Chapter Eight #3
“You’ve got the look all recently activated fae get. The prolonged eye contact as you search for runes gives you away.”
A blush ripples underneath my skin, and I look away. “Sorry,” I mutter.
“It’s hardly your fault. You’re all so eager to find your mates. I think it’s nice.”
I glance back at him. He’s smiling kindly and I feel a bit of easiness creep back into me. I let out a little laugh. “It’s a bit pathetic, though, isn’t it?”
“Maybe a little. But aren’t we all?”
My smile widens. “So no mini quiches?”
“No, they’re burnt on the inside, if you can imagine.”
I pick mine up and examine it, pulling it apart, and sure enough, the inside is somehow blackened. “Some sort of English fae delicacy?” I ask.
The stranger winks at me. He nods over to an empty spot on the wall where we can chat out of the way of the buffet table.
“I’m Bliss,” I say, extending my hand. He takes it and instead of shaking it, places a kiss on top of it.
“Dylan,” he replies, letting my hand drop.
“Have you found your bondmate?” I ask, my eyes going to his again. Fae can’t see the runes of another bonded pair, but I still look intently as if I could.
“No, I’m unfortunately not so lucky.”
I nod in agreement, but I don’t say anything about my weird bond. I don’t think I could take the pity he’d likely offer.
I’m about to ask what brought him to this party when a familiar howl of laughter pierces into me.
My back goes ramrod straight, and the plate falls out of my hands, smashing to the ground.
My fingers and toes have gone almost numb.
Everyone’s eyes fall to me and Dylan as a cater waiter rushes forward and cleans it up.
“Very sorry, friend, she just took a bite of the mini quiche,” Dylan says to the waiter, who nods, despite wearing a baffled expression.
Dylan steers me out of the room and down a hallway as I search for Jordan. I know that laugh. He’s here, somewhere. “I need to go.” I pull Dylan to a stop. “Sorry, I need to get out of here.”
“He’s not your mate,” Dylan says lowly. His voice has changed, but I can’t quite put my finger on the difference.
I turn around, catching that his expression has shifted from friendly to… bored? No. That’s not it. The hair on the back of my neck prickles. “What?” I take a small step backwards.
“Your ex, he’s not your mate.” My eyes narrow as I place the shift in tone. The earlier ease and kindness have disappeared from his voice.
“How do you know who my ex is?” I take another step back, watching him warily.
Dylan doesn’t move, just cocks his head at me. “Tell me, Bliss. Do you enjoy being a succubus?”
My shoulders tense. It’s not entirely crazy that he’d clock my species.
Succubi don’t have distinguishing markers like warlocks and vampires, but sometimes our scent gives us away to an experienced fae.
Other succubi have always smelled rich and warm to me, but in slightly different ways.
How the hell does this guy know about Jordan, though?
“Are you a friend of his?”
Dylan looks off the way we came, where Jordan no doubt is enjoying the party. I should have assumed he’d be here. His family has amazing connections within the fae council and this is a party held for all fae in this prestigious circle. “I am offended you would think such a thing. No, I am not.”
My brows raise. “How do you know he’s my ex?”
Dylan leans against the wall, glancing further down the hallway. “Unimportant. Now, answer my question, if you would be so kind.” His almost violet eyes narrow on me.
“Why do you care?” My feet shuffle backwards and I look over my shoulder, readying to bolt out of this hallway.
“I wouldn’t.”
I freeze in my tracks, but not of my own accord. It’s like something is physically wrapped around my feet, but there’s nothing there.
“Fine,” he continues, “I won’t waste either of our time. I think I have something you might like. And I’m willing to offer it to you for a very simple exchange.”
“And what is that?” I ask. “What do you think I want?”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Your mate.” He lifts off the wall, coming to stand in front of me.
“And I think when you are alone and can be completely honest with yourself…” He trails off as he leans down to be somewhat eye level with me.
“I think you wish you could be anything other than a succubus.”
I stay silent. Of course I want my mate. But how does this guy know I’ve fantasized about being anything but a succubus?
I’ve thought countless times about what it would be like to be a wolf shifter, or an elemental fae. A water nymph has always sounded appealing. But succubi are constantly treated less than, as sexual objects, or as sluts by other fae. So was it really a leap that a stranger might clue into that?
“So you’re good at reading people,” I fire back defensively.
“It’s not like you have any control over those things.
” I want to run. I want to leave this hallway, but my feet won’t budge.
What type of magic is he using on me? He hasn’t muttered any incantation, nor used any potion that I can see.
If he was an incubus, or a wolf shifter using his command, I would have felt his magic influencing me.
And fae compulsion only works on non-kindred humans.
His smile grows until I can see his sharp canines. “Oh but I do, Bliss. Your bond is encased in strong magic that cannot be broken through. Without my help you will not find your mate.”
How could he possibly know that? “Did Bridgely tell you that?”
He cocks his head again, his brow arching in confusion. But something tells me it’s forced, that his face isn’t used to making any expressions at all. “Bridgely?”
“So what? You were listening in?” An image of this dark-haired tall fae standing outside the room Bridgely performed the ritual in, with his ear pressed against the door, pops into my head, but it’s all wrong. He doesn’t seem like the type to need to do that somehow.
“I can see it.” He places a hand on my shoulder. The sensation is odd, like I can only feel the ghost of his touch. “Bliss, can you tell me what type of fae I am?”
I look him up and down and pull in a deep breath through my nose, trying to find a hint of something that’ll give it away. “No.”
“Because I’m not one.” He blinks and in a second his almost violet eyes are deep red.
I shrug his hand off and try to scramble back, but I still can’t move. I open my mouth to shout, but he wags a finger at me and suddenly I can’t make a sound.
“We still have much to discuss, Bliss.” He steps back, and with a wave of his hand a plush upholstered bench appears.
Without willing to, I take a seat and he sits beside me.
“I can help you. I can break apart the magic so you can find your mate. And, I can transform you into any type of fae you wish.”
He waves his hand again and suddenly I have my voice back. “And what? I just have to sell you my soul?”
“Wraiths don’t deal in souls that way, Bliss,” he says with a slight frown, as if he’s disappointed I don’t know that. “All I need is for you to collect something for me.”
I raise my brows at him. “Oh, is that all? And this something, would it be, oh say, I don’t know…
illegal?” I try to get my legs to stand up, but they won’t.
I sit back, crossing my arms and scowling at the wraith, attempting to act as if my heart isn’t hammering in my chest. A wraith?
I’ve heard rumors that fae sometimes still summon them.
That even after the fae council banished them, they found ways back into this realm.
I never knew if I believed that or not, but I guess now I have proof.
And if everything I know about wraiths is true, I need to get the hell out of here.
He seems to know where my thoughts have gone.
“No harm shall come to you at my hands, Bliss.” He unbuttons the middle button on his shirt jacket and relaxes back into the bench more.
“If you agree, you can have everything you’ve ever wanted.
Being a water nymph would suit you. You and your bond can retire to some coastal town together and you’d never need to be powerless a day in your life. ”
Since I’m stuck here, I allow my curiosity to run away from me, distracting me from my fear and helping me bide my time until he releases me. “And what would I need to collect?”
He holds up a finger. “That I cannot tell you just yet. But I can tell you who you’d need to collect it from.”
“It sounds an awful lot like I’d need to steal something illegal from someone.”
A grin teases his lips again. “Not illegal. Something powerful. Something he will willingly part from, I think.”
“He?”
His grin widens. “Wrath.”
“Wrath?” Wrath? He doesn’t mean— “You mean Wrath from Voracious Maw?”
Dylan—if that’s even his name—nods. “The one and only.”
“Why?”
“He has something I need. And I think you’re the perfect person to get it.” What does that mean?
I shake my head. If I say no, am I even walking out of this hallway? “Why don’t you steal it?” Yeah, why doesn’t he? A wraith this powerful, it shouldn’t be a problem.
“All will be revealed in time, Bliss.”
“The fuck it will. I’m not doing it. Besides, you want me to steal something from a guy in an anonymous band? Unless you know his identity, how would I even get close enough?”
Dylan’s small grin grows wider and he leans in as if he’s sharing a secret.
“This is exactly why you’re perfect for it.
Voracious Maw will be at the Alchemy Festival.
It’s the perfect place to rub elbows with other bands.
And I know of just the band. Goddess’ Trance.
You can resume your position as their manager.
It’ll give you all the access you need to meet Wrath and get close enough to him to get what I need. ”
I notice the wraith has loosened up his magic on my legs, so I stand up. “Well, sorry to let you down, but I’m not on speaking terms with my sister. Too bad. You’ll have to find someone else.” It’s not totally a lie. I’m mad at her and ignoring her texts, at least for the day.
“Hmm,” the wraith mutters, standing with me. “No, that is not ideal. I’d suggest you get back on speaking terms, then.”
“I haven’t agreed to this, remember? Besides, my sister’s band isn’t even going to that festival.”
“Don’t worry about that part,” Dylan says with a wave of his hand.
“Take a day, think it over.” The bench we sat on disappears and the wraith walks down the hall, opposite to the way the festivities are being held.
“But Bliss, if you think the fae council will be able to fix your bond, you’re sorely mistaken.
They do not care about your bond. And even if they did, the magic affixed to your bond is stronger than they know how to deal with. ”
“How do I know you’re not the one interfering?”
He shrugs. “I am not. But if I was, then maybe it would be wise to accept my bargain.”
With that he vanishes from sight, leaving the hallway empty aside from me. Oddly, every picture, every vase, every piece of overly expensive ornamentation that decorated the hallway is also gone. Has he taken it all with him?
“Bliss?” Liz’s voice calls from the other direction. I spin around, seeing my aunt and a man with graying hair walk into the now empty hallway. It’s almost as if the wraith knew they’d be approaching.
Liz and I meet in the middle. “You ready to go home?” she asks me. I nod, not trusting myself to speak just yet. The man turns this way and that as his eyes take in everything missing from the space.
“What the bloody hell?” the man splutters, looking at me. “Where did all the furniture and decor go?”
Liz throws him a glare. “What do you mean?”
“There were paintings and side tables. Vases.” He spins around and walks a few steps down the hall, as if he could view the hallway from a different angle and all would be back in its place.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I was just looking for my aunt.”
He looks to Liz. “This is Charlotte’s daughter, then?”
“Her youngest,” Liz replies with a nod.
He huffs and nods. “Very well,” he says with a cursory glance at me.
With unfortunate timing, a waiter picks that moment to walk down the hallway.
The gray-haired male reaches out, snagging the waiter by the collar, his tray going flying and the food crashing to the floor.
He spins the waiter around, his hand now on the back of his neck.
“Notice anything unusual?” he asks, his voice laced with seething anger.
“Yves,” Liz warns, putting herself between me and the male. So this is Yves Lyra, the head of the council. “Do you really think a waiter has had the time or the ability to rob a hallway while they’ve been shuttling food back and forth?”
Lyra turns his face back towards us. “He must have seen something. Well, boy? Did you see who was taking my property?”
The waiter, looking like he’s about to pee himself, shakes his head. “Everything was just here the last time I came this way. I swear.”
Lyra releases his grip on the waiter, who takes a shaky step backwards. “Go find me your manager, and clean this shit up.” The waiter nods and runs out of the hallway. Lyra stalks off without so much as a goodbye, shouting for someone else about the missing decor.
Liz takes my hand and leads me out of the hallway, shaking her head. “What the hell was that?” I ask.
“Yves Lyra,” she replies, as if that explains everything. We walk back towards the portal that leads to the fae council building. “Best to stay off his radar. He’s a purist and not a big fan of succubi.”
“Why?”
“Well, the purist part—because he’s an ass and was raised by asses. The succubi part—rumor has it when he was younger, he asked your mother out and she rejected him.”
“Sounds like a fucking prick,” I mutter. I can’t help but wonder how my mother ever crossed paths with him.
“He really is,” Liz says with a sigh. We reach the hallway portal and she motions for me to go through first. We find our way back to the first portal we used to get here.
When we come out on the other side, we’re back in the Starlight District and the bright afternoon sun has been replaced by early morning darkness.