Page 25 of A Bond with the Dark

She accepts my cheers and knocks her beer into mine, taking a drink after.

I take a drink as well. “Can I ask you something, Mara?”

“Sure,” she says, lending me a flirtatious smile.

I lean in close to her neck to whisper, “Is Denver experiencing problems with the grimspawn?”

Her eyes turn sad for a split second. “Oh. Yeah, it seems to be happening more frequently from what I noticed. I have friends in other areas where it’s worse. Why? Is that what brings you to these parts?”

“Something like that,” I state, letting my gaze sweep over the crowd.

My eyes are tracking the movements of the different types of people—humans moving more laboriously and bumbling and the vampires more lithe and precise—when my gaze is pulled by an otherworldly force and I zero in on the woman I’ve come for.

The world stops, hers the only face in focus in the amalgamation of people.

Sayah.

A shiver traces my bones as she walks in my direction.

The presence of her aura staggers me. It is the brightest aura I’ve ever seen, bounding around her in a kaleidoscope of colors that aren’t even on the spectrum. I blink rapidly just to sway myself from my mesmerization of her.

I know Mara said something but I can’t respond. She’s all I see, all I hear.

She is why I exist.

So she’s a witch?

Witches have brighter auras about them than ordinary mortals. The more powerful the witch, the brighter the aura. With the way hers is glimmering, she’s got to be the strongest witch I’ve ever encountered.

She gets to the bar I’m at and her blonde friend, linked to her via elbow, leans in and orders a drink from Laney. Sayah hangs back and looks around. I can’t take my eyes off her when she catches my gaze, I’m immediately flustered and tongue-tied.

She. Is. Flawless. Her body is a celebration of curves, a departure from the bony thinness that characterizes some other women in the room. The way she stands with authority in her skin, commanding attention by just the strength of her stance, I immediately want to bow down and worship her. The dark hue of her long hair complements the sun-kissed tan of her skin, creating a mesmerizing contrast. Tattoos slither down her arms, peeking out from the plunging shirt she wears, revealing the most delicious cleavage.

Oh, and that nose ring. She’s got a fucking hot septum piercing marked by a tiny ring of braided gold that’s barely noticeable. Between that and her dark eyes painted with black liner, I think I’m falling in love.

She holds herself with a threateningly untamed ease.

The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen stands before me, and her death is to come at my hands?

Emotions I don’t even have a name for war within my chest, causing my jaw to clench and my grip around my beer to tighten. As feelings akin to frustration and hopelessness tangle within my heart, asphyxiating my lungs, the bottle shatters in my hands as the churning of emotions flares up inside me.

“Shit!” Mara exclaims. “Are you all right? You’re bleeding.”

I nod at her, still unable to peel my eyes away from Sayah. The way the curve of her body dips before expanding outward to her hips, accentuating her hourglass figure, I picture how perfectly my hands would fit there. Every thought I’ve ever had moves out of the way to make room for her in my mind, and everyone in the establishment disappears.

I barely notice Laney coming around to sweep up my broken glass; I can’t remove my eyes from Sayah, no matter how hard I try. It’s as though I’m seeing a piece of myself I’ve been missing for a very long time, and lo and behold, here it is, in a city a thousand miles from home.

Mara glances at me, questioning in her eyes, as her gaze tracks mine to the witch.

Sayah’s attention is on her friend, who’s handing her a glass of water.

My heart rate quickens—or maybe it’s been beating this fast since I saw her, and I just now noticed. Other vampires near me perk their heads up as though they can hear it, too.

Sucking in a breath and holding it to try and gain my composure, I lean my hip against the bar to relieve my unstable legs.

Someone moves into my line of sight of her.

It’s as if the sun went behind the clouds, and I immediately feel her absence from my life. It’s dark and cold; she was my light—even for those twenty seconds. Choosing to stand on shaky legs, I brace myself and shift my weight to see her again.

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