Chapter 7 #2
Not out of spite or fear of them. They were my family, had been since I was old enough to understand what it meant to be a witch. But I couldn't face their questions when I didn't have answers for myself.
And I'd seen how they treated Alex when he tapped into his dark side. How even Aunt Judy had a touch of fear in her blue eyes when he argued with her now because she was afraid of him and what he might do if he lost control.
Talin noticed, though. I felt her eyes on me whenever we were in the same room. Maybe she could feel something was off with me, just like I did with her. Or maybe I just looked as exhausted as she did.
But I knew it was more than that. She was keeping secrets too. I could sense it. The way she flinched when anyone mentioned visions or prophecy. The careful distance she maintained from certain topics.
We were both terrified of what we were becoming.
"Are you okay?" she asked, because Talin always asks, even when she's falling apart herself.
"I'm fine," I lied, because I couldn't burden her with this. Not when she was already carrying so much.
She studied me for a long moment, and I wondered if she believed me. But then she nodded and let it go, and we sat in companionable silence while I cataloged everything I couldn't tell her.
The Purple Fang was nearly empty when I arrived, the lights still low, the stage dark.
It smelled like liquor and leather and something distinctly vampire.
Like old blood and the combination of their own scents, the ones designed to lure humans to their deaths.
Not unpleasant, exactly. Just... different from the herbs and candles I was used to.
I shouldn't have been there. Aunt Judy would have lost her mind if she'd known I'd come to the vampire's territory alone, without permission, without escort. Again. But Talin had been sneaking into The Quarter, and I needed to know what she was doing. Who she was seeing.
What she'd found.
The bar gleamed in the dim light, every bottle perfectly aligned, every surface spotless. Elias's handiwork, no doubt. He seemed to take his bartending duties very seriously.
"We're closed."
I spun toward the voice and found Dae-Jung emerging from the back hallway, carrying a box of clean glasses. He stopped when he saw me, his dark eyes widening slightly before a wide grin spread across his face.
"Alice Moss," he drawled, setting the box on the bar.
My eyes were drawn to the tensed biceps of his arms, and I snapped them back to his face before he noticed.
"Never expected to see you here. Did you come to see the show? I've got some new moves to show off."
I frowned at his obnoxious grin, shaking my head. "No. I'm looking for Talin."
His grin faded, replaced by something more guarded. "Yeah. She's not here."
I moved closer to the bar, studying him.
Dae-Jung had always been different from the other male vampires.
Where Killian brooded and Jamal hated everything and everybody and Brogan covered pain with jokes and Elias obsessed, Dae just..
. existed. Happy. Light. Like being undead didn't weigh on him the way it did the others.
But I could feel what was beneath the surface. The turmoil coiled inside him, patient and waiting. Not dark or evil. Not exactly. Just… there. Waiting.
It reminded me uncomfortably of myself.
"She's been coming here, though," I said. "Hasn't she? Every night?"
"Not every night." He started unpacking glasses, arranging them with the same precision Elias would have demanded. "And when she does, it's just to work with Elias on her visions."
"Visions of what? What is she seeing?"
His hands stilled on the glass he held. When he looked up, his expression was serious in a way I'd never seen from him. It was his turn to frown. "Your brother."
Alex.
I gripped the edge of the bar with one hand to steady myself. "What has she seen?"
He hesitated. "I think you should ask her."
"I'm asking you."
Dae set the glass down carefully, then leaned against the bar, studying me with an intensity that made my pulse quicken. Not from fear. From something else entirely.
His eyes held mine, and the air between us shifted. Thickened. I felt the change like static electricity before a storm, raising the fine hairs on my arms beneath my flowing sleeves.
"I can't tell you what I don't fully understand," he said finally. His voice dropped lower, and I noticed how close he was standing. When had he moved around the bar? "And what I do know isn't my story to share."
"She's my cousin."
"And Alex is your twin." His gaze didn't waver. "Which means you're probably hiding just as much as she is."
My breath caught. I should have denied it. Should have maintained the carefully constructed facade I'd worn my entire life. Sweet Alice. Gentle Alice. Alice who followed rules and respected boundaries and never, ever stepped out of line.
But something about the way he was looking at me stripped away that pretense. Like he could see straight through to the darkness inside I'd been trying so hard to hide.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Liar." The word was soft. Almost tender.
He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the back of the barstool between us.
Close enough that I could smell him now—clean cotton and that delicious vampire scent, something that reminded me of rain-soaked earth and midnight.
"You're practically vibrating. I can feel it from here. "
I stepped back instinctively, putting distance between us. My hands twisted in my skirt, bunching the flowing fabric between my fingers. "You don't know anything about me."
"Maybe not." He straightened, but didn't move away. Just watched me with those dark, penetrating eyes that seemed to catalogue every nervous gesture, every racing heartbeat. "But I know what it feels like when someone's trying to hold back something big. Something they're afraid of."
"I'm not afraid."
The words rang hollow even to my own ears.
Dae's expression softened, and somehow that was worse than the intensity. "Everyone's afraid of something, Alice. Even happy-go-lucky vampires who dance for tourists and pretend nothing ever gets to them."
The admission surprised me. Caught me off guard enough that I forgot to maintain my distance. I drifted closer again, drawn by something I couldn't name. "What are you afraid of?"
His gaze dropped to my mouth, then back up. "Wanting something I shouldn't."
His words hung between us, charged with meaning I wasn't sure I wanted to decipher.
My pulse pounded in my throat, and I knew he could hear it.
Could probably smell the adrenaline spiking through my system, the way my body responded to his proximity despite every rational thought screaming at me to leave.
"Dae—"
"I really don't know much," he said abruptly, cutting me off. "About Talin. Or your brother. Just that Elias has been helping her focus, trying to make sense of whatever she's seeing."
I absorbed this information. "Just Elias?"
"Far as I know." He walked back behind the bar, picked up another glass, and resumed unpacking with movements that seemed entirely too casual.
"Did it work?"
"I don't know. I wasn't here." He set the last glass down with precise care, and crushed the box with his bare hands like it was paper.
Heat traveled across my chest and up my neck to my face. And lower…
I cleared my throat, trying to think of something to say to break the sudden tension in the air.
He came around the bar again, and this time I didn't step back.
I breathed in his scent as he passed, unable to help myself, and watched him move past me toward the stage, his movements fluid and graceful despite his muscular build. He started checking equipment, testing lights, doing all the mundane tasks that kept the club running.
And I stood there like an idiot, rooted to the spot, unable to make myself leave.
"How long have you known?" I asked finally.
"Known what?" He didn't look up from the lighting panel he was adjusting.
"That there's something different about me."
Now he did look. Turned fully to face me, and the stage lights cast shadows across his features that made him look almost dangerous. "I don't know anything, yeobo," he said before he went back to work.
"What does that mean?" I asked him, distracted from our earlier conversation.
He glanced over at me as he leaned over to plug something in. "It means 'honey,' or something along those lines, although I guess it's probably considered a little old-fashioned now."
Right. Because he's who knows how old.
Because he's a vampire.
"You never said anything."
"There's nothing to say." He descended the stage steps, closing the distance between us with a deliberation that made my heart race.
"I'm supposed to have answers." The words burst out before I could stop them. "That's my role. I'm the one who's steady. Reliable. The one who helps everyone else figure things out while staying calm and centered and—"
"Perfect?"
I flinched at the word. At how accurately it hit the mark.
Dae's thumb traced a gentle circle over my pulse point, and I realized he was touching me. That I'd let him touch me. "Nobody's perfect, Alice. Not even sweet, soft-spoken witches who wear rainbow colors and pretend everything's fine."
"I'm not pretending."
"Really?" His other hand came up, fingers ghosting along my jaw.
Not quite touching. Just hovering there, waiting for permission I knew I shouldn't give.
"Because from where I'm standing, you look like someone who's been holding themselves together too tight for too long, and they're about to shatter. "
The accuracy of the observation stole my breath. Made my eyes burn with tears I refused to shed.
"Why do you care?" I whispered.
Something flashed across his expression. Pain, maybe. Or recognition. Since I didn't stop him, Dae's hand finally made contact with my face, cupping my jaw with surprising gentleness. "I don't."
I shook my head, leaning into the touch despite myself.
"They look at Alex differently after what he did to save Kenya.
After they saw the darkness in his magic.
If they knew I had the same thing inside me.
.." The words spilled out, and I didn't know why I was telling him these things. But I couldn't seem to stop myself.
"They'd be afraid of you too."
"Yes."
The word broke on a sob I hadn't meant to release. And then somehow I was pressed against his chest, his strong arms wrapped around me, holding me together while I finally let myself fall apart.