It hit me then what had really happened. Whatever potion the Druid had made her, it had clearly interacted poorly with the spiced rosewater, turning Hansa, the great warrior succubus, into a weeping, emotional mess. On one hand, this was awkward as hell, but, at the same time, priceless to behold. I mentally chastised myself for enjoying the sight of her so vulnerable, and proceeded to gently pry the pitcher from her hands.
“Maybe I should hold onto this for a while,” I said, placing the pitcher on the floor beneath my chair. “I get the feeling it might have had something to do with what you’re experiencing now.”
“You think?” She sniffed, wiping more tears away.
A moment passed in absolute silence. She looked out into the night and let a long, tortured sigh roll out of her chest.
“Whatever was in that potion Ori gave me, it definitely relieved the stress. But it also brought out way too many feelings at once,” she said. “It’s overwhelming, and I don’t know how to cope with it all. I’m feeling joy and happiness at the sight of my sister’s blissful moment. At the same time, I can’t help but wonder whether I will ever experience that for myself. I’ve never thought about it before. I have never even considered it. Today, however, I did. And I didn’t like my lack of an answer. It left me with a painful emptiness in my stomach, which I’ve tried to fill with spiced rosewater…”
I listened quietly as she spoke. I felt sympathy for her. She’d been through so much already—years of wars and violence, then losing an entire tribe of sisters and daughters to Azazel’s Destroyers and the filthy Sluaghs. Hansa deserved better.
“I’m just… I don’t know if I will ever get to wear a wedding dress.” She shuddered, another wave of tears coming up.
“Do you… Do you think you need one?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. She continued to sob, her head resting on the balustrade’s edge. She lifted it to look at me with questions in her eyes. I had trouble wrapping my head around this raw, genuine, and confusing image of her.
“You think I—”
“What’s going on here?” Jax’s voice shot through, interrupting Hansa mid-question and making her freeze in her seat.
I glanced to my left and found him standing there, with Heron by his side, looking at us with a frown pulling his dark brows together. His jade gaze settled on Hansa, concern casting shadows over his face. Heron and I quickly exchanged surprised glances. Hansa burst into tears again. I was genuinely baffled, wondering what had triggered her this time. I’d just managed to bring her back to a calmer state when the two Maras had shown up and probably ruined everything.
“It’s kind of weird to explain.” I sighed, watching Jax as he crouched next to Hansa. He was tall enough for his face to be on the same level as hers in that position. He put a hand on her shoulder, and Hansa unraveled further, unable to control herself. “Ori made her a calming potion for today, but I think it backfired when she combined it with spiced rosewater, and here we are, basically…”
I was close to getting alarmed by her reaction and loud sobs, when Jax wrapped his arm around her. She turned and hid her face in the small space between his neck and his shoulder. He brought his other arm up and took her in a quiet embrace, his eyes flickering with emotions I’d never seen in Jax before. Hansa bawled in his arms, crying as if the world were ending, and I felt my heart starting to break, slowly but surely. I wanted her to stop. She didn’t deserve to feel so bad. So lonely. So sad.
“Heron, speak to Draven. Tell him what’s happening,” Jax barked at his brother. “Surely he has some herbs around for this. And get some fresh water, too. We need to get the spiced rose out of her system sooner rather than later.”
Heron nodded and looked at me briefly before vanishing into the hallway. He looked devastatingly handsome in his black tux, his short black hair faded on the sides, contrasting with his jade eyes. If it weren’t for his crude jokes and brutal comebacks, I would’ve embraced the sound of my heart thudding at the mere sight of him. He was a ladies’ man, a creature with commitment issues and a penchant for rough humor. He dated often, and with so many females that I’d literally lost track. And yet, he was one of the smartest Eritopians I’d ever met, his darkness leaving room for questions about who he really was beneath the heartthrob façade, and his gaze peeking through my very soul. I was afraid of liking him because heartbreak was written all over him, yet I always found myself holding my breath whenever he was around.
I shook my head and shifted my focus back to Hansa, who was crying in Jax’s arms. He ran his fingers through her hair, shushing her gently while she sobbed and soaked his tuxedo jacket with tears. His pained expression made me feel sorry for him too—whatever she was going through, it seemed to affect Jax, as well, though I was pretty sure Hansa didn’t know that.
“Hansa, please,” he whispered, and I suddenly felt like I shouldn’t be there. “Please, let it go… Whatever is torturing you like this, let it go. I don’t like seeing you cry.”
“I… I can’t let go of that,” she mumbled. “If I let go of that, I might lose myself… I can’t…”
I wasn’t sure what she was talking about, and, judging by the confused look on Jax’s face, he didn’t either. What I was sure about, however, was that the Lord of Maras most certainly had feelings for Hansa, feelings I’d never seen him express or act upon. I had a feeling there was a lot of baggage in his past, but the succubus wasn’t carefree either.
Heron came back with a small leather satchel and a jug of water.
“Draven said to chew these and wash them down with water,” he said, handing both items to Jax. “It’s shadow bane. It strips the spiced rose from the system, almost immediately.”
Jax nodded and emptied the satchel into the palm of his hand, holding the herbs out for Hansa. She looked down, trying to regain control of her emotions. She grimaced as another wave of tears flooded her eyes, but she pinched some of the herbs and chewed them, then drank some water. She repeated the process a couple more times, until she had finished the herbs and sat back in her chair, taking deep breaths and patiently waiting to calm down.
I stood, and quietly moved away. Jax kept his eyes on Hansa, wiping her tears with his knuckles. Heron didn’t seem to notice the unspoken chemistry between them, so I figured it was time to drop a hint for the oblivious Mara.
“Maybe we should go,” I said slowly.
“Why?” Heron’s reply made me roll my eyes, grab him by the elbow, and practically drag him away from the balcony and back into the sumptuous hallway. “What did I do?”
“You clearly can’t take a hint, that’s for sure,” I huffed, then trotted toward the banquet hall’s main entrance.
I wasn’t exactly in the mood to go back in, but being around Heron made my temperature spike worse than being in the presence of an incubus. I didn’t have much of a choice, at that point.
“And where are you going?” Heron’s voice in my ear startled me.
I jumped to the side with a gasp, then glared at him. He grinned, and I wasn’t sure whether he was just being his usual self or whether he was actually aware of the effect he had on me.
“Back inside,” I muttered.
An incubus servant passed by with a tray full of crystal glasses and a jug of spiced rosewater. Heron swiftly snatched the pitcher and two glasses, then winked at me. The incubus muttered a curse under his breath, then walked back toward the service staircase, having to go replenish his tray before returning to the banquet hall.
Leave it to Heron to not care much about consequences, I thought to myself. It was yet another tiny alarm signal as to how dangerous he could be for someone like me.
“Why go back inside when the night sky is so beautiful and there are other, less… weepy balconies on this floor?” he asked with an innocent expression, which quickly turned into a mischievous grin as he lifted the jug between us. “Besides, there’s this!”
I wanted to say no. But the way his lips stretched into a smile canceled my mental processes,
and I ended up giving him a nod instead. We found another balcony farther down the hallway, with chairs and a small table. I sat down, nervously fidgeting with my fingers as he poured spiced rosewater into both glasses and handed me one.
He watched me quietly for a while. I sipped my drink and looked up, trying to focus on the blanket of stars above us and not his dazzling eyes.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Heron said.
“I’m just enjoying my drink.” I smirked, gulping the rest down and prompting him to pour me another. He seemed to carefully analyze my expression, and I felt determined to hold my own in front of him. I didn’t like the way he treated women—he wasn’t disrespectful, despite his inappropriate puns, and he had a boyish charm about him that I couldn’t help but find irresistible, but he was a handsome philanderer. I was attracted to him, and I knew that could leave me vulnerable before a guy like Heron.
“Okay then, here’s another one,” he replied, pushing the full glass back toward me.
I nodded and took another swig, my senses further amplified by the spiced rose. Everything felt more intense, including the night breeze brushing against my face and filling my lungs with much-needed coolness.
“I didn’t expect to get my ass kicked the other day.” He grinned. “You’re quite the fighter, Avril. I respect that in a woman.”
I instantly felt my cheeks burning, and I hoped it wasn’t noticeable. Thankfully, my vampiric features were designed for pallor and silence. I raised an eyebrow instead.
“You came in so cocky and arrogant, I kind of had to kick your ass,” I replied bluntly, and he laughed.
“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he retorted. “I was caught unprepared, and I had no idea who I was dealing with. I’d be more than happy for a do-over, so I can return the… uh, favor.”
“You think you can beat me?”
“I think I can totally beat you, over and over.” Heron took a deep breath and finished a second glass.
“I think the spiced rosewater is making you overconfident.”
“I think it’s actually bringing out the best in me. My confidence is at the top of my arsenal. Well, that and my combat techniques. It’s a deadly combo. I’m a badass and you know it,” he replied, wiggling an eyebrow.
I laughed, though I was unsure as to whether he was being serious or not. Either way, I chose to find it funny.
“I think the fact that you got your ass handed to you by yours truly stands as a counter-statement to that.” I chuckled.
“I beg to differ.” He suddenly stilled, his jade gaze drilling into me as he leaned against the back of his chair. “I’ll take you on the Plateau again, first thing tomorrow, and show you exactly what I’m made of. You’re challenging, and I like that.”
My heart stopped and my fingers tightened their grip on my glass. I was unable to take my eyes off him. He leaned forward, bringing his face so close to mine, there were only a couple of inches left between us. His warm breath tickled my face, and my pulse suddenly took off, thundering through my limbs.
“Your technique and agility might’ve gotten you a little victory the other day,” he said, his stare unyielding and his voice low. “But I can easily take you down now, because I know what your weak spot is.”
Several seconds passed in silence as I carefully measured my words, unable to do much else while sitting so close to him.
“And what, pray tell, is my weak spot?” I croaked, no longer recognizing my voice.
His gaze stayed locked on my eyes as he inched forward until his lips nearly touched mine. Alarm bells rang through me. Fire spread through my veins, and my heart wrestled against my ribcage.
“Me,” he whispered, and pushed his lips out, barely grazing over mine. I pulled my head back, and my consciousness brought everything to a halt. As melting as his voice could be, his overconfidence had decided to rear its ugly head.
“Say what, now?” I managed to ask, ice blooming in my voice.
“I see the way you look at me,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching and his bedroom eyes casually undressing me. “All I have to do is touch you the right way and you’ll lose your senses. It’s a weakness I’m eager to explore. I’ll have you on your back within seconds. And I will be more than happy to keep you down there and show you exactly what I’m made of.”
His head jerked to the side under the impact of my backhand. My body had reacted of its own accord. My dignity had flared up—he’d managed to hit a nerve. I shot to my feet, my desire to kiss him turning into a craving to kick him hard. Leave it to Heron to let his mouth get ahead of his brain and use his arrogance on me.
He stared at me, eyes wide with shock. He touched his jaw. I’d hit him hard, and the skin was slightly red at the corner of his mouth.
“I don’t know whether this kind of tactic works with other women,” I hissed, my fists balled at my sides. “But it will not work with me, Heron. You want to fight me again? Sure, I’ll take you on any time, and dance circles around you before I humiliate you again. But don’t hit on me. Don’t try to seduce me in order to gain some kind of advantage on the battlefield. It will blow up in your face, and you’ll be the one left sobbing on the ground.”
He blinked several times, most likely processing my words. I trembled with anger, and he finally noticed. His eyes glimmered, his pupils dilated. He straightened his back and stood up. He towered over me, and I took a step back, craning my neck to look at him.
“So… this is going to sound really funny,” he muttered, his voice pitched slightly higher than usual. “But I was under the impression that you were attracted to me, and I thought it would be cool to play that out and see what happened.”
I chuckled mockingly, quickly hiding behind my stone façade and crossing my arms over my chest. The move caught his attention, his gaze lowering and lingering on my cleavage. He cleared his throat, and I awkwardly put my arms back to my sides, mentally slapping myself for not thinking that one through. My throat burned under his stare, but I couldn’t let him win this one. I couldn’t let him win anything going forward.
“You were wrong, Heron,” I replied dryly. “I don’t know where you got that idea, but you need to get it out of your head. Besides, your approach to women leaves much to be desired. You would never be able to get close to me. I don’t do one-night-stands to begin with, and certainly not with overgrown boys such as yourself.”
I hit him hard with that one. I noticed a flash of pain in his expression, and he took a deep breath and lowered his head, no longer able to look me in the eyes.
“I’m sorry, Avril,” he said. “I clearly misunderstood, and I thought it would be a nice tactic to throw you off your game before a rematch. You are right. I’m mostly used to fleeting affairs and never really connect with the opposite sex. And thank you for teaching me a valuable lesson tonight, as I now know not to freakin’ mess with a Shadian female again. I sincerely apologize, and I hope you will be able to forgive me.”
A good minute went by as I quietly watched him avoiding my gaze. He’d gone from a cocky womanizer to a seemingly insecure boy so fast, he was nearly unrecognizable. I understood then that his ego had kept him high up for years. I knew he’d spent years in Azazel’s dungeons, starved and mistreated and thoroughly abused, and that he’d had a bit of a hard time being reintroduced into a peaceful Eritopian society.
Females practically threw themselves at him because he was gorgeous and witty as hell, but also because he exuded strength and resilience. I figured he’d found comfort in these affairs after the torture he’d experienced at the hands of Azazel’s Destroyers—his way of coping, perhaps. I also knew, for a fact, that he was a good Mara, a devoted brother, and a damn good GASP agent.
“Listen.” I sighed, and he finally looked at me. “We clearly don’t know each other well enough yet. How about we focus on being good teammates instead, so I don’t have to slap you at every other wedding?”
He chuckled lightly, a bitter smile appear
ing on his face, and nodded.
“I think that would be much better,” he replied. “I talk a lot of crap. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t take any of it seriously going forward. It’s just my nature. Bad jokes and great moves—that’s me.”
I stifled a laugh, then shook my head slowly.
“The word ‘incorrigible’ comes to mind.” I grinned. “But sure, Heron, apology accepted. Thank you for being so open about it, though. I’m sure it doesn’t come easy.”
“It doesn’t, but that’s just my fragile ego. It’s about time someone put an end to it,” he said.
“I mean, I’m sure that stunt works with other chicks.” I giggled, shoving my attraction toward him in a dark corner, deep inside. “But I’m not exac—”
I stilled, distracted by a light moving in the night sky. I watched its zig-zag as it got bigger against the tourmaline blanket of stars, and felt my eyebrows draw into a frown. That wasn’t normal, and it seemed to be getting closer to the surface of Eritopia.
“What are you…” Heron’s voice trailed off as he followed my gaze and saw the strange light moving unnaturally as it got bigger and brighter. “That’s not something you see every day.”
“That’s not something you see, period,” I muttered, my skin crawling.
There was something off about it. My instincts flared with giant warning signs, and I kept my eyes glued to the light. I squinted, trying to get a better look as it got even bigger. It seemed to be the size of a hot air balloon, more or less, bright white and perfectly round.
“It’s definitely not a shooting star,” Heron replied.
“No, it’s moving in a specific motion,” I said. “A repeating zig-zag pattern.”
He nodded, watching it.
“Where do you think it’s headed?” he asked.
It took me a minute to realize, but, despite its evasive maneuvers, it soon became obvious. My lips parted and my stomach dropped as the conclusion kicked in.
“It’s coming straight toward us.” I gasped, then shot off the balcony and into the hallway.
A Shade of Vampire 51_A Call of Vampires Page 9
