Page 17 of Touched By Death

AURELIA

The hum of conversation drowns out the music in the background as we make our way to the bar and hop up on the barstools. The air reeks of beer, sweat, and sickly perfume—a scent I have come to associate with pubs.

Pulling beer, the barman spares me a glance and half shouts to be heard, “What can I get you?” His long, brown dreads are tied back, and intricate tattoos adorn his arms. The two top buttons on his black shirt, bearing the logo of the pub, are undone to reveal a smattering of dark hairs.

I gesture to one of the bottles in the fridge tucked beneath the counter behind him. “A bottle of cider, please.”

After handing the beer to the customer to my left and taking payment, he turns around and bends down to open the fridge. My eyes slide down to his shapely butt, where his slacks strain against the skin.

“You don’t wait around,” Dmitriy comments drily, drumming his fingers on the counter.

The barman straightens back up, places the cider in front of me, and tips his chin at my companion. “What can I get you?”

I like his defined jaw and the day-old stubble that decorates his tanned skin. He looks to be somewhere in his late twenties.

With his most charming smile, Dmitriy uses his magic to trick the barman into thinking we’ve paid. When I snort, he flashes me a wink. “Jealous?”

The cool liquid slides down my throat, and I shake my head. I’d placed a spell on the barmaid back in Ireland.

“What’s the deal with Daemon and the others? You’ve avoided them since you returned to my father’s house.”

Dragging my thumb through the condensation on the bottleneck, I shrug one shoulder and say, “It’s hard to talk about.”

“Maybe it’ll help. I’m a good listener.”

The left corner of my mouth threatens to pull up, but the ache in my chest prevents it from slipping free. I sigh, bringing the bottle to my lips as I look at the mirrored wall behind the bar. My reflection stares back at me from behind the glass shelves filled with bottles of alcohol. After taking a sip and placing the bottle on the coaster, I slide my gaze to him and attempt a weak smile. “Daemon is marrying Dariana.”

“So?” He sounds genuinely confused.

Slowly spinning the bottle, I avoid his eyes. “So… I’m in love with him.” I blow out a breath and push the bottle away with a wince. “I’m in love with them all.”

Dmitriy studies me for a moment, causing my skin to crawl beneath his careful scrutiny. The urge to unzip my skin and run for the door has me breaking out in a cold sweat despite the muggy air. I scratch my brow.

“Look, I have never been in love. But the betrothal… It means nothing. Everyone knows it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say as though it’s not a big deal. But it is. It’s a big fucking deal, and the throb behind my ribcage is an insistent reminder that I allowed them to steal not only my innocence, but my heart, too. I should have been more careful, but I wasn’t. And now I’m paying the consequences of falling in love in Hell.

“I can’t be with them anymore.”

“Why?”

Irritation flares up inside me, and I blow out a frustrated breath. “I can’t, okay? Daemon is marrying the girl I love.”

“But you’re in love with him, too?”

“I never claimed it wasn’t a mess,” I reply, looking at him. “They knew all this time, and they never told me.”

Reaching out, he strokes a strand of hair away from my cheeks, and the stupid tears in my eyes escape. “You know he won’t let you go, right? Once my cousin sets his eyes on something, he’ll burn down the world to keep it.”

“You make it sound like he sets his eyes on girls a lot.”

“No,” he replies, shaking his head softly, his finger trailing down the curve of my jaw. “You’re the first.”

With my heart suspended somewhere between beating heavily and taking flight, I sweep my gaze over his face. His ruggedness isn’t lost on me. Swiping at my pesky tears, I break our connection. “I need to protect myself. I can’t let them break me over and over. I’m not strong enough.”

He reaches forward and takes a sip of his beer, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and lets out an agreeing sound. “It makes sense. So what will you do when they come for you?”

“I won’t let them.”

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