Chapter 22 #2
Enjoying the energy of the tavern, I do just as I planned for a couple of hours—drink, flirt, and dance.
Kellan never shows up, making everything so much easier.
There are no piercing comments or long, heavy stares.
No innuendo or insults. I do what I want, and if a conversation gets too personal or I sense an invitation to go somewhere more private coming, I saunter off for another mug, leaving the flirtation behind.
There are already one too many brews in me when I decide I absolutely need to use the washroom.
I walk a little unsteadily toward the back of the tavern and hate the way my head spins.
I should’ve known better. This is when everything slows down instead of speeding up, and the hot, crowded rooms suddenly hold no appeal for me.
People reel to the live music, and I squint against the lantern light flashing in my eyes as they jump and twirl and spin each other around.
The aftertaste of all that dragon’s brew strikes me as bitter now, and I grimace, swallowing it down.
I have to cross three rooms, and each one feels interminable.
Finally slipping into the washroom, I take a second to breathe and clear my head.
It’s cooler and quieter here. I relieve myself, then go to the basin and spout to wash my hands and splash cold water over my face.
Water drips from my nose and chin as I look at myself in the old, speckled mirror, already feeling steadier.
I usually stop before the dragon’s brew that puts me over the edge, but tonight, I guess I just… didn’t.
I swipe the remaining water from my face. Kellan still hasn’t appeared, and none of us know where he is. At first, I enjoyed the freedom from the constant pressure of his focus on me, but now I’m worried about him.
Everyone else seems to be having a good time.
Wade found a battle-scarred, slightly older dragon shifter to go home with a few minutes ago.
I wasn’t surprised by the choice after seeing Wade’s face light up when talking to the man.
I have a feeling Danica is close to making a decision about the tall, blond dragon shifter who’s been sniffing around her all night.
And Maia and Arran only talk to each other in this place.
I never worry about having a ride back to Drayke Mountain because I know they’ll be right where I left them when I’m done flirting and dancing and want to go home.
The terrible mirror isn’t so cloudy that I can’t see the wry smile on my face.
Tonight, it’s been a little harder than usual to extricate myself from conversations once I’m done with them.
Kellan’s glowering presence usually helps drive men away from me.
It’s been more work without him, and the realization makes me wish he was here almost as much as I’m glad he’s not.
I’ve wondered sometimes if I’d actually leave with someone if Kellan wasn’t watching my every move, but tonight is proof that I wouldn’t.
Then again, no one compares to Bale Cinderheart.
Sighing, I give myself a sour look in the mirror, frustrated by my persistent obsession.
Since there’s no solving it—or dissolving it—tonight, I leave the washroom and plunge into the dim corridor.
A man peels himself off the wall and blocks my path, the narrow back hallway empty except for the two of us and one flickering lantern.
My pulse hammers out a warning beat, and my senses sharpen. Scowling, I try to slip past him and leave him access to the now-empty washroom, but he slides with me.
“Don’t be afraid.” He holds out his hands. His dark eyes don’t look menacing, but anyone blocking me in a tight corridor isn’t my friend.
“Get out of the way,” I snap.
“I need to talk to you.” He’s bigger than I am, tall, wide-shouldered, and sturdy with more muscle than most regular people pack on. I don’t see even a hint of exposed fangs, but every instinct in me screams vampire.
My heartbeat accelerates, and my recent wounds suddenly throb. Worse is the fear that freezes me solid. I back away from him as my mind turns into a tangle of too-sharp memories. Piercing fangs, lancing pain, terror, Rim.
“I don’t know you. We have no reason to talk.” I lift my chin, pretending panic isn’t rampaging through me.
“I can hear the blood hurtling through your veins.”
“Well, that’s reassuring.” Shuddering, I try to push past him.
“Idallia.” He grabs my arm, his tight hold pulling me close. “You’re in danger.”
Gasping, I rip myself from his grip and lurch back so hard I bump the wall. The lantern sways precariously, throwing nightmarish shadows down the corridor. “How do you know my name?”
“Everyone here knows your name. I simply had to ask the barkeep.” He holds up his hands again as though displaying their weaponless state makes them harmless. “I’m here to warn you. The Vampire King got wind of a sunblood among the Elite Wing. He knows it’s you.”
I stare, my heart pounding. “What’s a sunblood?”
“Those vampires that went into a frenzy over you? A few escaped and went back to Rannigan Bloodthief—with stories about how your blood smells like liquid sunlight and the sunshine we can never walk in. If that’s the scent, it’s the taste too.”
We? I guess I was right about him being a vampire.
Unsteady, I brace my hand against the wall. “Escaped?” Fear and confusion clash in my stomach along with too much dragon’s brew.
He cocks his head. “Didn’t your precious Dragon King tell you?”
Bristling, I straighten. Bale told me about the captives. I don’t remember him mentioning escapees. “There was a lot of chaos that night.” Bale probably suspects some vampires got away. I should’ve suspected. “How do you know any of this? Were you there? Do you work for the Vampire King?”
The disgust on his face can’t possibly be faked. “I have spies in Blackrock Keep.” His strong features pinching, he adds, “I watch Rannigan Bloodthief as carefully as Bale Cinderheart should.”
Whatever this man has against Bale isn’t my concern. “What’s a sunblood?” I ask more forcefully, my nerves starting to calm. The recent bites remain hot and achy, though, reminding me of every second of that horrific fight.
The vampire’s dark eyes dip over me, leaving me both worried and annoyingly warm.
I shift uneasily, taking him in with a cooler gaze than he offers me.
Neatly cut, wavy dark hair hugs his scalp.
Fine clothing fits a powerful, athletic frame.
His shoes don’t show a hint of scuffs or mud.
He’s clearly rich, confident, and knowledgeable about things that concern me too much.
His roving gaze stops on my throat, making my pulse leap again. “A sunblood is someone who shouldn’t exist. And it doesn’t matter unless the rarity applies to you. Let me taste you, and I can tell you more.”
A harsh noise erupts from me. “No fucking way.” Words in Bale’s deep voice suddenly echo in my head. Sunshine. Idallia. Behold the sun.
Sometimes unlocking full potential is dangerous. And changes everything.
What the fuck does Bale know? And why hasn’t he told me?
Another tremor works its way through me, and it’s all I can do not to show this man how much I quake.
“Don’t you want to know?” His brow furrows. “If it’s true, I’ll tell you all about how a sunblood is made.” Steady, commanding eyes bore into mine. He looks like a man in his prime, but I see age in those granite-cut eyes.
I shake my head, my heavy heartbeat resonating like a hundred drums in the hollow of my chest. I’m not nearly as clear-headed as I should be after all that dragon’s brew, but there’s no way I’m taking him at his word and letting him drink my blood.
It was easy for him to learn my name in this place, and it would be easy to obtain other information as well.
That I’m not a dragon shifter like the others.
That I was adopted and don’t know where I come from.
Maybe even that I’d just been set upon by vampires who went berserk—though that’s less likely news to have already gotten out.
Doubt scratches at my flushed skin. “You’re full of shit, and if you think you’re going to trick me into letting you suck my blood, you’re wrong. There’s no such thing as a sunblood.”
“I won’t hurt you.” His expression turns sympathetic, his gentle smile almost convincing. “I’ll only take a sip, and with your consent, I promise it’ll feel good.”
I swallow hard, warmth flooding me. His voice turns velvety, full of promise, and tension gathers low inside me despite not inviting it—or him—at all.
The tightening of my breasts and the unexpected pulse of desire mix horribly with the remembered terror of the feral attack on me.
The battle is still alive and screaming in my mind, and I don’t want this vampire anywhere near me.
“Those others couldn’t control themselves,” I say. Vivid flashes of wild eyes, grasping hands, and murderous fangs drive all flickers of arousal away. “You can’t either.”
His brows snap together. “I’m nothing like those vampires.” More calmly, he adds, “I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t need your help. Avoid getting bitten by vampires seems pretty intuitive to me.”
“You don’t understand. Sunbloods simply don’t happen. If you are one, there’s a story behind it, something big.”
“If they don’t happen,” I shoot back, “then your whole spiel here is a waste of time.”
“They shouldn’t happen,” he corrects. “Which is why you have to hide—or change.”
Change? “Hide where? In your own personal lodgings where I can be your blood host, and you can drink from me whenever you want?” I snort. “Nice try, asshole.”
“I’m from Fanghaven. I don’t drink without permission. And you’re making a huge mistake. Rannigan Bloodthief will come for you. He’ll want everything he can take from you—for centuries. Nowhere will be safe, not even your mountain with your Dragon King.”