Page 7 of Last Ride of the Umbra Fae

“You never do,” I said, much softer than I’d anticipated. Between the two men in my life, I was always left with my own thoughts. Everyone was too damn depressed and sad to have a decent conversation these days. “You really should go sit next to that gentleman playing the piano. I know how much music soothes you.” Anything to get my empty seat back. He thought about it for a moment. His eyes creased at the corner as he observed the pianist. He was just his type—elegant, suave, and talented, with veins full of sweet, tantalizing blood. Besides, birds always liked a good song. Unfortunately, his eyes were on me tonight.

Hells.

“You were supposed to get a room and wait upstairs when you walked in, not risk exposing yourself to these assholes. You’re too obvious,” he said.

I sighed, slowly lifting my gaze to catch him studying the freckles across my nose.

Too close, too intimate.

“It’s not my fault I’m a shiny bitch. Besides. . .” I spun around in my stool to face the crowd. “I think I might want to dance tonight.”

Raven ran a hand down his face, groaning.

“If you don’t dance with me, someone else will,” I teased. But as I turned to leave, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me against his hard, massive body, trapping me between his thighs.

“Sit the fuck down, Vessa. You’re drunk.”

Lies.

Maybe I was just tired of the same old routine. Maybe I just wanted to forget the pain my body was in and douse it with the best drinks stolen nara coins could buy so I could wake up regretting it tomorrow. Anything to feel alive, because the truth was, I was dying. Thankfully, the magic coursing through me was strong enough to sever a part of the connection to Raven, or else he would have known. I felt it in my blood, as if death itself was calling me from some distant place. I was gravitating toward it like a dying star.

Every. Single. Day.

Which was why I needed that fucking tonic.

I moved to take a step back. Another squeeze of his thighs anchored me where I stood.

Caged.

He pulled me closer to him, his minty breath huffed across the mark on my sternum. Ignoring what that might have done to me if I’d accepted the bond, I snuffed it out.

“Your hands are too clean to touch someone like me, bird,” I hissed. “Besides, you didn’t say please.” With just a thought, a shadow lurched forward, wrapping around Raven’s neck. “You look better collared,” I said, allowing my inside thoughts to roam freely. I slightly pursed my lips, watching him exhale another deep breath at my words. He saw a flash of anger in my eyes, a mirror of his own deeply-rooted scar as he remembered how it had felt to be trapped and sold on the market as a young boy before Pa had saved him.

Trapped.

He had been tied to me without a choice. The silence was choking him more. His grip loosened, jaw clenched. He hated feeling that way.

Raven’s gaze flicked to mine. “Please,” he growled through his teeth. “Sit down.” The murmur was low enough for just the two of us to hear. Anger flushed his pale skin. With my freehand, I patted the side of his angled face before flicking away a strand of dark hair from his eyes. The shadow I held around his neck dissipated into the air. Another sigh, and he let go of my wrist and loosened the grip of his thighs. He looked around, but no one had seemed to notice our dispute.

“You will be my demise someday,” Raven murmured again.

Unaffected by his words, I said, “You have always been mine.”

A grin curved my lips as I rested both elbows against the bar, looking out at the crowd.

“See, humans are simple,” I said, ignoring the tinge of hurt that I might have caused him internally. I cared about his stupid feelings, but mine would always be before his. Pa was getting up, making his way toward the end of the bar. Raven took that as his sign to leave. His job here was done. “Wasn’t that a lot easier?” I asked, sitting back down on the stool. But he walked out the door without another word.

I heard Pa speaking to the lady, likely asking for two rooms. His gruff voice was always a low rumble, thundering beneath the clamor of the room. He carried on a straight-to-the-point conversation with the woman, who gave him a second glance as he strode away. Then she looked at me, smiling curtly as he disappeared into the crowd looking for another table to swindle.

A few moments passed. I was already on my second drink when another figure obscured the light beside me, taking a seat where Raven had been.

“Seat’s taken,” is all I said, shoulders hunched, leaning my elbows onto the hardened wood while I swiveled the ice in my glass. The sound brought comfort to my aching bones and encouragement to drink more.

“Judging by that interaction, I don’t think your lover’s coming back,” he said. His words were enough to turn my head, my heart a pummeling beast against my chest.

“Don’t worry, Desert Storm, your secret is safe with me.” His whisper was a fearless gale sending a warning across my horizon. My ears grew hot as I flicked my gaze to his, finding a pair of pale-blue eyes peeking out from dark, tousled hair that framed his face. He sat facing the crowd with his elbows resting on the bar and one leg sprawled out as the bottom hem of his black coat brushed against the filthy saloon floor. Something caught in my breath as he continued to stare. A wave of mixed emotions swept down my spine in a frost-bitten shudder. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I only had a few seconds to decide if I should kill him; he’d seen who we were. And since he had called me a storm, I was suddenly in the mood for a knife fight. My mouth gaped open as the insult washed over me.

Before I could speak, Pa came up from behind. “I see you’ve met Vessa,” he said to the man who had broad, wide shoulders and a look so penetrating, it held me beneath his stare. The bastard smirked, finding humor in my shock. I quickly closed my mouth, holding back the darkness coiling through me.

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