Chapter Seventeen #2
My heart pounding out of my chest and my ears heating, I try my best to give them a carefree smile.
“Sorry to intrude,” I start to say, but I can hear Jordan’s voice getting closer and closer.
I rip the ribbon out of my hair quickly, letting my hair fall into my face, and I angle towards the window, keeping my head low.
“I honestly can’t believe we aren’t opening for the Phantoms,” Jordan says, as he and his band make their way to the front of the restaurant.
“Voracious Maw is such a fake act. I don’t understand why all these women are drooling over them when they’re obviously all gay,” Jinx complains.
The rest of them let out barks of laughter and I cringe, able to pick out Jordan’s laugh over the others. It skitters across my skin, making me want to curl up in the fetal position. Just leave already, I beg.
Finally Dead Hearts leave, the door swinging shut loudly behind them. I find Reese’s eyes. She’s spotted me and knows I almost just ran into Jordan. She’s heading this way, so I get up out of the booth, looking at the guy across from me.
He’s got a shaggy haircut, and his wide brown eyes are staring at me.
“I’m sorry. Thanks for, uh, letting me crash at your booth for a bit.
” I hastily scurry away from them, feeling their eyes at my back, and practically run into Reese’s arms. She gives me a huge hug and after confirming the coast is clear and Dead Hearts isn’t lingering outside the restaurant, we head out as well to where the rest of our band has gathered.
Seriously, this place is huge—what are the odds we’d run into Dead Hearts?
“Hey, wait!” a distinctively British voice calls. I turn and see the brown-eyed guy headed our way. We’ve gathered outside the doors to the restaurant and he comes to a stop just in front of me.
Reese gives him a once over. She turns and explains to Amelia what just happened. They keep their voices hushed.
“Hey, I’m seriously so sorry about that. My ex, he was in the next booth over, and I uh—”
He holds up a hand to stop me from having to explain.
“No worries. We figured it was something like that. Glad we could give you cover for a little bit.” He smiles warmly at me and I can’t help but notice he is entirely too good-looking and probably knows it.
He’s quite a few inches taller than me, probably about my age, and obviously works out.
Tattoos unsurprisingly cover most of his exposed light skin.
“I’ve actually been meaning to track you all down,” he says, looking over at the rest of the group then back to me.
“You’re Goddess’ Trance, yeah? Are you the vocalist? ”
I shake my head, pointing over my shoulder at my sister. “Nope, that’s Amelia over there.” I offer my hand to him. “I’m Bliss, the band manager.”
“Any relation to you?” he asks, looking between us.
I nod, smiling. “She’s my older sister.”
“But not by much,” Amelia adds, coming over and putting an arm around me.
The guy nods, shaking my hand and then Amelia’s. “I’m Simon. I’m the drum tech for Voracious Maw, but I’m filling in for the manager. He couldn’t make it out for the festival.”
Voracious Maw?
I squash down the excitement that’s coming both from the mention of one of my favorite bands and also the nervousness of the real reason I’m here. Simon would be a very good friend to have indeed.
“That sucks. I hope he feels better soon,” I say, forcing myself to speak slowly. “It’s good to meet you, though. Was that the band in there with you?”
Simon gives a small chuckle and scratches the back of his head. “Uh—erm, no, just some of the crew we travel with.”
Amelia and I exchange glances. Simon is real bad at lying.
Damn, I should have paid more attention to who was in that booth.
I try to think back to the moment I sat down, but I was so embarrassed at what I’d done that I wasn’t able to meet any of their eyes.
What if I’d sat down right next to Wrath?
I want to both cry and laugh at the same time.
It’s not like I could have pulled off whatever theft the wraith wanted me to do in a restaurant booth. I didn’t even know yet what I was supposed to steal. Part of me also wasn’t sure I could even go through with it.
But also, what if I had sat down next to Wrath and all he saw was a super embarrassed, red-faced random crazy girl?
I let out a sigh. Is that really what my brain thinks is most important? That I might have embarrassed myself in front of my favorite musician of all time?
Well, actually, when I put it that way, my cheeks start to redden all over again.
“I was hoping we could go over your set list, if possible?” Simon interjects, putting a stop to my spiral. “Just want to know what the vibe of your show will be.”
“Does it matter?” I ask.
Simon shrugs. “Not really, just curious at what the crowd will be feeling already when the boys get on stage.”
“Probably lust,” Dericia chimes in. We all laugh.
Except Simon, who looks around at us, plainly confused.
Amelia puts a hand on her chest. “I’m a succubus, so the crowd will be lusting after me especially by the time I’m done, and then Wrath will get on stage with those pants, you know the ones—” She looks over at me as if I’m not getting it.
“Bliss, you know the ones, the flowy ones that show everything.”
I put a hand over her mouth to shut her up, as my face threatens to turn red for a third or fourth time—I’ve lost count. “I’ll send over the set list for you, okay?”
Simon looks between us and nods, seeming a bit amused but also still confused.
“If you’re not busy tomorrow, there’s that scavenger hunt for fans to win free stuff and backstage passes and all that.
We could use some more volunteers, and it’s a great way for you to connect with fans. If you haven’t already signed up?”
“We’re all signed up for that,” I respond.
Amelia groans. “Don’t we have to be there super early?” she laments. I just chuckle and pat her on the back.
Simon’s eyes roam over Amelia, squinting a bit. “So can succubi seduce anyone?”
Amelia raises her eyebrows. “Not exactly. If someone isn’t attracted to us, we can increase their lust, but it would just make them lust after the type of person they like.
We can usually coax out the type of feelings someone might experience after a good orgasm—” Simon’s cheeks flush to the same shade as mine, “—happiness, contentment, peacefulness—you get the picture.”
“So you can’t, like, mind-control someone?” he asks.
Amelia lets out a laugh. “We have that same fae compulsion all fae have, and we can use our powers to influence people, but nothing as powerful as mind control. You’re safe from us, little human.”
“Oh good,” Simon says, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “I’m pretty newly registered, so I haven’t met a succubus before. And this is my first fae festival.” He lowers his voice as he says the last part. Amelia and I both laugh.
“You don’t have to worry about non-kindreds hearing you.
Fae have a natural compulsion ability that makes it so most humans forget anything weird they see or hear about us, except for kindreds, of course.
That’s why you get that rune.” Amelia points to his wrist, where a rune matching Dericia’s glows.
His is extra bright, showing how new he is.
It takes a few years for the rune’s glow to fade.
“Really?” Simon asks, eyes widening. “That’s super fucking cool.”
Dericia slings her arm around me, frowning at Simon’s rune. “Didn’t your sponsor go over that with you?”
Simon shakes his head. “My sponsor, well, he’s… unique, I’ll say.” He laughs but seems to really brighten up at seeing Reese. “So you’re a fellow kindred?” he asks.
Reese holds out her arm, showing him her rune, which has faded to a pretty unnoticeable scar.
But as she concentrates on it, it flares to life, flashing a bright golden white light and fading again.
Simon’s eyes go so wide they’re at risk of falling out.
“Teach me how to do that,” he breathes out excitedly.
“Sure,” she says, giving him a smile. “But then we’re really going to need to talk to your sponsor. He should have taught you this.”
Simon nods excitedly, and they keep chatting about all things kindred.
Something pricks at the back of my vision and I close my eyes, trying to clear the sensation. When I open my eyes, I find a pair of blue violet eyes watching me.
I excuse myself with a lie about wanting to get a look at one of the stages that’s being built on the festival grounds across the street.
I leave before anyone can volunteer to go with me, seeing the wraith kick off the wall he was leaning on and walking over to a little grassy area behind one of the stages.
Lots of people are already out making the most of the sun and warm temperature.
Dylan—I refuse to believe that’s his actual name—sits down at a picnic table, somewhat hidden by a cluster of trees. I stop a few paces away from the table.
“Glad to see you’ve decided to take me up on my offer,” he says without greeting.
“I didn’t say I had.”
“You are here, are you not?”
“Maybe I’m just here because I want to be,” I fire back.
His lips lift a bit in a soft smile. “Let us not waste each other’s time.”
I huff out a breath of frustration and reluctantly sit across from him. I hate picnic tables. They’re so awkward to get in and out of, but somehow the wraith managed to do it gracefully. I, on the other hand, not so much.
I glare at him once I’m settled in. “So get to the point.” I avert my eyes after I say it, remembering just who I’m talking to.
I did some research after making a deal with the devil, and based on what I know about him, I probably shouldn’t poke at him.
He’s not just any wraith. He’s a song wraith, one of the strongest and rarest known to fae kind.
He cocks his head to the side in that preternatural way at my sudden change in demeanor, but he doesn’t comment.
“Are you going to tell me what I need to steal?” I ask, forcing a more polite tone.
The corners of his mouth twitch upward. “Tears that strongly flow, released in grief’s throe, a stone that only grows, where a seed never sows, blood taken, from the ascended,” he recites.
“Excuse me?” From my research, song wraiths are partial to poetry and music or any combination thereof.
“It’s what I need you to steal.”
“A poem?”
“No, it’s a list of ingredients.”
“Why not just tell me what the ingredients are?” I demand. “Being cryptic isn’t going to help you get what you want any faster.” So much for polite.
“Hmm.” He shrugs. “I am a patient creature.”
I continue to glare, unable to help myself.
“I shall be quick, then, for your sake. The poem is a list of ingredients that I need. I have not yet determined exactly what they all are, except the first. Tears.”
“Tears?” I ask when he doesn’t elaborate. Quick my ass.
“I need you to collect Wrath’s tears,” he says as if it’s obvious.
“His tears?” I ask again. “What for?”
“That part is not any of your concern. But fae with ties to the water element have very strong tears. I need his.”
“So is Wrath a water nymph, or a water elemental or something?” That will help narrow down who the guy actually is. “I still haven’t agreed to this,” I remind him.
He quirks an eyebrow at me but says nothing.
“I’m not going to do anything that will harm anyone. I need to know what you’re using the tears for.”
“I cannot tell you that. But I will promise that no harm shall come to you or Wrath. And a wraith’s promise is binding.”
“No harm can come to anyone,” I respond, crossing my arms. What if tears from certain fae are extremely dangerous? This is something Liz would probably have lots of information on, but I never studied potions or anything similar.
“I promise I mean no innocents any harm, and I promise no harm shall come to you or Wrath. That is the best I can do.”
My gut twists.
“I know you probably won’t believe it, but my intentions are honorable,” he adds.
I eye him warily, but my gut unclenches with his words.
For some reason I believe him. And this is my life we are talking about.
If I remain a succubus with no mate, I’m as good as dead.
Or I’ll have to spend my life hooking up with people I don’t want to be hooking up with.
And then I might wish I was dead. So really, when it comes down to it, don’t I deserve to live? Don’t I deserve to be happy?
“Okay, I’m in,” I say, reaching out my hand.
I don’t know if this is strictly necessary to seal our deal, but the wraith extends his hand, gripping mine.
Something about his touch is feather light, but we pull away before I can ruminate on it.
The bargain is officially struck and now I have to collect Wrath’s tears.
“Have you figured out who Wrath really is?”
“I trust you will do what you need to accomplish this.”
I’m about to respond to that cryptic statement when, out of the corner of my eye, I see Dericia and Amelia coming up the path towards where I’m sitting. When I look back at the wraith, he’s no longer there.
“Thanks a lot,” I mutter.
How the hell am I supposed to steal tears from someone whose identity I don’t even know?