by Holly Evans
Their bloodsongs were reminiscent of the redcap I’d taken down in Prague, the same heady thrumming beat at the heart of it. I made a mental note to make sure I got a vial of their blood to give to Kane. He could analyse it and find out what the fuck was going on. A deep guttural growl came from inside the shop, and I wondered if I’d somehow missed a lycan sneaking in there from somewhere. The blue-haired guy leapt on me during my moment of unfocus. His hands collided with my shoulders, and his teeth were aiming for my throat. I drove my knee into his groin and slashed his throat when he pulled back and doubled over in pain.
The remaining fae-vampire thing was slowing down, his trousers were soaked through with blood, and his skin was becoming paler. He licked his lips and clumsily lunged at me. I side-stepped and threw him down on the ground, where I stamped on his throat and smiled at the satisfactory feeling of it collapsing under my heel. His eyes went wide before he died.
Dante emerged from the shop, his eyes a bright gold and the shadow of horns on the edge of his temples. His bloodsong raged and crashed over me like a tsunami. I wasn’t thinking. If I had been, I’d have given him a lot of room and rethought the whole ‘working with him’ concept. Instead, I brushed my hand over his cheek and leaned my body against him, offering him calming comfort. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.
TWENTY-TWO
Dante’s eyes met mine, and he wrapped his arms around my waist before leaning into me. His bloodsong eased, and slowly the gold receded from his eyes, returning them to their usual ice blue. He took a slow breath before he ran his thumb over my bottom lip with that sinful smirk he loved so much back on his face.
“How did you do that?” he whispered.
I laughed and stepped back, not wanting to encourage where that was going.
“I stepped in and touched your cheek,” I said as I glanced around, checking for the bodies of the weird fae-vampires.
The bodies were gone. There wasn’t even a trace of the usual black goo.
“Is there anything left of the witch in there? I want to get a vial of her blood to Kane so we can understand what happened.”
Dante’s relaxed, his flirty demeanour evaporated, and he put his hands in the pockets of his pants as a cold business-like expression formed on his face.
“Yes, she is on the counter. I’ll ring the clean-up crew,” he said before he stepped away and pulled out his phone.
There couldn’t be anything between us, as much as he was the image of perfection and I had seen hints that his personality was actually pretty good. At the end of the day, he was dangerous and, if I let my guard down, he’d get me executed by the Council. I sighed and texted Kane to tell him what had happened. He was the only person in the world I could really talk to.
The interior of the shop was in complete disarray. Broken glass covered all of the surfaces near the back of the space, powders and potions of every colour under the rainbow dripping from the edges of the shelves and coating the few remaining bottles and jars. I stepped around a fizzing lime-green puddle that looked worryingly radioactive. The witch was bent over the counter at a very sharp angle. Kane must have snapped her spine to achieve that. A shiver ran through me at the thought of the power he must wield to be able to do that. I unsheathed one of my daggers, pulled out a small vial, and opened up her jugular. Her head was twisted, with her hair tangled around the nape of her neck in a blood-coated knot. The blood was already starting to congeal. It shouldn’t have done that for a good while. Everything about the situation, from her skin colour and weird fangs to the fact they attacked at all, was just odd. It certainly didn’t bode well for the rest of the investigation.
Kane wasn’t getting into the city for a few more hours, so I tucked the vial of blood in the small pouch attached to my knife sheath and went with Dante to dinner. He remained quieter and more aloof than usual. He kept his hands in the pockets of his pants rather than putting one on my lower back, and he didn’t smirk at me once. I followed him through the bustling side-streets of the city, where the paths were narrowed by tables and diners on either side of them. The well-worn stone told the age of the city and whispered of the history held there within the walls. Candlelight flickered from the small tea lights in the middle of the tables, the sun not quite fully set yet. That led to shadows pooling in corners and stretching over the small square in the middle of the cross roads.
Feral cats slipped between the shadows and shot down the steps between the levels before they slunk beneath the tables looking for small scraps from generous tourists. They were all well-fed with bright shiny coats and intelligent eyes. Laughter and joy filled the air accompanied by the scent of the sea and fresh seafood.
Dante led the way down two blocks worth of path before he finally stopped at a table in front of a restaurant that looked like many of the others. I didn’t know what had made him choose that one in particular, as he hadn’t paused to look at the menu on the little stand at the edge of the restaurant’s territory. The waiters were all smiling locals dressed in white shirts and black trousers. They stopped to chat to the couple two tables down from ours. Dante pulled the chair out for me and I sat, feeling uncomfortable in my new jeans and such. I didn’t think I’d ever eaten dinner at a restaurant with anyone other than Kane or my parents, and it felt weird. I told myself that it was for work, that we needed to eat. There was nothing special about it.
The waiter came and lit the small candle in the middle of the table before handing us a menu. Dante ordered us a carafe of local wine, which was enough to satisfy the waiter for the moment. I looked down the menu at the array of glorious seafood. I hadn’t had seafood in a couple of years. Prague cannot cook fish. It isn’t poisonous, but some of the meals I’d tried had tasted like they should have been.
Once I’d decided, I looked up and saw the warm candlelight playing over Dante’s features. The sun had set entirely, leaving us with a dark starlit sky overhead. There was a shadow of something darker within Dante’s features. I remembered the faint smudges of horns that had been near his temples earlier, a stark reminder that he was half demon. And not just any demon, a prince.
“I’ll take you for gelato once we’ve eaten here,” Dante said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
There was an innocence to that smile. It was disarming, even though he was holding back.
“You did something remarkable when you touched me earlier, Wren…”
His voice was gentle, but probing. He leaned forward a little, his hands edging towards mind across the table. I kept my hands flat on the table, trying not to draw his eye to my spike of concern.
I shrugged. “It was nothing, really. Do we have any leads for tomorrow?”
His eyes hardened a little, and his mouth tightened. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.
“We’ll be speaking to the most recent victim’s family,” he said coolly.
The waiter arrived to take our orders, and Dante allowed me to order for myself, which was a mild surprise.
“What exactly is your relationship with Kane?” His tone was somewhere between playful and a demand.
Dante stretched back, and my eyes wandered down the length of his hard, toned torso as he did so. His gaze remained on me, watching my reaction to his display.
“He’s my best friend, why?”
Fuck, I sounded too defensive. He leaned forward and ran his thumb over my knuckles. His expression became one of sinful intent, his mouth open just a little as his eyes held my gaze.
“So, you’re entirely single?”
A thrill ran through me. There was no denying what he was getting at. I remained entirely still and resisted the urge to entwine my fingers with his and encourage him.
“Yes.”
Thankfully, the waiter arrived with our food before Dante could push any further. The expression on Dante’s face showed he wouldn’t believe me if I said I wasn’t at all attracted to him, and I definitely wasn’t a good enough liar to
try and fool him.
We ate our food in relative quiet. It was beautifully fresh and exactly what I needed. The chef allowed the fish to speak for itself rather than drowning it in a sauce. The wine was light and crisp, the perfect accompaniment.
“Come, we’ll get gelato,” Dante said as he stood.
I looked up at him.
“’Come’? Seriously?”
He grinned down at me. “I love your fire. It’s rare to find someone who will argue with me.”
I stood and followed him down onto the main street through the centre of the walled city. Live music was being played by a duo over on the corner where a small crowd of people had gathered on the tables set out there. It was a slow, melancholy song that I didn’t recognise. There was a beauty about it that made me smile despite the overall tone of the piece. As I looked up at the clear night sky, I realised that I finally felt like I was home.
TWENTY-THREE
There were two gelato places on that main street. Dante took me to the one on the end. It was hard to remember we were there for business as he ordered us both two scoops each of gelato. His hard lines had softened, his eyes holding a gentle light that I hadn’t seen before. He handed me the cone with a scoop of lemon and a scoop of strawberry, the perfect combination.
He led me down to the quieter part of the city, where we sat on the steps of some official building with large pillars holding up the grand second floor.
“Gelato from that shop was the first food I chose and bought for myself. I was eighteen years old. I had been released from my mother’s custody twelve hours prior. Something about this city had been calling to me for years.” He was lost to the memory, a gentle smile on his face. “Until I arrived here, everything about my life had been chosen for me. I wasn’t allowed to eat ice-cream or anything else sweet. It was a small rebellion and piece of bliss.”
I had nothing to say to that. It was a beautiful memory and clearly one with a great weight to it.
“It’s the first time I’ve had gelato,” I said lamely.
Dante grinned at me and wiped a drop of gelato from the corner of my mouth with his finger.
“You’re quite something, Wren Kincaid,” he said with what sounded suspiciously like affection.
I shrugged. “I’m just a merc. I hack and slash with some vain hope it’ll help make the world a better place.”
He raised an eyebrow at me and took a long lick of his gelato. I laughed. I didn’t know if that was meant to be seductive, but it looked ridiculous. He quickly started laughing with me and everything felt right.
“I see you’re getting along well,” Kane said.
I hadn’t seen him approach. He stood in front of me with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, a small tight smile on his face. He was clearly unhappy to see me relaxing with Dante, which, given the danger Dante posed, wasn’t unreasonable. It felt good to relax with someone new, though. I thought it was better to ignore the tension rather than try and confront it.
I grinned at him. “How was your flight? You should get some gelato, it’s so good.”
Dante tensed next to me, and Kane’s tight smile didn’t budge.
“The flight was fine. You said you had some trouble?”
“Yea, it was weird. I’m fine, I handled it, but I was hoping you’d be able to shed some light on what the fuck caused it all,” I said before I ate the last of the gelato and stood.
“Wren really saved the day, she soothed my… darker side in a way no one has achieved before,” Dante said with the rumble of a growl.
“Is that so? And how did she do that?” Kane asked as he gave me a deeply unamused look.
“I’m not sure, and Wren claims to not know,” Dante said as he stood.
“Why don’t we go and look at the vial somewhere private?” I asked.
“I have my things at my apartment, we’ll go there,” Kane said brusquely.
“Lead the way,” Dante said with a large false smile on his face.
Kane put his arm around my shoulders, which caused a shift in Dante’s bloodsong, a thundering note echoing around the baseline. I ignored it and allowed Kane to lead us out of the Old City along the main road for a short way before we stopped in front of a simple white building with the typical red roof of the area. We followed Kane up a set of steep and narrow stairs that I wouldn’t want to tackle in heels. The apartment itself was small and simple with more white walls and terracotta coloured tiles on the floor. The view out over the ocean from the window on the far side of the living room took my breath away.
Even in the darkness, you could see the waves crashing against the small islands, the night sky crystal clear.
“A little different to Prague,” Kane said with a smile.
“The blood, Wren,” Dante said.
“Sorry, yes!”
I pulled the vial out from the small pouch and handed to Kane. I frowned as I noticed that the blood was still whispering its song. Dead blood shouldn’t have a song to it. The zombies were full of magic and that gave them their own song, but normal corpses didn’t have a bloodsong.
“Everything ok?” Dante prompted.
“Yes, sorry, I was just remembering the fight,” I said with a smile.
Dante’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t believe me for a second.
“There’s bottled water in the fridge,” Kane said as he pulled out his witch’s box.
I walked past Dante, who watched my every move, and pulled a couple of bottles of cold water out of the fridge. I handed one to Dante and watched as Kane reached into the slender silver box where he kept his accoutrements and pulled out various implements and little disks full of powder.
“You have a pocket dimension,” Dante said his eyes narrowed.
Kane shrugged.
“It’s useful for when I travel. I don’t like being without my equipment.”
“They’re rare and expensive,” Dante said as he leaned down to get a closer look.
“Are you suggesting I stole it?” Kane asked as he stared Dante down.
Dante smirked and said nothing.
“How long will it take to figure out what the fuck happened to the blood?” I asked.
Kane sighed.
“You know how this works, Wren.”
I leaned down and hugged him before I brushed my lips over his temple.
“Why don’t we have breakfast together and we can talk about it?” I asked.
I hated leaving him to analyse the blood overnight, but he and Dante clearly weren’t going to be able to stay in the same room as each other.
“He’s paying,” Kane said, nodding towards Dante before he kissed my cheek. “Don’t miss me too much,” he added with a cheeky grin.
TWENTY-FOUR
I’d headed straight to my room after we left Kane. Dante had been quiet and reserved, but I put it down to the tension between him and Kane. There was something incredibly soothing about sleeping that close to the sea. I could almost feel it and taste the salt in the air. I fell asleep with a smile on my face. I'd completely forgotten that I was sharing the space with Dante until I walked down the steep stairs to find him shirtless in just a pair of pale linen pants. He held a cup of coffee in his hand and had his back to me, showing off the beautiful sigils that ran up his spine. Each sigil couldn’t have been much bigger than a pound coin, no more than an inch in diameter, and yet they were so detailed. Small delicate lines intersected to give crisp swirling designs that sat next to sharp angular designs, each precise and refined in their execution.
The blood red and black ink stood out against his skin, giving a striking appearance that held my attention and begged me to look closer. Something about them triggered a memory deep in the back of my mind, but I couldn't reach the memory to dig it out.
Dante turned around to reveal a circle of sigils over his heart, his bloodsong washing over me in sensual ripples that made my breath catch. Damn him, it was as though he knew what he was doing and was using his song against me. Of course, he
couldn't, since he would have handed me over to the Council by now if he did. The usual smirk formed on his pretty mouth, and I cleared my throat.
“Where's my coffee?" I asked in what I hoped was a fun and friendly tone.
He reached behind him, his shoulders and abs flexing as he did so, and pulled out a cup of coffee for me. I tried not to let my gaze trail down the line between his clearly defined abs or linger on the V that formed just inside of his hips and guided my eyes down to his pants.
I failed. Blush heated my cheeks as Dante handed me the cup of coffee.
"We'll grab crepes in the square. I assume Kane will be up by now?” he asked.
I frowned. “He should be, unless he was up obscenely late. Then I suppose he could still be in bed."
Something flickered through Dante's eyes at that. I couldn't quite decipher what it was.
"Text him and make sure. As much as I would enjoy breakfast alone with you, it's best that we make some progress on this case."
"Do we have an appointment or something with the family?"
That sounded so lame, I took a large gulp of my coffee, only to have it burn my throat.
"They're expecting us in the late morning."
The smirk was very much present as I tried to play it cool and pretend I hadn't just burnt my throat and mouth on the coffee. How did those heroines in the movies and such do it?
"So, er, what are those tattoos for?"
His nostrils flared, and he tensed for a moment.
"They keep my father's side of my bloodline in check."
I raised an eyebrow.
"They help me keep control over my demon side. Without them, I would be too close to my father, too aggressive."
I reached out and ran my fingertip over the thin black script of the sigils around his heart. His bloodsong shifted slightly under my touch, felt as though it was caressing my mind, calling me closer.
"How do you do that?” he whispered.
I was almost pressed against him, and I didn't remember having taken a step.
