Page 54

I tittered a laugh, punching him in the arm playfully, though I threw enough force behind the blow to leave him bruised. Threatening the Flamebringer guards had not been a part of the damn plan.

The guard, however, seemed not to notice, his eyes darting quickly into the city then back to us, his tongue wetting his lips nervously. I sensed the rush of his desire to part ways with us as quickly as possible.

“Master Zayad owns you?” the guard asked and though I had known enough about the way the Pyros pleasure houses were run to pretend that I’d been claimed by one of them, I hadn’t planned on using any names.

I hadn’t even known of any names to use and even if I had, I never liked to leave a trail too easy to prove false.

“That’s him,” Bastian agreed with a grin that was by all accounts terrifying. “And we’re already a bit behind schedule-”

“Then go. And tell him you received no hold up at the gates. We’re always more than willing to aid him in his business affairs.”

“Which he appreciates greatly,” I assured the guard, brushing past him and taking Bastian’s arm to make sure he followed without opening his big mouth again.

My nails dug into the flesh of his forearm through his thick leather jacket but he only chuckled in amusement as I hauled him through the gates into the thronging mass of Fae beyond it.

His mood had become decidedly more cheerful since I’d vowed to let him kill me and it hadn’t gone unnoticed that my upcoming death had brought him such joy.

I steered us through the crowd, shoving aside anyone who didn’t move fast enough for my liking and kept going until I’d put several twists and turns and a good mile of distance between us and that guard.

“Leave the talking to me next time,” I snarled, shoving Bastian back against the wall of a yellow stone building and pinning him there with my forearm. I was half tempted to pull a dagger on him but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“Three-hundred years,” he said, cocking his head to one side as he considered that then added. “Well, two-fifty or three. Time tends to lose a lot of meaning over such a span spent in darkness so I lost count a bit.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I hissed in exasperation.

“You wanted to know how long I spent captive in that cave before you set me free, spectre. That is my best estimate.”

“Not possible,” I dismissed. “Even without war coming to lay claim on the souls of Fae, few live longer than a hundred span. You lost your mind down in that hole alongside the use of your wings.”

Something in Bastian’s eyes shuttered at those words, the strike of them spearing me too, though I kept my chin high and jaw fixed against them.

I didn’t care if they were harsh, I didn’t care if I was pushing him or crossing a line or just being a damn bitch.

This was an alliance of necessity and that was all.

“What has a heart but cannot gift it?” Bastian asked me coldly. “Offers pleasure freely but can never receive it freely in return?”

“Stop it,” I growled, knowing this riddle all too well, but he didn’t stop, he only pressed on.

“Bathes in lust but never love? Has a face Fae would die for but a soul they would burn for?”

“I’m warning you, Dragon,” I growled, my fist tightening in his tunic as I shoved him more firmly against the wall but he surged forward, propelling me backwards and pinning me to the opposite side of the alley. He leaned down to answer the riddle because he already knew I wouldn’t do it for him.

“ Succubus . Wanted by all but wanted by none.”

I shoved him away from me forcefully and he let me, backing up with a jeering laugh, his arms outstretched either side of him.

“Do you want to do this? Because we can. Or we can find somewhere to rest like you so need to do. All those nights on the road without proper sleep have to be weighing on you, spectre. You’d better be sure you aren’t slipping.”

“Stop calling me that,” I demanded but he only shrugged.

“But that’s what you are. My own little ghost. You’re just haunting me on this side of death instead of the other. I’m only wondering if you’ll keep it up after I snap that pretty neck of yours between my hands or if you’ll race into death as quickly as you claim to want to.”

I spat at his feet then turned and strode away from him, refusing to let him goad me into a fight.

Because yes, I wanted to fall for his trap but I knew already that even beating his head against the cobbles while he screamed for mercy wouldn’t take the edge off of this rage in me.

This violence desired only one outlet and I needed to deliver the Dragon back to Dragor before I could hunt down the true owner of my bloodlust.

And then yes, I would race quickly into death at Bastian’s hands because even though I knew I’d find no redemption or solace in its embrace, I was hoping I would meet with the torment I deserved.

And until it claimed me, I knew this pain in my heart would never lessen or heal because I wasn’t worthy of redemption. And I didn’t want to be.

I didn’t bother to check if Bastian was following me as I headed deeper into Leergaith, the city rising up around us, the buildings only getting taller the closer we came to its heart.

The place was a monolith, iron structures interspersed with brick, bold graffiti scrawled across every bare space in vivid colours.

Many of the words among it praised The Matriarch or the nation of Pyros.

There were countless magpies painted there too, their beady eyes seeming to watch us from all directions.

I passed beneath their watchful gaze without allowing myself to stare at any of it.

I forged a clear path, seeming to any who might care to look my way to know exactly where I was headed.

And in some ways, I did. I would know the signs of a pleasure house from a mile away and as the sweet scent of fogweed caught my attention, I turned sharply off of the main street and headed after it.

My heart thumped against my ribs as we drew closer to the pleasure house, my focus on our destination while the feeling of being surrounded by my enemies grew heavier with every step I took into the heart of this place.

Bastian said little as he shadowed me, his presence another weight on my shoulders. I trusted in his bargain with me at least so far as feeling confident that he wouldn’t out us to the Flamebringers, but beyond that he was an unknown.

The street we turned down was narrower than the others, the cobbles underfoot still lining the path and various doors opening onto small stores and dining establishments.

My stomach growled at the scents of rich food as we passed them by but until I could convince someone to part with some karmas for me, I was going to have to ignore the lingering ache.

The street was crowded with Fae who all seemed amped up, cat-calls echoing out above the din of chatter and whoops of excitement passing between them.

Scantily-clad bodies brushed against us as we carved our way between them and I kept my hood up to shroud my features from the prying eyes of the revellers.

Bastian slammed into one man so hard that he was knocked on his ass, his boisterous friends all yapping angrily like a pack of mutts as they hoisted him back to his feet and rounded on us.

“Watch where you’re walking, big fella!” one of them barked, raising his chin and taking a defiant step towards us.

Bastian smiled slowly, his eyes roaming over the group of six as if they were a chew toy for him to spit out.

I smelled a fight in the air and honestly, I wasn’t usually one to turn down a taste of violence but we didn’t need the drama.

I slapped my hand against Bastian’s chest, halting his advance and giving him a dry look.

“Down, boy,” I growled.

His smile turned deadly, his hands raising in the least convincing act of innocence I’d ever witnessed.

I arched a brow at him then turned and pushed through the pack of grumbling Flamebringers, elbowing my way towards the open doors beyond them which allowed that sweet scent of fogweed to roll out and taint the air.

To my surprise, Bastian followed, though he knocked into the group of irritable assholes on his way between them, sending them stumbling aside and cursing.

But they didn’t follow as we passed the threshold of the pleasure house, a single glance back making me note the way their eyes darted to the sign above the door before they gathered themselves and hurried away without pressing for a fight.

Interesting.

There were no words on the sign, just a coil of black flame engulfing a pale pink lily. A gang emblem no doubt, and presumably one which the offending mutts weren’t a part of.

Raucous laughter punctuated the pauses between the sultry voice of a Siren who was singing on the stage, her body bare but coated in pale pink scales which shimmered over her nipples and across her curves, creating quite the spectacle for the Fae who had gathered to listen to her.

I felt the lull of her gifts in the words she sang, the note of magic to her voice which betrayed what she was.

There wasn’t a lot of power to her but as I focused on the words, I felt them tugging at my inhibitions, encouraging me to relax and spend a little time in this den of sin.

Not bad. Though I was long practiced in the art of temptation and how to avoid it.

The space was softly lit, with gauzy red and orange fabric hanging over the lamps and a thin haze of smoke in the air.

It was…nice here. And this wasn’t even the shittiest part of town – colour me impressed because back home in Stormfell, Fae liked to keep the pleasure houses to the outer reaches of the cities so that they could at least pretend at propriety while away from them.

But it looked like the Flamebringers weren’t ashamed of paying for their vices.

Or I supposed they just weren’t capable of shame at all, considering the depravity of their birth signs.