Page 91 of The Devil In Blue
I reached out, placing my hand lightly against her cheek. She was cold. All ravens were. I’d given them purpose, but I had never given them life. They were soulless, made from my flesh and bone to exist for me. Briar had a soul and I didn’t have to create any part of her. She was her own and I loved her for it. Briar had become a piece of me. My blood. My immortality. My everything.
. . .
Art. Music. Food. Weather. It was all different in the human realm. Norbrook was elegant, the history of the great city preserved in the walls of every building. In the fashions of every civilian. I chose to bring Briar to Highburn because it was where I preferred to visit if ever I had an itch to spend time among the mortals. They had the best of everything and the giant city was a melting pot of cultures that I knew Briar would enjoy.
And she did.
Dressed in a beautiful sunset red dress, she walked beside me, her arm hooked over mine. I’d glamoured us both, hiding the features that would turn heads. For me, it was my blue hair, which I turned black. My wings. My pointed ears. For her, it was her wings. In the Glyn, they were a beautiful blue-to-black color with glimmers of green at the tips. I didn’t design them. They simplywereas soon as I gifted them to her. Made from my blood, my essence, and our bond.
They were the only thing Briar was sad to say goodbye to when we stepped into the human world, but she was quickly distracted by all of the wonderful sights in Norbrook. The red-brick roads. The tall street lamps. The sun.
She loved the sun the most. The brightness. The warmth. And she looked absolutely stunning under the yellow glow. Her curious eyes lit up more than I believed possible and she wanted to look at everything. Every fountain, statue, park, and building.
“You’re laughing at me,” she said.
“Am I?”
I was. Because she brightened my soul with the way everything mattered to her. Everything was perfect and exciting. Thousands of years had taken that appreciation for the mundane from me.
“It smells so strange here,” she noted as we walked down a narrower street filled with taverns, restaurants, and markets. She took a deep breath. “No flowers. No water. Just food and drink.”
“You’d have to find nature to smell the flowers.”
“I wonder where I lived. Before, I mean. Before I died.”
“By the looks of you, you were from the north. From any place with no sun,” I chuckled. But in truth, I never even tried to figure out where she came from. As far as I was concerned, she was born the day I found her. “If we stay in Norbrook too long, you’re fair skin might burn.”
“Burn? Really?” She shielded her eyes to look up at the bright sky. “It’s like the solstice room but so much brighter. And this place is so much bigger.”
“It only looks bigger because you haven’t been far beyond the borders of Ferrothorn yet. The worlds are the same size.”
“But you said beyond the border is too dangerous.”
“It is. The world here is dangerous, too. But I don’t intend to let you go.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “It doesn’t seem very dangerous.”
“You have barely met any of the people here,” I smirked. “Hungry creatures. And you,” I quirked a brow. “Are exactly their taste.”
Narrowing her eyes, Briar tried to read into my meaning. “I know you’re warning me about something, but I don’t want to know what it is.”
“And you will never have to.” Pulling her in, I kissed the top of her head. “Now, the one thing humans do well is eat. Let’s find something.”
She nearly hopped with excitement. “I’d love that.”
In truth, I was talking of the shameful practice of trading fae in dark markets to high bidders. Fae were beautiful and their blood was valuable to those who knew how to harvest it. If anyone knew we were not human, we’d be targets. Especially Briar, who looked sweet and just innocent enough to snatch right out of my grip.
We found ourselves a patio restaurant with white, metal chairs and small glass tables meant only for two. Briar was so fond of the sun that we took advantage of the outdoor seating and had ourselves a lunch of stuffed goose breast and a dessert of fruit tart, which Briar particularly enjoyed. She had always loved food and every time she got her hands on something new, she peeled it apart in search of the ingredients.
“So I can make it myself,” she always said.
But I had yet to see her make anything successfully.
Once we’d finished our meal, we continued down the strip where horse-drawn carriages clopped down the streets. People in elegant fashions walked with their lace perusals over their neatly coiffed hair. Briar tried not to be obvious about her staring, but I couldn’t help but notice.
“These things are really quite eye-catching,” she said, running a hand down her cinched waist. “But not comfortable in the least.”
“The trends will change soon,” I said. “They always do. Perhaps the next one will not require ladies to be bound so tightly behind corsets.”
