Page 87 of Winterfall Destiny

The majority here are vamps, although not all hemia, but I catch enough magic energy to relax. Maeve's a beacon, but at least the other witches' magic, along with lamia, and pneuma auras will dampen her light.

"Everything alright?" Maeve whispers, her tightening fingers drawing me from my thoughts.

"Sure." I squeeze back and lead Maeve to the bar that stretches the length of the wall, dark wood and aged metal in the rear of the room we stepped into.

The shelves behind are a magical library of spirits, with bottles glowing under subtle backlighting, casting an array of colours against the walls, different to the clear or brown liquors I usually drink. Bartenders, dressed in theme, mix cocktails named after potions for those congregating.

I take a shaky breath. How did I not know where we decided to scout tonight?

Because I spent so many of those years lost in a haze of blood, drugs, and sex.

And death.

I swallow hard. I'm slowly accepting that man will never die, but with Maeve's help I'm embracing that he's a part of me and not who defines me. But memories. Fuck, I hope nobody from my past still hangs out here.

Unlikely. Too many unexplained injuries and deaths in the vicinity would be enough for my old friends to move on—or be moved on. No. This place is filled with younger, newer Dominion members.

Which is why I'm here. Snap the fuck out of this Tobias. Focus.

"Um. Thanks, but you never asked what I wanted," says Maeve, frowning at the tumbler glass I place in front of her. She picks up her drink and sniffs. "Vodka and…?"

"Oh." I look at my whiskey soda. Am I that lost in myself that I ordered drinks without registering where I am? "Vodka and cranberry."

"Okay, but I only want the one," she tells me. "You should avoid drinking too."

The guy behind the bar, spiked green hair and a generous number of piercings across his face and ears, holds out a card reader, but I dig into my pocket for cash. We don't leave footprints from things like card transactions. Jamie's taught me that.

Jamie, who I'm on the verge of calling to join us in case I lose concentration all together, waiting for the proverbial skeletons to jump from the shadows.

"Have you sensed something?" Maeve asks quietly. "You're really distracted."

"I'm sure you can detect there's a lot of... conflicting energies around."

"Right, and yes." She sips, looking at me over the glass, big blue eyes brim-full of concern. "That'll make things quicker and easier, right?"

I hope so. "Yes."

"What's wrong?" Maeve sets the drink down. "Is there someone here we should worry about?"

I shake my head, I hope not.

"Let's find some weak-minded kids and get this done as soon as we can," I say, and she frowns at my sharp tone. "So that the others don't worry too much."

"This isn't my type of place. People will tell I'm uncomfortable."

I glance at Maeve. I've tried bloody hard not to touch her bare skin, and I run a finger along her soft cheek. "Believe me, I don't want to hang around."

The bar crowds with people ordering drinks as their first port of call, and I wind an arm around Maeve to draw her closer as a girl bumps into her. She's human and oblivious. I'd suggest we find a quiet corner to scout from, but none exists in this place.

Witches and vamps. Younger looking ones. Locate thoughts and leave.

Hand firmly in Maeve's again, I pull her away from the bar and towards the steps to a mezzanine. A wrought iron staircase, twisted and ornate, spirals up and they clang as we climb them and reach the balcony overlooking the group below.

I lean on the balustrade to watch the people in the dance of lights and shadows; we're partially hidden in the dim, observers of the spectacle but a world away from these people.

"Can you read minds from this far away?" asks Maeve.

"No. But I can spot someone worth approaching more easily. Slightly quieter up here, too."

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