Chapter Eleven #2
A group of guys in bedazzled dresses bound by, hollering and howling like wolves.
“Stay close,” True says, steering me in front of him with a possessive hand on my hip.
Unlike Pax, he seems to want to be closer to me when there are others around.
I shoot him a grateful smile over my shoulder, but before I can say anything, Pax’s hand closes around mine again.
This time, he pulls me through the crowd to a tavern with a sign that reads The Siren’s Song.
I follow Pax inside. It’s dark and damp and warm, the dance floor crowded with bodies grinding slow and rough against one another to the lonesome wails of Lita & the Banshees on stage.
The scent of beer and sweat is heavy in the air.
The atmosphere is loud and boisterous, though, and beams of colored lights slash through the air, illuminating the dance floor, the tables, the crowd as well as the band.
In a back corner, a few bar games are packed with people, and I can make out a couple leaned up against a table, her legs around his waist while he leans over her, his hips flexing.
Pretty sure I’ve officially seen someone having sex now.
Pax pulls me in front of him, using his body as a shield from the crowd. He leans a hand on the bar on either side of me, his chest pressing against my back.
“You smell good,” he murmurs into my ear, his voice low in his throat so only I can hear. “Like cookies.”
Before I lose my courage, I turn in his arms. The edge of the wooden bar presses into my back, but before Pax can step away, I slide my arms around his neck and link my hands.
“What are you doing?” he asks, looking guarded but just a bit pleased, his green eyes lighting up.
As our gazes lock, I can see the longing there.
The heat between our bodies is undeniable, unrelenting.
I want him, and I know he wants me. I know it.
And I have to do this before we start drinking.
If things go wrong, I can drown my sorrows afterwards, try to forget this night ever happened.
“I’m kissing you,” I whisper, as my heart climbs into my throat.
“We can’t,” he mouths, though it’s too loud to hear him in the tavern. Still, he sways forward until our bodies are flush with each other.
“Why not?” I ask, my lips brushing across his ear.
A shudder passes through his body, and his hands slide to my hips, squeezing me to him. I’m rewarded by feeling him growing hard against me. He wants me as much as I want him. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, breathing in the scent I put on earlier. “I can’t say.”
“Try,” I press, almost pleading.
He grips my waist, his gaze locking on mine. “Nessie…I can’t. I want to, but I can’t explain it.”
“You wouldn’t be no strings to me either,” I say, standing on tiptoes and leaning into him. “You would be all strings, Pax—”
“Stop,” he says.
Fuck.
I slide down to my heels and out from his embrace, all of the energy and excitement leaking out of me.
Pax admitted that he’s attracted to me, but his feelings clearly aren’t romantic, and he doesn’t want to lose our friendship.
It’s clear as day. I had to be plain deluded to not see it.
I’m trapped between an urge to flee far away from Pax and my feelings for him, and a need to reassure my friend that I’m always going to be his friend, even if he doesn’t want me the way I want him.
Leaning in, I wrap a hand around his forearm.
I think I might be crying, and I hope I’m not.
I want to keep it together so Pax doesn’t think I’ll fuck up our friendship because of my stupid crush.
“It’s fine, Pax,” I say, even though it’s not even close to fine. “Just forget I said anything. Please?”
Pax’s hand covers mine, and when I look up into his eyes, they’re churning with emotion. His arms slide around me once more, pulling me closer and up toward his mouth. “I’m never going to forget what you just said to me,” he promises. “Not if I live a millennia. It would be impossible.”
His breath is a caress across my lips, making my knees melt.
“Then what?” I ask, too frustrated to keep it from my voice.
Pax seizes me into his arms, his voice a tormented growl I didn’t know this happy-go-lucky boy could produce. “Fuck them all, Nessie. It’s you and me. Always you and me. I need to tell you something, and then you can decide for yourself whether or not you still want me.”
“Are you crazy?” I run my fingers through his golden hair, letting out a shaky laugh. “Pax, nothing you could tell me could make me not want you.”
He leans down, but before our lips meet, an arm wraps around me from behind, and I’m yanked off my feet. The room blurs around me, and shouts and screams erupt. Chaos moves through the room like a wave, screams and chairs scraping and students running towards the doors.
“The Wild Hunt is here,” someone shrieks in panic, scrambling across the floor on hands and knees.
Say what now?
I buck and try to punch and kick back, but whoever is holding me is much bigger than me, and I’m dangling in the air. My stomach flips, end over end, and the world blurs and then comes into focus again and again, as if I’m seeing it through a heat mirage.
I curl my hand into a fist and punch back, my massive jewel ring connecting with something solid. The body holding me staggers a step, loses balance, and then my side smashes into cobblestone.
I scramble to my feet to find a very familiar man gaining his own footing before me. We’re in an alleyway a few blocks over from the tavern. How we got here so fast, I can only guess. I’ve suspected since the beginning that Sharp Tooth Bradley was a supernatural of some sort.
“Fuck off,” I growl.
He draws himself to his full height, facing me, and I wonder why he’s not attacking. I’m smaller than him, helpless, and alone. Instead he sidesteps around me, like a lion might circle its prey before going in for the kill.
“What do you want with me?” I yell at him, to which he almost looks surprised.
“I can’t believe it,” he drawls, looking amused. “You actually don’t know. I told him that you must be the greatest actress in the world, but no, you’re actually that oblivious. Incredible.”
My lips start to tingle, my throat burns, my shoulder aches, and I have no idea what he’s talking about. “You told who?”
“The dragon king.”
“Dragon king?” I blink at the man, surprised he answered me so readily. “There are nine dragon kings in Wysongue. Which one?”
Scholars don’t learn as much as the liaisons do about the dragon court, but Professor Sinetar gave us an introductory lesson.
Each type of dragon has its own king and court, with the exception of moon dragons, who were hunted to extinction by humans and other supernaturals for their rare skin, which is still sold like a precious luxury on the black market today.
“There were nine kings,” Bradley says, looking unconcerned. “Now there will be only one.”
“Which one?”
“The Sun King, of course,” he says with a scoff, as if it’s obvious. “All the heirs will be of his kingdom.”
Suddenly, an unnaturally cool swirl of air circles me, and I gasp as strong hands grip my arms from behind.
“I’ve got her,” True yells, and I’m again launched off my feet.
“I’ve got your back,” Pax yells. “Go!”
My belly slams into True’s shoulder as he tosses me over it, and then his feet are pounding the cobblestones.
“What’s happening?” I cry.
There’s an ear-piercing cry, a flash of bright blue light, and scalding liquid spatters onto my cheek. I wipe it away, finding it crimson and viscous.
Whose blood?
“Pax,” I scream.
The lights go out, plunging us into darkness. Shrieks and yells echo from every direction. Racing footfalls sound. There’s clamor in the streets.
“The Wild Hunters are here,” explains a familiar, masculine voice beside us. I try to comprehend, but the fabled fae hunters are something out of a childhood fairytale to me, the boogeyman who will get you if you don’t come home by dark.
“Pax!” I scream.
“I’m here, Nessie,” he calls, his footsteps falling in on True’s other side, calming my panic.
The faint red glow of my ring is the only light, but I know the feel of Pax’s presence, my only comfort in this moment.
“It’s a trap,” True rumbles. “Take her through now.”
“Now?” Pax asks incredulously. “She’s not nearly ready for—”
“Now!” True commands, his voice almost a shout.
He literally tosses me through the air. I cry out as I’m airborne, but the next second, Pax catches me as we round the corner in the pandemonium. He races to the door of the alehouse where we came last time we went out. Heavy wooden doors crisscrossed with iron bars block our entrance this time.
“Where’s True?” I cry, glancing around into the darkness. A few people are running by, scattering in every direction.
“Fuck,” Pax mutters, glancing around before pounding on the door.
“Give him a second.”
I jerk around to see Professor Sinetar beside us.
My head spins with confusion, even more so when the door swings open before Pax can knock again. True stands before us, inside the door, his eyes alert and fierce, glowing an unearthly white like two round moons with a black hole in the center of each.