by Becca Blake
“We’re all here, so let’s begin,” Eldrin said. “Miria, get the door.”
With the usual crowd of players all gathered, there was no reason to keep the Silver Leaf open for the evening. The game would require all of their attention. Eldrin would spend the evening dealing, Zephyr would run the bar, and Miria would stay present at the table to keep a light mood among the players to deter any disagreements before they happened.
It was how things always worked.
As she started toward the door to lock it, it swung open in her face. “Sorry, we’re clo—”
“I’m here to play cards tonight.” Aeidan smirked as he stepped inside. A beautiful elven woman clung to his arms. Her long, blonde hair was twisted into wide curls, and she pouted her lips as she looked Miria over.
Miria glanced to Eldrin, who shrugged, then turned back to Aeidan and his companion. “You’re not welcome here,” she said through gritted teeth. “And neither is your guest.”
“I didn’t realize this was a private event.” Aeidan looked over Miria’s shoulder at Eldrin. “Is it true I’m not welcome here?”
Eldrin frowned. “I don’t see any reason you can’t join us. Miria?”
Miria clenched her fists until her fingernails bit into her palms. She couldn’t mention what he’d done to Azalea on her way home from work—not without breaking her trust. How dare he come to her workplace after attacking her friend. And bringing another woman along just to further rub it in… The arrogance astounded her as much as it infuriated her.
“Come, Elene.” Aeidan shot Miria a smug, triumphant grin as he pushed past her and took a seat at the table.
Elene’s smirk mirrored Aeidan’s, and Miria wondered for a moment if she was accompanying him as more than a hired companion. Did she know him well enough to know what he was capable of?
Eldrin narrowed his eyes at Miria. He’d expect her to tell him what the problem was later, but not in front of the regulars. “Miria, go get our new guests something to drink.”
She plastered a false smile on her face—the one she saved for difficult, unruly customers—and walked over to the bar.
“What’s going on?” Zephyr asked, nodding his head toward Aeidan.
“Piss in his drink,” she muttered. “He hurt Azalea last night. He’s here to gloat.”
“Last night? He was here drinking with that girl last night.” Zephyr glanced up at her as he poured the drinks.
“Then it must have happened after he was here,” Miria said through clenched teeth. “Her wrists were all bruised up, and her shirt was torn. You saw him go after her yesterday morning. He waited until we weren’t around to come after her again.”
“He’s scum. But if he’s paying and not causing any trouble, Eldrin isn’t going to kick him out. And you know the vamp guards won’t do anything about it. Just try to avoid him as much as you can.” Zephyr slid the drinks across the bar for her to take.
Miria’s hands shook as she walked the drinks over to the table. When she promised Azalea she wouldn’t confront Aeidan, she wasn’t counting on seeing him the next day. Now that he was here, right in front of her with another woman he could abuse, she wasn’t sure she could manage to keep her mouth shut. It wasn’t as simple as avoiding him if she was expected to bring him drinks.
But if she could goad Aeidan into some sort of outburst, maybe it would be enough for Eldrin to send him out. Or at least enough for his companion to witness his temper.
Hopefully both.
Drops of beer splashed on the table as she set the glasses down in front of Aeidan. “Anything else I can get for you?”
“You can go now,” Aeidan said, waving a hand to shoo her away.
Miria’s grip tightened on the back of his chair. “Have you been with Aeidan long?” she asked Elene, trying to keep her voice light.
Elene eyed her warily before responding. “It’s new. We just started seeing each other a few days ago.”
Miria spent enough time outside Madam Leone’s waiting to walk Azalea home that she’d gotten to know most of the women who worked there. Elene was not one of those women. If she wasn’t hired to accompany him, she’d chosen to join Aeidan.
Which meant it wasn’t likely she knew how he’d approached Azalea the previous morning...or how he’d attacked her that night.
“You should run now before you get too close to him,” Miria said, still wearing the false, too-friendly smile she saved for customers.
Her warning cut into the hum of banter at the table, and the players silenced. The only sound in the room was the fluttering of Eldrin dealing out cards to the players.
“You can go,” Aeidan repeated.
“And why should I run from him? So you can take him from me?” Elene tilted her chin up in defiance.
Miria couldn’t help but laugh. “No. Definitely not.”
Aeidan folded his hand, pushing the cards toward the center of the table. “I really think you should go now.”
“Miria,” Eldrin said, using her name as a warning.
Miria scoffed. “Just ask him where he was last night—and what he did while he was out.”
“He was with me,” Elene said, just as Miria started backing away to heed her boss’s warning. “All night. Whatever you think he did, it couldn’t have been him.”
“Maybe it was after you parted ways for the night.”
Elene shook her head. “We stayed together until the clock tower rang for morning wakeup.”
Miria frowned. That didn’t make sense. If someone else had attacked Azalea, she would have said as much. “Even if that’s true, I saw him go after her yesterday morning.”
“Miria.” Eldrin collected the cards from the previous round and set down the deck. “I think you should go home for the night.”
“He’s lying!” she insisted, throwing her hands in the air.
“I don’t give a damn who’s lying,” Eldrin said. “I won’t put up with a shouting match in the middle of my tavern! Right now, he’s a paying customer, and you’re not. Head home, and we’ll discuss this tomorrow.”
“This piece of shit hurts women,” Miria said, heat rising in her cheeks. She did her best to ignore Eldrin’s scowl and Aeidan’s smug grin. Instead, she fixed her gaze on Girard, her eyes pleading. “He hurt Azalea.”
Girard, the only other person at the table who had reason to care about Azalea, slammed down his drink. He turned to face Aeidan, his concern etched on his face in sharp, angry lines.
“Leave. Now.” Eldrin pointed at the front door.
Miria glared at him, then stormed away to gather her belongings. Shouts rose from the table behind her, but none of their words broke through the furious buzzing in her ears. It didn’t matter what any of them said, anyway. She couldn’t stand to hear more of Aeidan’s denials.
She was sick of the bullshit.
“What happened to avoiding him?” Zephyr asked, raising a brow.
Miria scowled and slung the bag over her shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Hey.” Zephyr grabbed her hand as she started to walk away and held on until she looked at him. “I’ll come over tonight, and we’ll figure out what to do to keep Azalea safe, okay?”
Before Miria could answer him, the scraping of wood against the stone floor interrupted them.
“He leaves, or I leave.” Girard’s voice thundered across the table.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Aeidan said, leaning back in his chair.
Elene looked between the two of them. “Well, I’m leaving.”
Aeidan reached for her hand. “Elene—”
“We can talk about this tomorrow.” Elene jerked her hand back and stumbled toward the door.
Miria gripped the bag with Azalea’s journal and hurried out behind Elene. She had nothing more to say to the other woman, but she didn
’t want to wait around any longer to watch Aeidan’s reaction to his companion abandoning him.
Her legs carried her forward in long, furious strides, and her jaw ached from how hard she’d been clenching her teeth. As long as Aeidan stayed away from Azalea, what happened between him and Elene was none of Miria’s business.
A rough hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around, snatching her out of her thoughts. Aeidan stood inches from her face, his eyes wide and wild with fury.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded. “I wasn’t anywhere near your whore friend last night.”
“Admit what you did,” Miria snarled. “I saw how she looked when she came home.”
“You’re crazy.” Aeidan spat on the ground next to Miria. “Stay away from me.”
Miria slammed her palms into his chest, knocking him backward.
At the edges of her vision, a crowd began to gather, drawn in by the spectacle. A pair of vampire guards paused their patrol, keeping wary hands on the swords at their waists.
Miria didn’t care. Let them all watch.
She pushed him again. “You’re a piece of shit, and I’m sick of seeing you hurt women. Don’t come near Azalea or me again. And while you’re at it, why don’t you spare Elene from your bullshit, too?”
“I told you already—it wasn’t me. But whatever that whore got, she probably deserved.”
Her entire body shook with the desire to punch the grin right off his face, to give him what he deserved.
“Miria!”
Miria spun around to see Azalea at the edge of the growing crowd, holding a basket of fresh bread from the market at her hip. The basket fell to the ground, scattering loaves across the dirt as she ran forward to meet Miria.
“He’s not worth it,” she yelled, sounding desperate. “Just walk away. Please!”
Zephyr had told her the same thing. Just leave him alone—he’s not worth it. And yet, Aeidan kept showing up to hurt her friend. By avoiding him, by not confronting him or trying to stop him, she was just letting it happen. He wouldn’t stop until someone made him stop.
“If you’re defending my honor, don’t,” Azalea said, meeting Miria’s eyes. “I don’t need to be defended. Please—I asked you not to do this.”
Miria’s fingers twitched as she clenched her fists more tightly. Walking away would give Aeidan a free pass, would prove there were no consequences to him treating women however he wanted.
But this was Azalea’s battle to fight, not hers.
“Fine.” Miria sighed and let the tension drop away from her shoulders. “Let’s go home.”
Azalea wrapped an arm around Miria, guiding her away from Aeidan and the Silver Leaf. As they walked away together, a strong pull at Miria’s shoulder caused her to stumble backward and fall to the ground.
Behind her, Aeidan held her bag triumphantly over his head, the strap torn in half. “I’m taking this as repayment for the evening you ruined.”
“Give it back.” Miria got to her feet. Her entire body shook with barely contained rage.
Azalea held out her hand to lead Miria away from the fight. Walk away, her eyes said. Don’t cause a scene.
He’s not worth it.
And yet, the bag he’d stolen had Azalea’s journal in it—the one Miria had purchased instead of buying food for herself that day.
“There’s no money in it,” Miria said. “I don’t have any. There’s nothing of value.”
Aeidan dumped the contents on the dirty ground, then slammed his boot into the dirt. When he pulled his foot away, only splinters remained of the charcoal pencils. The journal was folded in half over itself, its pages torn and stained.
A scream tore through her throat. She turned away from Azalea’s outstretched hand and lunged at Aeidan, flinging her body into his. He landed with a sickening crack against the earth, Miria straddled atop him.
She brought her fist down on his face. Blood splattered from his nose, splashing against her shirt. She punched again. And again.
Again.
The cries from both Elene and Azalea were miles away as Miria continued pummeling his face with her fist until her hand and clothes were coated in a vibrant red.
Strong hands closed around her waist, and she flew backward through the air. She landed on the ground, and her momentum rolled her away from Aeidan. Pain shot through her body, and she groaned, clutching her right arm.
Dazed from the blood lust and confused by the sudden sense of vertigo from being thrown across the street, she looked up at her assailant. A huge vampire stood in front of her—one of the guards who never intervened unless something serious happened.
Fuck.
6
The guard yanked her to her feet and slapped heavy iron manacles across her wrists. “Let’s go, elf.”
Miria took a final look over her shoulder at the scene she was leaving behind. Aeidan’s elbow poked out at an impossible angle, and his face was covered in blood. The second vampire crouched next to him, tending to the wounds.
Miria couldn’t tell if he was still breathing.
Off to the side, Azalea stared at Miria with a distant, haunted look, like she was staring through her. Like the events were happening to someone she didn’t know at all.
The guard pulled her forward roughly by the chain on the manacles. His pace was far too brisk for her, forcing her into an awkward gait that was somewhere between a jog and a run. The elves of the market stopped what they were doing to watch as the guard pulled Miria through the market streets. She held her head high and met the stares of the shoppers and shopkeepers she saw every day. She’d done the right thing. Their disapproving glares wouldn’t change that.
The children, still grouped together in the midst of a new game, paused between two carts to stare at her with wide, curious eyes.
A young boy pointed at her. “Look at all that blood!”
Some of the kids squealed and disappeared behind the cart. Others stayed, watching her with wide-eyed fascination.
“Bet she killed a vampire!”
The vampire paused, jerking Miria to a stop. He stared down at the young girl who’d shouted, the same girl who’d lost her ball earlier that day.
The girl met his stare defiantly, narrowed eyes staring out of her dirt-stained face, unafraid of the vampire in front of her.
A woman pulled the girl back, hiding her in her skirts. “She didn’t mean that,” she pleaded.
The vampire scanned the hushed crowd for a few long moments before clearing his throat. “The blood of your own kind stains her hands.”
Miria stumbled forward as he yanked on her chain once more, leading her forward again. The children shrank away as she passed, and the adults jeered at her. These were her people. She hadn’t done them wrong by attacking Aeidan, who had done far worse to abuse their kind. He deserved it. If she was being led to her death, she wouldn’t let herself forget that.
Marvin poked his head out from his tent. After one look at her, he shook his head and disappeared once more.
Did he regret giving her the journal? Would his opinion change if he knew she was defending Azalea? If he knew Aeidan destroyed the beautiful journal he’d given her?
She hung her head as they passed through the rest of the market, staring down at her bloody hands. Blood coated them in a thick layer of deep red. Splatters trailed up her white tunic, all the way to her neck. She hadn’t seen herself in a mirror, but she could tell by the crusty feeling on her cheeks that it had reached her face as well.
The vampire led her up the long stairs to the guards’ watchtower atop the cliff. The two guards at the gate sneered at her as she was pulled past them and brought deeper into the tower.
Inside, he shoved her into a cell. The lock on the heavy, iron door clicked as he closed it. He turned away without a word. His footsteps faded down the hallw
ay until a door slammed shut behind him, leaving her in silence.
Azalea paced around her apartment, worry gnawing at her gut. Zephyr sat in Miria’s bed, his head resting on the knee pulled up to his chest. After the fight, the vampires canceled the card game at the Silver Leaf and sent everyone home, but neither of them could stand the idea of going home alone.
“How long do you think they’ll be?” Zephyr asked, breaking the silence they’d shared in the hours since Miria’s arrest.
Azalea stopped pacing and sighed. “I don’t know.”
She met his eyes, as scared and heartbroken as her own. What sort of punishment Miria would receive depended on Aeidan’s condition and the mood of the guards. They wouldn’t know her fate until they were told. The question about whether she would make it home at all remained unasked between them.
“You should go home and get some rest,” Azalea said. “If they send word, I’ll come get you.”
Zephyr leaned forward. He ran his hands along Miria’s sheets, still rumpled from the previous night’s sleep. “In all the decades I’ve been down here, I never let myself get close to anyone before her. I never told her…” His voice broke at the end, leaving the rest unspoken.
She’d seen the pair of them together. She could guess the rest well enough.
Azalea sat down next to him and took his hand gently, the way she often took Miria’s. “You’ll have your chance to tell her. She’s not dead.” Yet, a nagging voice reminded her. “She’ll come home.”
Zephyr squeezed Azalea’s hand and stood up. “You’re right. She’ll be okay. She has to be, right?”
“She has to be. I don’t know what I’d do without her. We’ve been friends for as long as I can remember, since back when we went to school together in Viridi. Even then, she was always there to protect me when I needed her. When other kids were cruel, she’d always jump in to tell them off and make them leave me alone.” Azalea wiped the tears away from her eyes. “I need her.”
“We both do.” Zephyr grabbed his bag from next to the door. “You’ll come get me as soon as you hear anything?”
“Of course.”
