Chasing Promises: (Capturing Magic, Book 3)

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Chasing Promises: (Capturing Magic, Book 3) Page 8

by Sorensen , Jessica


  “There’s always a way,” he says amusedly as he grabs two glass from the shelf and sets them down on the counter in front of me, “if you’re powerful enough.”

  “So you’re going to make this vehicle big enough to fit the entire population of Steel in it?” I question with a skeptical lift of my brow.

  “No. Not every creature will come.” He untwists the lid off the bottle. “A lot will, though, which is why I need to change the layout of this place. Widen it up and stretch it out. Maybe add a few pools, hot tubs, booths, seating areas …” He dazes off as he prattles off a list.

  Me? I’m still stuck on the fact that he’s going to try to cram that many creatures in here.

  “Why not just have it outside like you said before?” I suggest, resting my arms on the countertop.

  Worry flickers in his eyes. “Do you remember when the arch collapsed and Arrow had to hurry back to the vehicle with you?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “Do you remember why?”

  “Yeah. Because … Oh.” I tense as I recall the words Arrow uttered to me. “You can’t have it outside, because it’ll be dark, and the monsters come out at dark.”

  “Yep. Forgot about that part earlier.” East begins pouring the golden liquid into a glass.

  “Okay, I guess I get it.” I pause, watching him fill up the other glass and wondering what the drink is for. “It’s weird, though, because we’ve been here for three nights, and I haven’t seen any monsters. Although, I haven’t really tried to look outside at night.”

  “And I’d recommend not doing that,” he tells me in a very un-East-like manner—in seriousness. He quickly erases the look, caps the bottle, and returns it to the shelf. Then he collects one of the glasses. “Okay, so I’m going to make a preparty toast here, because it’s tradition. I usually do it with Arrow and Asher, but we’ll just do another one later, because I could really use a drink right now.”

  I warily eye the drink. “You want me to toast and drink with you?”

  Strands of his hair fall into his eyes as he angles his head to the side. “Please don’t tell me you haven’t drank fey wine before.”

  “So, you want me to lie?”

  “Harlynn.” He sets the glass down dramatically, and my heart trips up a little at the use of my name. He rarely uses it and, while his pet names are growing on me, I like the sound of him saying my real name. “How have you never drank fey wine before?”

  I lift a shoulder. “Because it’s not that common in the world I’m from. And humans are told not to drink it. That it can make them lose their minds.”

  “But you’re not human.”

  “I know that now.”

  “Okay, then.” He lifts the glass like now that’s settled and let’s toast. But I’m still reluctant.

  “It won’t make me lose my mind?”

  He slowly shakes his head, his sparkly lips spreading into an impish grin. “It’ll make you feel really, really good.”

  In that moment, he looks completely like a faerie with his wings spanned out, all glittery and pretty in the light. That should make me pause. Should make me think twice about this. Should make me not want to drink with him.

  But it doesn’t. And that makes me question how comfortable I’m starting to get in their world.

  You’re one of us.

  I pick up the glass. “Fine, let’s make a toast.”

  His smile widens, his pearly whites on full display. “To beautiful creatures who show up on your doorstep and change your life in the best possible way,” he says. I almost smile at his kind of sweet words, but then he adds, “And to beautiful creatures who violate you with kisses and scar your innocent mind.” He winks at me.

  I roll my eyes, but my cheeks warm a little, so I hurriedly clink my glass with his then down the drink, hoping he’s right, that it will make me feel good.

  And even if he’s not and it makes me lose my mind for a moment, I might be okay with that, too.

  I think, anyway.

  Harlynn

  So, apparently, when you drink faerie wine, you lose track of time. Not my mind, though. Nope! My mind is totally in tack.

  I think, anyway.

  Wait—what if none of this is real?

  “You keep getting this confused look on your face,” East says as he watches me with a small smile. “It’s cute, the way you crinkle your nose. But I’m really curious what you’re confused about. Because parties aren’t for confusion.”

  I peer around at the many different creatures crammed inside the guys’ worlds traveling vehicle. Although, crammed might be a stretch since, after East and I made a toast, he spent the next hour bending and widening the entire place to about ten times its size. He added two pools, at least half a dozen hot tubs, several red leather booths, tables, and chairs. Then, to “bedazzle” the place up, as East put it, he added a glass domed ceiling that gives a very awesome view of the bronze stars glittering in the dusty sky. Gothic, thorn-woven chandeliers dangle from the ceiling, and twinkling silver lights flash across everything. He also cast a spell that makes shooting stars appear like they’re dancing in the air. One is currently twirling in front of me, and I try to catch it, but the magic slips through my fingers like dust.

  “Did you just try to catch my magic?” East asks, the silver light reflecting in his eyes.

  I give a lazy nod and recline back on the booth that he and I are sitting on. “Yeah, I did.”

  We’ve been sitting here for a while, and I haven’t seen Arrow or Asher since creatures started arriving. When I asked East, he told me that they’re still working on setting up the ensnaring spell for Maple.

  What I’m really surprised about is no fans are bothering East. No one has approached him, except for a singer from another band, but he just stopped by to say what’s up.

  East bites back a smile then scoots closer to me. “Maybe we should go easy on the wine for a bit.” He brushes a strand of hair out of my eyes. “I want to make sure you have a clear head with so many other creatures around.”

  “I do have a clear head.” It’s partially true. I’m not completely drunk. I’m just light.

  He smiles at me then picks up the glass in front of him and takes a drink.

  I eye him over while he’s not paying attention to me. He’s still sporting the same pants he had on earlier, only he added a few chains to the pockets and belt loops. He’s shirtless, and his wings are on full display, begging to be touched. Which begs the question: why hasn’t a creature tried to touch them or him?

  Why haven’t I?

  Shaking that thought from my head, I twist in the booth to face him. “Why isn’t anyone bothering you right now? When we were in the city, you had to duck down an alley just to escape your fans.”

  He sets the glass down on the table in front of us then rotates in the booth so his knee is pressing against mine. “We have rules for our parties. A list of rules actually, that are attached to the signal we send out. Before anyone can see the signal, which includes the place, time, and date, they have to sign the list of rules with their magical signature, which means they’re magically binding themselves to those rules. And if they so much as try to break one, the magic curses them.”

  I shudder at the reminder of my own curse. “With what?”

  He slants forward, his sweet scent engulfing my nostrils. “With dark things that I don’t want to get into because, right now, you are so light and beautiful and I don’t want to risky dimming that.” He traces his finger underneath my chin.

  It’s the first time he’s really touched me since the party started. Truthfully, his lack of touching has left me sort of perplexed since, before the party started, he gave me a rundown of what was to be expected of me while I was pretending to be the band’s aftershow woman. Not that any of them are going to have sex with me or anything like that. Although, when he explained that part to me, he put it a lot more bluntly and used dirty words that made me annoyingly blush. Still, he did stress that w
e’d have to touch each other, and made a big deal of making sure I was okay with. And yet he’s barely done anything except touch my hair and cheek.

  “Why aren’t you touching me?” I wonder aloud then bite down on my tongue, realizing the full context of what I just asked. And so does he, I’m assuming, since he struggles not to grin. “What I mean,” I start to correct myself, “is I thought we were supposed to be touching each other because I’m supposed to be the band’s aftershow woman or whatever.” Something occurs to me then. “Although, how can I really be your aftershow woman if you haven’t even put on a show?”

  “Oh, we’re going to put on a show,” he promises then takes a sip of his drink, his muscles raveled into tight knots.

  “Really? You guys are going to play tonight?” I ask, and he nods, setting the glass down.

  I reach for my drink, but he slides it out of the way.

  I give him a dirty look. “What the hell, dude?”

  “No more drinks,” he says. When I part my lips to protest, he places a finger across them. “Because, when I start to play with you, I don’t want you to be so foggy-headed that you’re not fully aware of what I’m doing.” He bites down on his lip. “I want you to feel every single graze of my fingers as I touch your soft skin. Maybe I’ll even slide it up your dress and feel inside—”

  I bite down on his finger, not hard enough to draw blood but to stop him from finishing that sentence.

  He winces but chuckles, withdrawing his finger from my mouth. “Always so feisty,” he mutters, his gaze sweeping over me. “That’s good, though. It lets me know that you’re not so drunk I should be worried.”

  I roll my eyes but look away while waiting for the blush to leave my cheeks.

  Silence stretches between us, the sound of chattering, laughing, and throbbing music filling it up. I just start to think that perhaps he’s letting me off the hook for blushing, which would be a first for him, when I turn my head to look at him and see he’s staring at something across the room.

  I track his gaze across the tables surrounding us to the other side of the pool. Okay, it’s not a something that he’s staring at but a someone.

  She’s one of the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen. Long, flowing silver hair, skin that sparkles like the stars, and lips that look like rubies. And the red dress she’s wearing is just as shimmering as if crystals have been sewn into the fabric. And her eyes that look like the night sky are looking right at East.

  “Who is she?” I ask, glancing away from her and at East.

  He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even so much as look away from her. He just stares at her so intensely that I start to wonder if she’s a lover of his or something, which isn’t surprising. Faeries are known for having many lovers, which I guess kind of backs up what Asher was saying earlier about paranormals being okay with sharing.

  Anyway, what is surprising is the way my body reacts to the idea. A burning from inside me manifests. A deep burn that swells through my body and soaks into my mind.

  Holy shit, I might be jealous. It’s a relatively new feeling for me and freaks the bats out of me. I try to stifle it, but the more I focus on it, the evil green thing feeding inside me, the more tremulous I feel. Or maybe that’s because the booth is shaking …

  Shit, I’m losing control over my powers.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I breathe in and out, but it doesn’t help and the room trembles with it.

  Creatures pause from their conversations and glance around. East looks away from the female creature, his gaze gliding to me. He momentarily looks dazed, but then he snaps out of it, grabs ahold of me, and drags me onto his lap.

  “Breathe, sweetheart,” he whispers while carrying my gaze. “Just breathe through whatever’s bothering you.”

  I inhale and exhale a few more times, and the shaking slowly starts to subside. Creatures return to their conversations as if nothing happened, as if the entire vehicle shaking isn’t a cause for concern.

  “Better?” he asks, skimming his fingertip down my cheek. When I give an uneven nod, he asks quietly, “What set it off this time?”

  I don’t want to tell him. At all. It’s way too embarrassing.

  “Who was that creature that you were staring at?” I ask instead.

  His expression immediately falls, and I know in that moment that whatever he’s about to say is bad.

  His throat muscles work as he swallows hard. “That is … was my master.”

  My eyes widen. “What?” I say a little too loudly.

  He gives me a pressing look, silently pleading with me to be quiet. “I said was. She’s not anymore.”

  I recall all the things I’ve learned about East and all the things I still don’t know about him. While he’s told me a few details about who he is, his past mostly remains a mystery.

  He must see all the questions written all over my face because he quickly says, “It was a very long time ago.” He gives my leg a gentle squeeze as he leans in and whispers in my ear, “And is definitely not the time to talk about this. There’s too many listening ears.”

  I sweep my gaze around the crowd. Several creatures are watching us, which I guess makes sense. East said that they signed an agreement not to approaching Ash East Arrow, but that doesn’t mean they can’t gawk. Although, are they staring because of that or because they know I’m the reason the room was shaking?

  I gulp at the idea, suddenly feeling like the freak that I am and wondering if everyone can see that.

  East’s gaze skims over my face. Then he moves me off my lap. When he stands up, I open my mouth to ask him where he’s going, but all he does is offer me his hand. Confused, I take it, and he lifts me to my feet.

  I quickly tug at the hem of my dress then nervously peer around. Us standing up has attracted even more attention. Or maybe it’s just East. Probably.

  “Everyone’s staring at you,” I whisper, inching toward him as a male vampire smiles at me, flashing his fangs.

  “Are they?” He smiles at me amusedly as he steers me past the tables.

  “Why are you smiling about that?” I wonder, tucking my elbows in as they brush against the chest of faeries, werewolves, and all sorts of unrecognizable creatures.

  “Because I’m pretty sure they’re not all staring at me,” he explains with a smirk. “Some are looking at you.”

  “No, they’re not.” I tug at the hem of my dress self-consciously.

  “Yes, they are.” He dips his head, his lips brushing my ear. “You’re gorgeous as it is. But tonight, you’re extra sparkly. Plus, you have those beautiful legs on display.”

  We reach the dance floor where magic-created starlight gleams above us. He slows to a stop and twirls me around, causing me to giggle. Then he gives me one last twirl and pulls me back against him so my back is lined with his chest. With how low the back of my dress is and him being shirtless, it’s a lot of skin-to-skin contact. I’m not sure what to do with it. My heart, though, decides it’s going to freak out like a lunatic.

  “That giggle …” He snakes his arm around my waist. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh before.”

  He’s probably right. I rarely laugh. But life has always felt too heavy to find that much lightness in a moment. I guess, for a moment, though, that heaviness momentarily lifted.

  “That’s because I don’t laugh a lot,” I admit, unsure if I should push his arm off me or not.

  Conflicted. I’m so conflicted all the damn time that it’s starting to get annoying. I used to be so certain of everything. Or maybe it was everything was certain for me. My future had been laid out in front of me the moment that genie had taken my parents from me and cursed me. But then Asher told me that everything might not be certain for me anymore. That everything might be uncertain, and now I just feel confused.

  “You should,” he says, letting his other hand wander down my side. “The sound of it coming out of those pretty lips of yours is fucking mind dazing.”

&n
bsp; I roll my eyes, ignoring the glances I keep getting from a creature that I think might be an ogre. “Dude, you say the cheesiest lines sometimes.”

  “Absolutely,” he agrees as he begins to sway us to the throbbing rhythm of the song pulsating through the air. “But I think, deep down, you might like it.”

  I start to roll my eyes again when I realize what he’s doing. “Wait … We’re not dancing, are we? Because I can’t dance.”

  “Yes, you can, because you already are.” He moves us again to the beat.

  “Barely.” I clutch his arm, uneasiness trickling through me. “And only because you’re doing all the work. I’m just letting you guide my body around.”

  “So? You’re still dancing,” he assures me as he moves his body with mine. “Come on, sweetheart; dance with me. We need to appear as if we’re completely distracted by this party. It’ll make us seem vulnerable, which might make you-know-who come out of her little hiding hole.”

  “Oh, fine.” I grimace, knowing I’m going to look like an idiot. “But I wasn’t lying when I said I can’t dance. I haven’t ever tried. Living on the streets for as long as I did … there wasn’t much time for partying and dancing.”

  “Then I guess it’s time to make up for lost time,” he murmurs in my ear.

  Then, as the beat of the song picks up, he starts to move us quicker. At first, he keeps the movements simple, slow and steady. But the longer we move, the more sensual his grinding becomes. And so do mine.

  “You’re a natural,” he whispers in my ear as he spreads his fingers across my waist, making the hem of my dress move up a little.

  I shake my head. “No. I’m just doing what you’re guiding me to do.”

  “You’re still a natural.” He grinds his hips against my ass, and I shut my eyes as the scent of him overwhelms me.

  My head falls back against his chest as I slowly begin to relax. He groans softly, gripping my waist tighter. Then he traces his nose along the arch of my neck.

 

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