Page 9 of Shadows of Fate

I took a deep breath, looking away from him again. “This isn’t the time for this conversation, Micah. You’re dismissed.”

I shifted my focus back to the middle of the tavern where the females were dancing, my posture relaxed as I took a sip of my bourbon. I heard Micah leave without a word. I knew he wouldn’t leave me alone there; he’d have some of my Shadow Brigade stationed around the building, so they weren’t seen by others.

For the last several weeks, there had been a string of missing women, both vampire and human. As if that weren’t enough, around the same time, male vampires started dropping dead around my entire court—especially here in the city of Darkmoor. My inner circle had been subtly investigating it for the last moon cycle, but so far we have had no leads. I wasn’t sure if the incidents were connected at all, but I couldn’t wait until someone else told me so.

As Micah exited, I felt my chest tighten. Pulling any sort of rank on my closest friend always left me feeling defeated. I hadn’t sought out this position and I enjoyed my inner circle feeling more as a team—a family.

I glanced over toward the entrance as a female entered the tavern. Her hair was long—easily halfway down her back, the soft curls swaying with her hips. The color reminded me of white silk spun with moonlight. Her tall curvy frame was wrapped in a tight, silky, red dress that resembled the deep color of blood. She stopped in the middle of the room where everyone was dancing and looked in my direction. That’s when I noticed her ice-blue eyes, and they were staring directly at me.

Everything in me screamed to rise and walk toward her. Touch her. Claim her in front of everyone. Let it be known amongst all four courts to whom she belonged. I gritted my teeth at the thoughts running rampant through my head.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

Instead of rising, I decided to drop my shadows, revealing myself fully to her. Her eyes widened and her dark wine-colored lips parted slightly. I smirked and nodded my head once toward her as I brought my shadows back up and around me, concealing me from view again.

I watched as she shook her head and wandered through the throngs of dancers, putting distance between us.

That’s fine. I could find her anywhere. She could run, but she couldn’t hide. Not from me.

* * *

I’d been at The Arcane Theater for a while. I’d walked through the crowds, hidden. Following a few males whom I considered targets. So far, nothing had worked out in my favor.

I returned to my corner booth, wishing my refreshed tumbler of bourbon was blood. Normally at this point in the night, it would be. But I was craving something warm and icy blonde. She was still here somewhere—it was as if my shadows could sense her.

It was as if the sight of her had somewhat cured my recent spell of boredom and transformed it into a full-blown obsession with this female.

I’d done my best not to seek her out, but my subconscious, and my shadows, had other intentions. I let my eyes start to wander over the people remaining in the tavern. It was getting late, so the crowd had started to disperse not long ago.

Normally I’d call it a night, heading back to the manor, considering it a loss of blood, but a win if no one was hurt. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew something was coming.

My court was under attack from within our own walls, and I couldn’t sit by idly. That wasn’t how I’d obtained my position, and it wouldn’t be how I kept it.

A flash of silver caught my attention, pulling me from my inner grumblings. She was leading a male toward the door—her hand in his, a soft coy smile gracing her beautiful face as she glanced back toward him.

Pain brought my gaze away from her and toward my palm. Watching as my blood dripped to the marble floor, I set the remainder of my glass tumbler on the table next to me. I watched as my shadows swirled around my already healed hand, and then around the broken glass. Destroying any evidence of what I’d done.

I rose from my seat and headed out into the darkness. The air was damp and filled with early morning fog. The moon reflected shyly from the sky, a sliver of white that reminded me of her hair.

Her scent hit me when I walked out, and I followed it. Raspberries and honey, just like the night I’d been out with Micah. I was suddenly telling myself it was only to ensure her safety—not to kill the male and claim her for myself. I hadn’t even been close enough to fully discern her scent yet, but Iknewit was hers nonetheless. All the dots connected. My magic inched down my arms like vines in search of her.

I walked down the cobblestoned streets away from The Arcane Theater, extending my senses in search of where she’d disappeared to. It didn’t take me long to realize I was close. I rounded a dark corner, peering down an alley when I saw her.

She was pressed against the wall of a stone building, the light of the moon reflecting off her porcelain skin in a way that made her almost glow. The blood-colored silk against her curvy body made my fangs itch in my gums. Her eyes were closed, that small smile still gracing her face as the male in front of her kissed down her neck. His hands dipped beneath her dress and along her thighs.

I’m not sure what made me stand there, hidden by my shadows, watching her take pleasure from another male. Masochism, maybe? After over six hundred years on this plane of existence, it would make sense that the Fates would send this female to me. Torture. Punishment. It fit.

At least I wasn’t bored anymore. No. This may be worse.

I watched her as she lifted her leg to wrap around his waist. Only that wasn’t what she did. With her head still back against the wall, she reached into her low-cut boot as she ran her leg up the side of his body. He wasn’t paying any attention to what she was doing as she pulled a dagger out with her right hand and then used her left to grasp the side of his face, pulling his chin up to look her in the eye.

He looked momentarily startled and tried to back away from her, only for her right leg to be locked around his waist. I wasn’t sure what he saw in her eyes, but it must have scared him. I watched in twisted amusement and startled arousal as she sank the dagger into the side of his neck—all in the span of a few moments. The smile never left her face, even as he fell to the ground trying to pull the knife out of his throat. It wouldn’t budge.

She squatted down next to him as he lay sprawled at her feet and pulled her dagger from his flesh. “It won’t heal fast enough for you to survive this, Rogan. Perk of ice magic, you see.” She shrugged as if this was a normal day for her, and maybe it was.

Why does that thought turn me on more?

She leaned down to whisper something in his ear too quietly for me to hear and I saw his mouth move slightly. A small smile graced her lips.

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