Chapter 2
two
RAE
Darius leaned past the two women who occupied the barstools directly between me and him, and rested his arms on the bar.
When the women leaned toward him, I had to resist the urge to slit their fucking throats.
Whatever was wrong with me was really wrong.
"Hey, Shadow. Can I get a beer?"
"What?" My voice was sharp.
My gaze was flicking between the women leaning against him. Logically, I knew his magic was just pulling them in.
Logic didn't curb my murderous desires, though.
"You're bartending." He gestured toward me.
I glanced down at my apron.
Ah.
Right.
He'd asked for a beer.
Reaching down, I blindly grabbed the first beer from the shelf under the countertop and slid it over to him. He picked it up, grinning when he saw the color on the cap.
It was bronze.
Which flavor of magic did the bronze one have again?
Fuck.
It was the lust beer.
I wasn't supposed to distribute those unless the couple was mated and filled out the consent forms. Darius didn't have a mate. Not that I knew about, at least.
If he did, I probably would've killed him or her already.
Not that I should admit that to anyone. Myself included.
Dare lifted the bottle, pointing the cap toward me. "You are a fabulous bartender. I've been trying to get one of these for nearly a century, and no one gives them out. What do I owe you?"
I glanced at the bartender nearest to me and found her staring. She looked alarmed.
Darius was possibly the best person to accidentally give a lust beer to, since most of the city wanted to fuck him, and it would only affect him. Not them.
But her expression told me I still couldn't let him keep that beer.
I cleared my throat and reached over the bar, trying to grab it.
He lifted it out of my reach. The man was at least a foot taller than me, and there was a bar between us.
I could try to use my shadows, but he'd be just as fast with his magic. I didn't want to get charred with his fire, or hit with the pleasurable magic I hadn't felt before.
"If you want it back now, you're going to have to bargain with me," he said.
Another glance around proved that everyone who could see us was watching. Some of the brewery's patrons were even standing, so they could see us over the booths and other furniture.
Darius didn't care if they watched him.
I did.
My heartbeat picked up again.
God, I hated when people looked at me.
I attempted to look casual as I grabbed two bottles of a more appropriate beer from beneath the counter. Everyone liked the cheer beer, despite its obnoxious name. Or maybe because of its obnoxious name.
I lifted the bottles. "I'm not bargaining, but we can trade. Two bottles of this, for one of that."
"I would accept, but I don't have anyone to drink the second bottle. You'd have to join me."
"I'll do it," one of the women sitting next to him blurted, sliding a hand slowly over his bicep.
I couldn't stop the deadly glare I pinned her with.
She didn't notice.
She was staring up at Darius.
Dare ignored her, giving me a slow, sexy grin that pulled my furious attention away from the woman who wanted the male I'd been obsessed with for ages. "What'll it be, Rae? I keep the lust beer, or you drink one of those with me?"
He tapped the lust beer's neck against the cheery one.
"In here?" My gaze slid over some of the people around us before jerking back to Dare's.
"Nah. I'll drive us somewhere quieter."
A man a few stools away from us growled, "I'll go somewhere quiet with you, Darius."
My shadows lashed out toward him.
Dare leaned causally, blocking my magic with his body. My shadows hit him and sort of... curled around him.
That was not normal. My murderous thoughts prevented me from realizing it, though.
"Fine," I gritted out.
Darius set the lust beer down between us, and I shoved the cheery ones at him so I could put the other bottle away.
Dare's grin was wide as I stalked to the tiny half-door that separated the bar from the rest of the brewery. His hand brushed my hip casually as I walked past him, leading him outside. My gaze was trained straight ahead, and I refused to make eye contact with anyone we passed.
That eye contact would be particularly uncomfortable.
"The black Ducati is mine," he said.
"You can't actually think I'm getting on a motorcycle with you," I whispered, my gaze cutting to the many people around us. They would follow us to wherever we went. I'd seen the Scorch Tracker. I knew it was accurate. There was photographic evidence.
"Do you have a better idea?"
I checked out the buildings around us and silently went over what I knew about them. "How fast can you run?"
He snorted.
I glared over my shoulder.
"Oh, damn. You're serious. Uh, I'd say I'm an average runner."
Slow, then.
He was probably too gigantic to be fast.
I plucked the beers from his hands. "Follow me."
Tucking the bottles beneath one of my arms, I took off toward the largest building nearby.
Shouts and exclamations followed us as Dare sputtered a laugh, jogging after me. He was faster than I expected, so I picked up the pace, streaking behind one of the buildings.
We ran the length of it, and disappeared into the alley. When I gestured for him to go up a ladder hanging off the side, he lifted an eyebrow.
"People follow you everywhere. Go." I waved him up it.
He went up.
"This might be the weirdest night of my life," he called over his shoulder.
"Are you insulting me after forcing me to have a drink with you?" I called after him, following him up the ladder.
"No. That was a compliment."
"Didn't sound like one."
I crested the top of the building and breezed past the ginormous male fae.
Darius followed me behind the back of a large, lettered sign and up another ladder, until we were on the roof of the brewery. I plopped down, sitting with my back to a large air conditioner. Without a beat of hesitation, Darius sat next to me.
"What do you mean, people follow me?" he asked.
"There's a tracking website."
"No, there's not."
I wordlessly pulled it up on my phone, then handed it over to him. His eyes widened as he scrolled through his last few days, looking at the pictures and videos taken of him at his barista job, at bars, and even on a neighborhood stroll with his friend, Liv.
"Holy fuck. How did you find this?"
"It's common knowledge." I plucked the phone out of his hand and deleted the tab, though I automatically itched to open the website again.
I'd been following him way too closely.
Maybe the cheer beer would help.
I used my shadows to pop the cap off one, and handed the other to Darius. Taking a long sip, I stared up at the sky and wondered if I really had it in me to proposition him.
The answer felt like a solid no.
"Since when do you bartend?" Darius asked me, leaning against the air conditioning unit the same way I was.
"Grayson made me learn a while back. I'm shitty at it."
"You got a lust beer back from an unqualified patron. That's pretty good."
"There's a huge warning label in front of the shelf. It's bright yellow, and I still missed it. I don't like people enough to be a bartender, anyway."
"I don't think all bartenders like people."
"It would be hard for anyone to dislike people as much as I do."
Darius made a noncommittal sound and took a sip of his own beer. "Why did you resurrect your bartending job tonight? We both know you don't work there regularly. Everyone was staring at you like you came back from the dead."
"They always stare at me like that." It was true.
"You just intimidate them. You're too fucking gorgeous and too fucking powerful not to."
"Stop trying to compliment me."
Darius chuckled. "You're avoiding my question."
"Did you pick which one of them you're going home with yet?"
"Nah, I'm changing my reputation. Haven't fucked anyone in a couple weeks."
"And?"
"My balls hurt."
I bit back a grin.
His answer surprised me, and relaxed me too. A lot.
I'd been way too worried about his sex life, and spent way too much energy wanting to track down and kill whoever he had been with.
Darius took another sip of his beer. "Your turn."
"I never offered to take turns."
"Come on. We're friends now. Friends share things."
"We're sharing this air-conditioner." I gestured to it with my beer bottle. "That's plenty."
"Nope."
"Fuck off."
Darius laughed. "I like you."
"That's just your aching balls talking."
He laughed again. Louder. "For the record, my blue balls like you even more than I do."
I rolled my eyes at him again.
He sprawled his legs out in front of him, and we were both quiet for a few minutes. It wasn't tense, though. Or awkward, like it usually would've been for me.
"What are your scars from?" he asked.
"Nope. Not talking about that either."
"Want to talk about mine first?"
I glanced sideways at him.
Maybe I did.
At least a little.
"I'll tell you about my scars if you answer one of the two questions I already asked you." He lifted a finger. "What you're doing here, or what your scars are from."
"You're obnoxious." I hated how much I liked it.
"Being obnoxious makes life more fun."
"For you, maybe."
"Deal?" He offered me a hand.
"I'm not bargaining for that." I took a swig of my beer, looking away from him again. "But fine. Tell me about your scars, and I'll answer one of your questions."
"Honestly, and fully."
"Alright. You first."
"I don't let myself think about the details," Darius said, his voice growing quieter.
"I was a kid whose magic made adults feel like they were getting off.
Constantly. They chained me up. Used me.
Not my body, but my power. The constant high made them feel more powerful.
Every time I tried to escape, they beat me.
I eventually learned how to use that part of my magic to my advantage, and got out.
Found my family. Now, my life is less hellish. Or hellish in different ways, I guess."
"What ways?"
Darius flashed me a laid-back grin. "If you want more answers from me, you have to talk first."
I scoffed, but debated inwardly. I'd agreed to share. I couldn't just disappear without giving him something.
I wasn't sure which of his questions would be less uncomfortable to answer. My scars, or my current motive.
I'd never told anyone what happened to me. Not really. Grayson knew better than to ask, and I didn't talk to anyone else other than the lamia queen and her mate. My connection to them was only surface-level, too.
While I didn't want to tell Darius about it, I still didn't feel ready to ask him about the bargain, which was why I'd shown up.
Maybe I should've just waited until I felt ready to send that text.
"I was always more connected to the shadows than I had any right to be. My mom was powerful. My dad was too," I said.
"Demons?"
I nodded. "Vampires. Both of them. They helped plan the coup that put the old vampire and siren royals in Shadowside Penitentiary. Grayson's family, Jazz and Dante. My dad was the second most powerful vampire in the city. He took the throne, after the coup."
I glanced over to see if Darius was really interested in the story.
He looked interested. So, I kept going. "The power went to my dad's head really fast. He was never good to me, but afterward, he saw me as a threat.
Didn't waste much time before he threw me in the cellar to starve.
Mom tried to break me out, and he killed her in front of me.
I didn't get to go to the funeral, but there was one. I looked it up."
"How old were you?" Dare asked.
"Fifteen." I took another swig. The cheer beer wasn't cheering me, but demon magic never worked that well on me.
Probably because of whatever I was. Not fully a vampire.
Not fully a shadow. Not fully alive, either.
"It takes a while for a vampire to starve to death.
A couple months. Takes longer, when you're good with shadows.
They're alive, sort of. They can keep you alive, in place of blood. "
Darius whistled.
"Yeah. Dad thought I'd be dead when he came down to find me a few months later.
I wasn't, so he tried to kill me. Repeatedly.
The shadows kept me alive, but I was still a teenager.
I didn't have the heart to kill him, and I didn't have anywhere else to go.
He tortured me until Grayson killed him, and broke me out. "
"How long did it take?"
"A year or so."
"Fuck."
I nodded. "Guess I'm still more shadow than vampire. If I drank blood, that would probably change, but I've never really wanted to try."
"Why not?"
I eyed him. "You're charming information out of me.”
"It's a talent."
"Sure it is. Your turn."
"If I tell you more about me, you have to answer my other question," he warned.
I waved him on.
"You know fae pay a price for our magic. The powerful ones, especially."
I nodded. "Merrily had a panic attack because it was too loud in the car. There was no music on."
"Right. The price for my magic is apathy. Turns into depression if I'm not constantly doing something or being stimulated in some way. My family follows me around constantly when they're worried I'm getting dark, but honestly?" He leaned closer to me.
I couldn't help but do the same.
"I'm always dark," he whispered.
Then he winked at me, sitting up straight and looking back out at the city around us. "Being trapped in your mind like this is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy." He paused. "Well, maybe I'd wish it on your dad."
"He'd deserve it."
Darius made a noise of agreement.
"Is that why you're looking for your mate?"
"Mmhm. They're supposed to fix me."
"I wish there was someone who could fix me," I admitted.
"I'm not confident I have a soulmate at all, so we've got the same wish." Dare held out his fist.
I stared at it for a long moment before bumping it with mine.
This was why I was so fucking obsessed with him. He was dark, but in this addictive, laid-back way that just... spoke to me.
I felt seen with him, but not in a bad way. In a way I really, really liked.