Page 23 of Last Ride of the Umbra Fae

He sounded annoyed, as if irritated I was so misinformed about the world around me. He didn’t need to take pity on me or be angry at the choices Pa had made.

“He has good reason.” My jaw tensed, wondering how I could see the glamor now but not before, as if something in me had suddenly changed. Too many questions I had no answers to.

Whatever flashed in my eyes, he wanted to grab on to it and rein in it.

“Secrets?” Ryder purred, swishing the ice in his drink. “I’d love to know why he keeps you so close.” He tilted his head slightly with curious eyes glowing against his tan skin from above the bandana, trailing over the curves of my face.

I yanked his bandana down. “When all you have left is each other, the normal thing to do is hold on to one another a little tighter.” My brows furrowed. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, cowboy?” I poked the hard plain of his chest, ignoring how firm he felt beneath my touch.

He immediately tensed, and his calloused hands tightened into fists. He knew how to push, and I knew how deep to cut, so I smiled wickedly in response.

Then I continued, “My thoughts exactly. Do not judge or cast pity my way. I will squash you, ruin you, maybe.” I closed the space between us so only he and I could see my tendrils of shadows unfurling as they snaked up his body between his pecs. “I’m known for ruining everything I touch, so I’d be careful where you pry.”

Moments passed, and the tension was palpable. When Ryder smiled, it was like looking into a mirror. I felt something rough move around my waist, but before I could react, whatever the hells it was tugged me into his space. I gasped at the motion.

He leaned forward, whispering into my ear. “Why does that sound so tempting coming from you, Desert Storm?”

My eyes darted down to a wispy, ebony rope tightening around my waist.

“What the hell is this?” My fingertips roam over the lasso.

He took a bite of his black licorice, grinning. “I have secrets too.”

Over my shoulder, Ryder caught sight of what I assumed was Pa. He gave a knowing tilt of his hat before slowly moving his eyes back to me.

“I guess we will have to play tie-up later.”

17

Ryder

Vessa was playing this game where she couldn’t decide if she wanted to hate me or fuck me. I was a greedy bastard for wanting both. Just tolerating my existence was driving her mad, and I knew I had the lead the moment she blushed, making her bronze skin rosy. Honey and vanilla filled the air in her absence, her breath a phantom caress across my lips. The swell of her breasts had done that little shake when I’d tugged her with my rope and left me with a swelling cock. Her threats were like honey on my lips, and I wanted more.

Seeing her reaction washed away the image of Raven sleeping beside her. Waking up to find his arm wrapped around her body had been enough for me to want him dead. He was a constant plague swirling around her.

I watched Vessa stride away, moving through the room like she owned it. She would always belong in any crowd she waltzed into. She was the kind of woman who would make men bend a knee if they felt otherwise.

Call her a demon, hellion, or whatever the fuck else people said about the Umbra Fae, but deep down inside, I had a feelingshe was good. It was intriguing to see behind Vessa’s hardened gaze, witnessing her in those moments we’d shared inside a quiet existence.

She was reckless and untamed in a world where most fae were either dead or bent at the knee by the threat of Fang, who had the source of their Eternal. Once she discovered what Fang had been doing with the Elemental Fae and the Eternal stone, she might change her course of action.

Through the crowded tavern, I watched her speak with End’s Wrath as her dark hair and sun-kissed highlights swayed back and forth. I studied his face for a reaction to see what sort of conversation they were having. As promised, he reached into his coat pocket, handing her the tonic and what I assumed was the key to her room. I took that as my sign to leave to see what this apocalyptic piece-of-shit town had to offer. I was suddenly in the mood for something sweet.

18

Vessa

Tonight was different. I felt a sense of freedom as I roamed through the crowd. Maybe it was the confinement of a mask and the relief that hit once I pulled it down. Everyone seemed pleasantly engaged with one another. I dragged my gaze away from a man and woman, who were nothing but clashing mouths and roaming hands as I squeezed past them, smiling in passing. There were candlelit alcoves lining the wall and deep crimson wallpaper with a dark damask design sprawling across the entire room, giving the whole tavern an elegant appearance in its own ominous way. A vast difference from the other taverns I had been to. There weren’t any windows, which explained the overuse of candles.

“Not a shithole this time, Shadow,” Pa said, sipping on his drink as he took in the crowd. The amber liquid reminded me of shimmering gold as it peeked through his gloved fingers. “Shithole,” was usually our way of indicating if there were any leads to the tonic or not, but tonight, he really just meant this place was nice. A memory of him and Ma pushed to the front of my mind. They’d always ended their day by the fire with a drink in their hands, quietly talking beneath the stars.

His gray bandana hung low upon his neck, and when he smiled, the creases in his eyes overlapped just a little. He looked…happy for once.

“Definitely not. You did good this time,” I said, patting his arm.

He chuckled. “The whiskey goes down just right,” he said, facing the bar as he waved the boy down for another.

Shortly after, he reached for the inside of his pocket and pulled out a vial of tonic. I quickly slipped it into my pocket. Then he handed me a key. “Let me show you where we will be staying tonight.”

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