Page 70 of A Taste of Bliss

“True,” he responds as he picks up the box again. “And thanks.”

Finally, we find our spot in the maze and settle in. There’s a small bench of hay built into the wall of the dead end. I feel like we’re lying in wait to scare little kids in a haunted house, but it’s not Halloween and I think the draw is getting to meet some of the musicians of the band, not get scared.

“So because Voracious Maw is anonymous, they send out their techs to do all the fan interactions?” I ask, as I take a seat on the bench.

Pisces tests out the strength of the wall and leans carefully on it, crossing his arms. He’s wearing jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, even though it’s already starting to warm up. The sleeves are pulled over his hands so only his fingers are exposed.

He could be a snake shifter. They tend to be cold-blooded and often aren’t comfortable except in super hot climates. I inhale again, but I don’t smell anything that would give away his species.

I’ve already looked at his eyes—very beautiful blue ones—but they’re runeless.

Guilt coils in my stomach as my eyes wander from his eyes to a slender nose ending in a little point, then to his lips, which he curls inward a bit before relaxing them. If he has a mate, they are a lucky fae indeed. He’s the type of guy I wouldn’t mind flirting at a bar with—just to get Amelia off my back. Flirting to get information out of him, though? That feels so wrong.

But I have to do it.

“I guess so,” Pisces responds slowly. “It’s hard to keep the anonymity if the guys are always out and about.”

“Like Evan?”

Pisces’ eyes narrow at my question, but I wave my hand at him. “It’s not my fault. He introduced himself to me completely unmasked. Also the dude is six five and wears that scrunchie everywhere.” I grin, but Pisces doesn’t match it. My grin falls as an awkwardness settles around us.Say something flirty, Bliss.I rack my brain for something and settle on allowing my power to seep out from me.

“I don’t know him very well,” is all he says.

“Right, guitar tech. I guess you’d interact with Poison the most?” I let my voice take on a sugared quality, taking a small step closer.

All I get is a shrug.

Okay, I get it. I shouldn’t be asking him these questions.

Fine, I’ll ask about Simon instead.

“Simon seems to be handling the band manager stuff pretty well,” I say, trying to goad Pisces into talking about Simon enough to give me some way in there.

Another shrug.

What is up with these men today? Or is my power really that weak?

We fall into an uncomfortable silence. I’m really regretting volunteering for this. As band manager, I have a million other things I could be doing.

I pull out my phone, deciding I might as well answer emails. A few minutes later, I can feel Pisces’ eyes sliding over me. I look up, raising a brow at him.

“You know we’ve met before, right?” he asks.

“Have we?” I ask, mimicking his earlier shrugs. “I think I’d remember someone named Pisces.”

His eyes narrow. “Well, it’s certainly not as memorable as Bliss.”

I pin him with a glare of my own. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He looks like he’s about to take another jab at me but stops short, sliding a hand over his face and looking up at the sky. “Never mind,” he says.

“No, seriously,” I respond, my anger already ignited. “What is your problem?”

He rolls his eyes. “First you try to use your powers on Simon, and then on me. Which of the Voracious Maw boys are you trying to get to?” He smirks and lets out a hollow laugh. “Aren’t you dating that one guy? What’s his name? Jordan? Just letting him drag you around to listen to music you don’t even like. Look at you—” he waves a hand in my direction, “—you look like you were on your way to Coachella and got lost. What is with the fucking ribbons?”

“Why the fuck are you acting like you know anything about me?” I bite out, taking a step towards him. I’m getting ready to push him into the wall and walk away. He can deal with handing out prizes himself. I take a deep breath to steady myself and lookaway from his heated blue eyes. “I broke up with said asshole anyways. Years ago. Not that it’s any of your fucking business. And also fuck you. Just because I’m not wearing all black with neck tattoos doesn’t mean I can’t listen to metal music. Music is for everyone, so fuck off.”

I can feel the tears threatening to spill and my nose is starting to run a bit. I can’t fucking believe this guy. He’s the guitar tech for a huge band, so what? He thinks he’s better than me? I cross my arms and face the entrance to our little dead end spot, because I can hear people coming. I sniffle and wipe my nose with the sleeve of my hoodie. Fuck. Wrath’s hoodie. I’ll totally wash it before I give it back.