snaking through his irises as he stared. “And if I wanted to see you struggle to breathe, love, I’d choke you myself.”
Something about the deep tenor of his voice when he said that sent a chill through me, leaving me equally excited and terrified at the thought.
Instead of unpacking that surprising combination, I blamed it on the chemicals still circulating in my system, doubled down on my typical antagonism, and notched my chin higher in challenge as I stopped dead in my tracks.
“You should give that a try and see how it works out for you.”
Something dangerous swam in his gaze as his hand drifted toward my neck like a grim omen.
But instead of wrapping around my throat and squeezing slowly to extinguish my life, his fingertips grazed my exposed flesh softly, sending another shiver through my body.
His touch stole my breath, and I closed my eyes and leaned into his palm reflexively, alcohol fueling my brazen behavior.
The warmth of it spread from his skin across my own, and in that moment, I knew I was flirting with disaster, but I didn’t care.
A voice in the back of my mind, as dark and dangerous as the look he’d given me, told me to push him further.
With no regard for the consequences, I obeyed it—until his hand curled around my throat and squeezed lightly in warning.
“Be careful what you freely offer up to a fae, Myra,” he said, voice low and gravelly and teeming with restraint.
“Not all have the self-control I possess.”
My eyes flew open to find a narrow stare appraising me. “When it suits your purpose.”
I pulled away from him, shoved my hands back in my pockets, and stormed off down the road to put some much-needed distance between us.
My addled mind warred with the ghost of his touch playing across my skin while I tried to make sense of what had just happened—what bizarre fascination had come over me.
Given the amount of alcohol still in my system, that wasn’t looking promising, so I opted for the next best tactic: evasion.
Of him.
Of the thoughts running rampant in my mind.
Of that warm sensation still coursing through my veins when I thought about his hand on my throat.
“What suits my purpose at the moment is finding out what’s gotten into you tonight and getting you home in one piece so you’re useful tomorrow.”
“And with any luck, that will be the last time I need to be useful where you’re concerned. You can find your precious sister and then send me back to the Deep—without drowning.”
He hesitated for a moment as he stared off into the darkness ahead. “With any luck.”
The anger I’d momentarily forgotten I harbored against him bubbled to the surface at his glib response, cleansing that mysterious warmth from my body altogether. “I don’t need a babysitter, you know. I’m good now. I can get home just fine, even if I’m still a little tipsy.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure your keen senses are as sharp as a tack at the moment. So keen, in fact, that you’d undoubtedly notice if you were being followed.”
“Am I?” I asked, fear prickling the back of my neck.
He peered at me from the corner of his eye. “My point exactly.”
“Seriously, Yael. Am I?”
“Why does that thought worry you so much?” he asked, pulling me to a stop to thrust his face in mine as though he could will the answer from me. “There’s something you’re not telling me—”
“I’m just on edge,” I replied, trying to pull out of his grasp. “The Playground will do that to a girl.”
“But you’re with me,” he said, loosening his grip. “Nobody would dare challenge you with me around.”
The anger that had been briefly eclipsed by fear sparked back to life at the irony of his earnest statement. “Oh yes, Yael, I’m sure every being in this neighborhood is just terrified of the flower fairy.”
The muscles in his jaw tensed at my insult as he let me go. “Be careful with that nickname, love. You wouldn't want to find out just how unfitting it is.”
I opened my mouth to taunt him further, but even though I was drunk and exhausted, I could see fury brewing in his glare—something vicious lurking in the depths of his deep green eyes that I had no desire to draw forth, even if he deserved it. Nothing about that would end well.
Instead, I picked up the pace yet again until I rounded the corner and saw my building in the distance. As we grew closer, I spotted the working girls congregating under the single functional streetlight on our block. The moment they clocked me coming, they started in on me.
The tallest of the crew, Tamara, stepped forward in a lime-green dress that was barely longer than her chestnut hair and grinned. “Hey, girlie! You doing okay? We’ve been worried about you.”
“I’m fine, Tam. No need to stress.”
“You sure? Because last night you looked—”
“I’m fine, I promise. Can we drop it?”
Vivian and Fiona stood just behind her in equally scandalous garments, watching with matching looks of concern as I approached. But as soon as Yael stepped up to flank me tightly, as though the three posed some kind of threat, their expressions changed in an instant.
“Well, well, well,” Fiona said with a wry smile, “what do we have here?”
“Is this why you’re fine?” Vivian asked, smoothing her perilously short skirt over her dark brown skin. “He sure is a pretty one… I bet he smells as good as he looks.”
“And tastes even better,” Tamara added with a mischievous grin. “How’d you manage to snag him?”
“I didn’t snag him,” I argued. “He’s more like a barnacle I can’t shake, so I’m stuck with him—for now.”
“I wouldn’t mind being stuck with him,” she replied. The hunger in her eyes as she looked him over was impossible to miss.
“See, little mermaid? These lovely ladies know a good thing when they see one.”
“They have an incredibly low bar, Yael. I wouldn’t get too excited.” I turned to the trio with an apologetic look. “No offense intended.”
“Low bar or not,” Fiona replied, “he’s a premium catch.”
“One that I’ll be throwing back as soon as I’m done with him.”
“I’ll take him off your hands right now if it would help out my favorite landlocked mermaid,” Vivian offered, stepping closer to run her hand down his lapel.
“I’m afraid I can’t tonight,” he said, pulling away gently. “I have to make sure your precious Myra gets home in one piece.”
“Oh, Myra… he’s chivalrous, too? You’d be a fool to let this one go.”
I was a fool to have ever made a deal with him…
“That’s me, Viv. Total fool. Make sure they engrave that on my headstone when he gets me killed.”
The energy around us changed in an instant as the girls’ flirty demeanor became fiery and protective. “Is that why you came home covered in blood last night?” Tamara asked, fire blooming from her hands. “Did he have something to do with that?”