Page 2 of The Veil of Blood and Magic

The twins are just finishing up their act, and I take a minute to appreciate the way the pair work in unison to create a dance so intricate and beautiful it puts all my solo acts to shame. Ava catches Jez in a full aerial sweep, spinning and bending with her, flawlessly mirroring her every move.

Cheers erupt, and I grin as I take in the lust-ridden faces of the crowd. If they’re lucky, one of these bastards will earn a night with the twins, but the price is steep. Just like every other dove who’s up for sale here atThe Red Lion—they’re worth every penny.

The twins smile and interlock hands, bowing to the raucous applause of the audience, and hurry to scrape up the coins and paper strewn about their feet.

An overzealous admirer reaches for Jez’s ankle, but Ava tugs her sister back an inch, just out of reach.

For a second, I’m struck with a stab of jealousy. What I wouldn’tgiveto have someone in my life I could trust like that. Someone I could depend on. Someone who would catch me if I fell.

Someone who wouldn’t try to slit my throat the second they figure out what I am.

I shake off the ridiculous notion, heading to the stage while the twins finish collecting their goods, blowing kisses toward the crowd as they hold their previously shed clothes over theirbodies, making their way down the stage steps. I’m just about to take the first step up when my senses prickle, freezing me.

“I said no!”a familiar voice cries, the words reaching my keen ears over the roaring crowd.“Stop it. You’re hurting me?—”

In a blink, I’m gone, moving faster than any patron can see. I careen down one of the hallways that hold the private suites, crashing through a locked door at the end.

A mortal male reels backward, a knife in one hand as he hovers over a bleeding and very terrified-looking Lera, who is sprawled beneath him on the bed. She’s one of the most popular doves inThe Red Lionwith her flowing red hair and green eyes, and she’s an absolutesweetheart. Definitely not someone who would agree to blade play.

“She saidno,” I say, trying to keep my voice even as I step farther into the room.

“I didn’t order two dove-bitches,” the male says, eying me, his gaze lingering on the black corset cinched tight around my waist, leaving my cleavage on full display. “But I’ll take it if you’re offering.”

“I wasn’t.” I jerk my head toward the door. “Shift’s over, Lera.”

She flashes me a grateful look, moving to scramble off the bed, but the male jabs the knife in her direction and she jumps back. She already has two cuts across her thigh, little red droplets trickling from the thin lines.

The smell of her blood is like a summer rose. Saliva floods the back of my mouth, but I swallow down the craving.

“I didn’t say we were done here.” The male glowers at me like I just tried to clear his plate before he was done eating. “Get out.”

“You must’ve chosen wrong,” I say,reallydoing my best not to stir up shit in Aruk’s place. “Lera is a romance dove,” I explain. “You’ll want Delia for blade games.”

He smirks. “I don’t want someone whowantsit,” he says, motioning toward the bed. “You can try to stop me.”

A rancid burst overtakes the smell of Lera’s blood, the man’s desire tasting like spoiled milk. Goddess, he’s one of those mortals. The ones who find pleasure only when they’re taking from someone who isn’t willingly giving.

“You want to hurt me?” I ask, lowering my voice into the tone that ensures his attention is all for me.

“Oh, yeah,” he says, shifting his focus on me and away from Lera.

Good little mortal.

I keep my eyes locked on his, easily breaking through his lack of mental shield and attaching my will to his sense of being. His arms go slack at his sides as I fully take hold of him with my influence.

I don’t normally use this little tool in my arsenal because attracting attention to what I am is the last thing I want to do with outsiders. With my luck, someone will report what I am to the drifters, or worse, the collector core. More than that though, I’m all about consent, but this prick deserves it.

Stepping into his space, I drag my fingers down his chest and over his arm until I pluck the knife from his fingers.

“You are no longer welcome atThe Red Lion,” I whisper so only he can hear me. “Nod if you understand.” He nods, his eyes glazing over. “Lera gave you the best night of your life, so you gave her your entire purse.” He nods again, untying the small leather bag at his waist before handing it to a stunned Lera. “You will no longer touch or harm another living thing without their consent.”

“I won’t,” he says.

“Good,” I say. “Now leave.”

He walks out the door without so much as a glance back, and Lera and I both release a breath.

“Thank you,” Lera says, clutching the purse to her chest over the sheer pink nightgown she wears. “He wasn’t going to stop, and I couldn’t fight him off no matter how hard I tried.”

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