There was something unnerving about him. Did he have that effect on everyone? The way his energy pushed at me, eyeing me like I was a piece of candy. It was flustering, unnatural, but still it drew me in. It was…intoxicating. Ugh, get out of my head. I kicked the table again, cursing under my breath. This was officially the worst day ever and all I wanted now was a stiff drink.
I squeezed into a corner booth at the Three Blind Mice, happy to have it all to myself. Today was final exams for witches, so the bar was almost empty except for a few dhampirs hovering over a fresh delivery of blood. I pressed my back into the worn leather behind me, the firmness of the booth relieving the tight ache between my shoulder blades.
I was about to signal to the bartender for a drink when Diego came barreling toward me, panting and wide-eyed. “Arya! Are you okay? I heard what happened.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumbled. “Sit down and lower your voice, please.” I was going to strangle Sapphire. She never could keep a secret from her favorite Lupi wolf.
He fumbled with the buttons of his jacket, bumping the table with his burly arms as he tried to peel it off and plop down at the same time. “Mi Amica, don’t be angry with her. She is just worried about you.”
I glanced over at the dhampirs to see if they had taken notice. Their hearing was impeccable and the last thing I needed was everyone in the bar knowing I was yet again made a fool of. But they hadn’t so much as glanced in our direction.
I fiddled with a loose thread on my sleeve. “Look, it’s not that big a deal. It was probably just a stupid prank. Let’s talk about something else, please.”
Diego reached for my hand, forcing me to stop unraveling all the stitches in my sweater. “Finding a dead bird in someone’s bed is more than a prank, Arya. In my culture that is a sign of bad luck.”
I snatched my hand out of his. “Well, we aren’t in Italy, Diego. Besides, I don’t think I need a dead bird to remind me that I have bad luck.”
He opened his mouth to speak but stopped as the server came over and placed our usual drinks down on the table in front of us. Once the server was out of earshot, Diego started in again. “Magic isn’t something to be taken lightly. I’m not even a witch and I know that.” He shook his head, pleased with himself for knowing something about magic. He raised his glass in salute before taking a long swig of the caramel colored whiskey.
Without breaking eye contact, I knocked back the entire snifter of absinthe in one sip, emptying the glass before slamming it onto the table. “I told you, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Let it go.”
The bar door swung open and Sapphire waltzed in. She took one look at us and frowned. “What’s going on between you two?”
“You tell me. Any more of my secrets you want to spill out?” I motioned for the bartender to bring me another round. The ache in my back was starting to subside, but the ball of nerves in my belly was tightening. Another drink should do the trick.
Sapphire waved her hand toward the bar, mimicking my signal. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. I promised you I wouldn’t tell Miss Jane, and I didn’t. But you know I can’t keep anything from Diego.”
“I know, but you could have at least given me the chance to tell him myself.” They were both my friends, but a part of me always wondered if I was sometimes a third wheel around them.
Sapphire nodded, her brown eyes glossy. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It wasn’t my secret to tell.”
The concerned look in her eyes reminded me how much she cared. That she was on my side and I was overreacting. “It’s okay.” The bartender returned with another snifter of absinthe for me and an ice-cold martini with two olives for Sapphire. “It’s just been a long day.” I stared down at my glass, defeated. I could never stay mad at her for very long.
Diego leaned forward, confident I wasn’t going to bite his head off now. “Something else has got you all wound up. I can feel the heat radiating off of you.” The Lupi wolves’ senses were sharp and cunning, with an ability to detect even the slightest change in emotion.
An image of Chaos flashed in my mind—his broad shoulders, dark brooding eyes, full lips—enough, Arya. Get a hold of yourself. “It’s nothing… Jane rescheduled my potion test. No big deal.” And I had a run-in with a god.
“Then why are you blushing?” Diego teased. He traced a finger around the edge of his glass.
Not again. “I am not. It’s just warm in here.” Dammit, Diego, stop analyzing me. I needed to find a potion that could keep my cheeks from changing color at even just the mere thought of Chaos.
Sapphire gazed up from her drink, licking the vodka off her lips. She looked back and forth between us, confused. “What am I missing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Arya is crushing on someone. And I’m going to find out who it is. It just better not be Marcos. I have plans for him.” A mischievous gleam twinkled in his eye.
“Ugh, spare me the details of your sexual fantasies, Diego. I am not crushing on Marcos, or anyone for that matter. Can we please just change the subject?” He was relentless.
“Sure whatever you say, mi amica.” The corners of his mouth turned up as he flashed Sapphire a toothy grin and she stifled a giggle with another sip of her martini.
After a while, I lost track of what they had changed the subject to, my thoughts drifting, drowning out their voices like background noise. They didn’t seem to notice my attention fading as they chirped on about this and that.
A soft breeze fluttered past me, raising all the hairs on the back of my neck—subtle but just strong enough to stir me. And out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Chaos, just a few booths away from us, watching me like a hawk. Was he following me now, or I was just being paranoid? Maybe it was both. Either way, the energy in the air had shifted since he’d shown up here.
Three
The halls of Sanctum were empty as I stumbled back to my room. Maybe Sapphire and Diego were right about the bird. Maybe something darker was lurking around me. As I turned down the last corridor toward my room, a light prickling sensation crawled up my neck. The faint clicking of heels echoed behind me, accompanied by the pungent stench of patchouli oil. I let out a groan and picked up my pace.
The last person I wanted to see right before I went to bed was Poppy. I’d be having bad dreams for sure. With her creamy complexion and silky blond hair, she fancied herself Apollo’s gift to men. And she loved to remind everyone of it.
“Hey, Arya, wait up.” Poppy raced to catch up with me. It was amazing how she could make even the simplest sentence sound condescending.
I stopped mid-step, hovering my foot over the ground as I debated continuing on. Maybe if I acted like I didn’t hear her, she would give up and go away. But before I could take another step, she was at my side. “It’s late and I’m tired. What do you want, Poppy?”
She flinched, pretending to be offended. “Ouch. What crawled into your bed and died?”
My stomach lurched. Did Sapphire tell everyone? Did someone overhear us at the Three Blind Mice? Or maybe it was Poppy who put the dead bird in my bed. I was about to empty the contents of my stomach onto her pretty pink stilettos when she burst out laughing.
“Relax, Arya. It’s just an expression. Geez, you’re wound tighter than usual tonight.” She casually pulled a golden strand of hair away from her face, revealing her perfect pink and white French-manicured nails.
I let out a sigh of relief a little too loud. “I—I’m just not feeling well. Was there something you wanted? Why are you even talking to me?”
Poppy snapped her fingers and two more witches emerged from the shadows—Daisy and Tulip—two of her mindless followers who were equally as pretty and just as mean. “I wanted to remind you that it’s safer to walk the halls at night with a coven. You never know what ghosts could be roaming around here. Oh, wait, that’s right, you don’t have a coven.”
My heart sank, humiliated as her laughter bounced off the walls, screeching like nails on a chalkboa
rd. They skipped away, arm in arm, giggling to themselves, leaving me standing there alone in my disgust. My feet felt heavier with each step I took toward my room. I could barely get the door closed behind me before I burst into tears. Without command, my wings expanded out and folded around me like a warm blanket.
Sapphire had taken care of the mess on my bed, as she’d promised, and the window had been resealed, but I couldn’t shake the memory of it out of my head. The blood on my sheets, the bird’s smooth white neck contorted. Who would do such a horrible thing?
While I waited for my honeysuckle tea to finish steeping, I chewed on a piece of willow bark to try and calm my nerves. I’d never had it easy here, but lately things just seemed to be getting worse. As soon as the thought entered my mind, a loud smack hit my windowpane.
I whipped around and nearly lost my footing. Not again. Another white crow flailed against the blood-stained glass, its neck half-severed as it pounded out its final breath and slid down into the abyss of darkness below.
The back of my throat burned as I swallowed down the acidic bile. My knees buckled, my head spinning as I collapsed onto the floor. What is happening to me?
I balled myself into the nearest corner, wrapping my wings around my arms and legs. The temperature in the room dropped to an icy chill. A sinking sensation rotted in the pit of my stomach. This felt like more than just a prank now. Something darker was lurking around me. And I had no idea what to do about it.
I released a long drawn-out yawn as the morning light poured into my room, forcing me to wake. Still balled up in the corner, I couldn’t even remember falling asleep. I rubbed my eyes and prayed to the gods that last night was just a bad dream, but as I glanced over at the window, reality came crushing in. The blood-streaked window seemed to mock me with its reminder that I was no longer safe at Sanctum.
With just a quick shower and a change of clothes, I grabbed a cup of coffee at the dining hall and made my way toward the back entrance to Sanctum, careful to avoid eye contact with anyone. I pulled the hood of my black cloak up around my head. I was in no mood to talk to anyone today and my whole body ached from sleeping on the floor. There was only one place I wanted to be right now. The only place where no one would judge me. The Brew Market.
Sneaking in and out of places was something I’d always been good at. With my Sylph magic, I could float by most people undetected. The funny thing was most people were just too preoccupied with themselves to notice. Most of the time, I didn’t even need to use magic.
The path down the cliffs of Stonehaven was steep and narrow. It would have been much easier to fly down, but I wouldn’t dare. My mother’s stern voice came back to me as a reminder. Arya, never let them see your wings.
I skidded down the last few steps to the beach and inhaled a deep breath of salty ocean air. Closing my eyes, the crashing waves calmed me. The North Sea of Scotland was as cold as ice. Its deep waters were rough, choppy—alluring as it was terrifying. A stark contrast to the hot and humid swamps of the bayous that I had spent my younger years around. I could breathe better in the cold. Out here I felt like I could be anyone. I could be free.
The market sprawled out before me, teasing my senses with scents of freshly baked bread, frosted cakes, and cinnamon molasses. Voices shouted and beckoned to each passerby, a lure of seduction to buy their potions, tonics, and delectable treats. Colorful tapestries hung from thin air, flapping softly in the wind like banners.
Nearby, a haunting strumming of Spanish guitars echoed through the makeshift streets. Flamenco dancers twirled and tapped their feet as if they were possessed by magic. Their movements so fluid and sensual, I couldn’t take my eyes off them. I dreamed of dancing like that someday. To lose myself in between each beat, each click of the heel…to let the rest of the world slip away. That was true magic.
Turning the corner down another street, I was met with more fantastic sights—an outdoor tavern, an ink pot with a line out the door of patrons, eagerly waiting for their turn to get marked. Apothecary tents lined the cobblestone streets in rows, full of magical elixirs exuding swirls of multicolored smoke. Blacksmiths scattered about—clanking metal as they transformed steel into deadly weaponry for the armories—their daggers glowing crimson red as they were pulled from the fire.
Amidst all of it, there was even a shoe-shining booth with lines of patrons gleefully waiting their turn to be pampered. It was like stepping back in time. These people weren’t concerned with skyscrapers or fancy cars. This was a different world. I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. I loved it here. The possibilities, the danger of it all. It gave me a rush like no other.
I made my way over to the bakery tent, my mouth salivating before I even walked in the door. A small human woman with dark eyes and grey hair peered out from behind the corner.
She smiled. “Morning, Arya. The usual?” Her voice was thick and raspy, like she had swallowed a bucket of knives, but full of warmth and sweetness at the same time.
I nodded. “Hi, Magdalena. Yes, please. I’m starving.”
She handed me a piping hot bag full of buttery beignets with an extra thick coating of powdered sugar. Those delicious pastries were the one thing that brought me back to my time in New Orleans. One of the only clear memories from my childhood. They tasted like a piece of home.
“Thank you.” I poured myself a cup of chicory coffee and sat down at a table in the back of the tent. Holding my nose over the bag, I embraced the scent of sweet sugar and savory flaky dough. My mood was already lifting.
I pulled one out of the bag and took a bite, closing my eyes as the soft pillow like dough danced around in my mouth.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat a pastry quite like that before.” His familiar voice was laced with amusement.
I opened my eyes and froze, mid-chew. Chaos stood over me, grinning from ear to ear.
“So you’re following me now?” I grumbled. This was the third time in two days he’d shown up where I was.
“I should ask you the same question. Maybe you’re following me? Or maybe Magdalena makes the best beignets in town. It’s a mystery, I guess.” He shrugged and sat himself down at my table, scraping the floor loudly as he scooted his chair forward.
I crossed my arms and leaned back. “Sure, by all means, have a seat. I love when uninvited strangers join me for breakfast.”
His eyes widened as he feigned surprise. “You think of me as a stranger?”
“No, just strange.” I shoved another beignet in my mouth, but I was starting to lose my appetite.
The corners of his mouth turned up, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Strange indeed. But we have much more than that in common, little one. So much more.”
His dark hair was tied back, allowing a full view of his chiseled jaw. For a split second, I was fixated on it. He licked his lips and a slight flutter tickled the back of my neck.
“Whatever you’re doing, just stop. I’m not in the mood for one of your tricks.” He was toying with me. Manipulating me even. For what, I had no idea.
He cocked his head to the side in a playful manner, arching an eyebrow. “Hmm, a witch who can’t be fooled by a god… I knew I liked you. So, tell me, what are you doing down here all by yourself?”
I let out a deep sigh, realizing he wasn’t going to let up. “It’s really none of your business. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to continue being down here all by myself.” His intrusion was starting to annoy me more than it should have. There was something about his energy that made me feel exposed.
He reached for the bag and helped himself to a beignet. I waited as he chewed, slow, lingering over every bite. Watched him lick the powdered sugar off of each finger without breaking eye contact. “Is that what you really want? To be all by yourself?”
Powers or not, he was handsome and sexy. Not exactly the kind of creature who paid attention to someone like me. “Look, no offense, but please go. I can assure you, we have nothing in common.”<
br />
He rose from his chair. “As you wish. I’ll leave you to your pity party. Try to stay out of trouble, though. There are some rough parts down here.”
“Thank you for your concern, but this isn’t my first time out.” I flashed him a sharp smile, my lips tight.
“I see… Just don’t fly too far away, little one.” He gave me a wink before walking out.
My breath caught in my throat. Was that a reference to my wings? Jane must have told him. How else would he know? All my fears and anxieties were creeping up at full speed. So much for my peaceful day at the market.
I chugged the rest of my coffee and sprinted back up the hill to Sanctum. With my mood worse now, I headed toward the library to find Sapphire and Diego. Maybe they could snap me out of this funk I was in.
Sapphire and Diego gawked at me, dumbfounded. They had sat quietly as I recalled my encounter with Chaos—leaving out the part about my wings—and now I was starting to think I should have just kept my mouth shut.
“Well, what do you think? Is he stalking me?” I almost winced as I realized how ridiculous that sounded out loud. A god stalking me, boring little Arya.
Sapphire shushed me with her hands. “Keep your voice down. It was probably a coincidence. You better hope he doesn’t tell Miss Jane you were down there.” Her disapproving scowl border lined on parental.
I moved her hand from my lips. “Relax, no one is listening. The thing is, I don’t think he wanted anyone to know he was down there either.”
Diego leaned over the arm of his chair, fanning himself with a tattered copy of the Crescent almanac. “Sounds to me like he definitely wanted you to know.”
I sighed, frustrated. “It’s not like that. I think he loves annoying me for some reason.”
Sapphire’s scowl deepened. “Arya, stay away from him. He’s a trickster. My mother said that during the Blood War he tried to convince Gray to go back to Elysium with him. Who knows what he’s up to now?”
Smoke and Ritual (Beautiful Dark Beasts Book 1) Page 3
