Page 5 of Milk and Honey

I really needed tips tonight.

ELIM

The Bright Court was absolutely nothing like what I’d expected. No one would consider the Seelie and Unseelie particularly close, but I’d still been brought up on tales of Seelie opulence and sun-drenched gardens, gilded architecture and plush areas of repose throughout the realm. This, which I could only imagine was a receiving room for the lowest caliber and most hastily-welcomed guests, was dark enough to put my own Court to shame. It seemed at direct odds with Perikar’s poetic waxing about his golden-haired lover, as well as the jewelry and trinkets he mentioned she wore to their forbidden trysts, and her well-appointed bedchambers.

Sensuality was a hallmark of the Bright Court fae, but the sudden appearance of a scantily-clad human offering me some sort of drink was still a shock. Suspicious her semi-exposed chest and half-bared ass was sent as a test of loyalty to my brand new bond of intention, I politely declined, diverting my eyes to a lighted platform in the center of the room as music swelled from somewhere unseen. Fine magic, that. I couldn’t spot so much as a hint of a crouching bard.

When my intended—Melisandre, as the drink-offering human had cheerfully mentioned in passing—finally parted the curtain, my breath caught in my throat. In what I could only imagine was ceremonial Bright Court wedding garb, she sparkled like the finest jewels in the seven soils. The music was unfamiliar and a bit grating, but she seemed to know it well, undulating her body and using a slender ruby-gold post to balance herself on elevated shoes as she spun. The dance, clearly one made to overtly mimic our later activities, held my attention effortlessly and required me to cross one leg over the other soon after she began.

The tension of my escape and worry over my niece seemed manageable in light of my unexpected luck, and I allowed myself to relax, if only for a moment. As I watched my bride spin and send seductive, teasing looks out across the sparse audience, my fantasies wavered between thoughts of making use of her obvious flexibility and setting a proper crown on her head once I’d ousted Gretvir. She was magnificent, and if such a beautiful specimen of the Court proposed to me so boldly and swiftly, perhaps the animosity between our Courts was more rumor than fact.

I sighed fondly as she inverted herself on the shimmering red-gold pole as the music slowed. Her silken red hair—short for a fae, but nonetheless beautiful—hung downwards like my favorite type of tree moss, and I wondered how it would feel tangled in my fingers as I claimed her after we were bound. I hoped she’d give me that same hungry look she sent my way now, perhaps even some pretty little cries of pleasure as I took her with me to ecstasy. Yes, I thought fiercely as I discreetly adjusted myself, nearly shoving through my trousers at the image. She’ll sing for me.

My hand froze, cupped in my lap as I shifted myself for comfort, as Melisandre’s dance took an alarming turn. As she righted herself, a lock of her hair slipped free, and she tucked it behind her ear absently. I’d been so enamored by her beautiful eyes and lusciously curved body that it hadn’t registered that she seemed different somehow, even for a Seelie. The curved, rounded edge of her newly-exposed ear was as foreign as those on the man I’d spoken when I emerged, as those on the short woman that had offered me a drink. Panic set in as I glanced to my right and left, confirming the men I’d mistaken for disinterested, poorly-dressed royal guards sporting the same unfamiliar features. Humans. They were all humans.

Looking through my surroundings with new eyes, I came to an absolutely devastating conclusion: This wasn’t the Bright Court.

I’d let my guard down and celebrated my seeds before the soil was turned, and now every bit of certainty tasted like ash on my tongue. The insistent tug of my magical bond with Melisandre sent my stomach spinning with another, more troubling revelation: I’d bound myself to marry a human.

An exceptionally beautiful one, yes, and I’d been too hasty from lingering desperation for my life and Glade’s, but still. Unseelie did not have the history with humans and the human realm that the Bright Court did. Our agreements were rare enough that each case was its own story in lore, and the vast majority were cautionary. The stories warned our young of how easily humans broke their word, used loopholes and tricky language, and cast us as villains.

The danger now was the one-sided nature of those arrangements. Until Melisandre and I were bound and bedded—her duties as the human that initiated the bargain—she could ask anything she wanted of me and I’d be compelled to present it as a dowry.

Anything.

MEL

My strange visitor watched me like his life depended on it, a deep, thoughtful intensity to his gaze from the front row. He hadn’t leaned forward to put a single bill on the edge of the stage, and usually I’d be annoyed enough to give him the cold shoulder for being stingy. Hell, he hadn’t even had to pay cover because I’d essentially snuck him in the back. But god he was hot. Like, unfairly hot. He had to be Mediterranean or something: dark eyes, dark hair, and olive skin tone, though that didn’t explain the vampire chic teeth.

I inverted on the pole as my set closed in on the end, letting my mind wander as my body and muscle memory took over. I supposed his being cheap was a good thing, it would probably look weird if my suddenly-revealed fiance was dropping cash like an excitable patron. Still, it was a little bit of an insult: the guy had kissed the hell out of me less than an hour ago and now my routine wasn’t worth a few bucks? Ugh. Figured.

Rissa always said men were either good in bed or good outside of it, and most women weren’t lucky enough to snag the combo. If the way Elim kissed was any indication, I was in for a hell of a night if I ever took him home, even if my chances of being taken out to breakfast were financially slim. I flipped back up on the pole to sashay off stage as the music ended, confused that Elim’s face had morphed into a shell-shocked expression in the interim. I mean, I was good, but I wasn’t like gob-smacked good. I let it give my pride a little leg-up regardless, and smirked to myself as I ducked back behind the curtain to make way for Mandy.

“...told him I could handle it but he insisted!” Frowning, I followed the sound of Vic’s exasperated tone to the cracked-open door of the office, where he’d clearly been venting to Mary.

“You okay, Vic? I mean, other than the obvious?” Mary gave me a tight, knowing smile while Vic took another long pull from a whiskey glass on his desk. We both loved the man, albeit in very different ways, and there was a sort of sisterhood between us that agreed Vic deserved our support. She made sure he was cared for at home, the girls and I made sure he took his blood pressure medicine and got a proper meal during late night shifts.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine Mel.” He waved tiredly. “I’m just stressed that the owner decided to drop by. He hasn’t come by in person since before you started here, and it’s always a shitshow when he does. Do me a favor and tell the girls to clean their vanities? Like actually clean them, not just rub a sleeve over the mirror like they do. I don’t need him bitching at the state of this place.”

My own brows shot up as I realized what was going on. Clearly the reclusive mystery owner of the Pole had been called in the wake of the robbery, and I apparently accidently gave him the brush-off. That said, reclusive or not, he should have known better than to get inappropriate with women, let alone his own employees. The Pole wasn’t that kind of club, at least it hadn’t been under Vic’s reign.

Elim’s looks suddenly made sense: I’d always heard the club owner was kind of eccentric and originally from outside the US. Vic had also mentioned once he got tired of his overly-formal speech on the rare phone call for accounting information. Damn, the guy was probably already pissed that his club had gotten hit, no sense making it worse by making him wait.

“Uh, yeah, about that. He arrived earlier, I’m so sorry Vic, I didn’t realize who he was!” I thought about jokingly mentioning he’d kissed me and was clearly goofing off with Rog by introducing me as his fiancee, but Vic’s confused expression took the wind out of my sails. “Yeah, um, let me go grab him. Be right back!”

Vic got up and seemed ready to say something as I backed out of the small, cluttered room, a weird sensation of relief washing over me the closer I got to the club door.

Sure enough, when I propped it open on my hip, Elim was standing right in front of it, hands neatly clasped behind his back like a senator. Hot and poised: just my luck he was apparently my boss. I stifled a grin and gestured at him to follow me down the hallway. And so what if I put a little more emphasis on my hips, maybe secretly hoping he’d check out my ass along the way?

As a pleasurable chill trickled down my spine and a smile crept to my lips, I swear I could feel those dark eyes doing exactly that.

A taste of forbidden fruit? Why, don’t mind if I do.

ELIM

The gods were cruel.

Here I was in deep soil and all I could think of was how I’d like to be planted even deeper inside of Melisandre. Yes, the bond had something to do with it, but that explained the sense of urgency, not the raw, hot attraction that blazed when I was close to her once more.

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