Page 2 of Shadow Caster
Hard.
Our world was a lie, an illusion. The fanged and the hairy, the feyblood, and all types of scary hid in the shadows. We allowed the universal glamour that existed on the mortal plane to mute the effect of our unhuman irises and smooth out our fangs. We allowed it to hide our horns and scales so we could look human to the human eye. The Nightwatch claimed we were protecting the humans, but the truth was we were protecting ourselves.
It was all about saving our own asses, because if the humans wanted, they could kill the fuck out of us. Okay, not the most eloquent way to put it. But still. It was the truth. We had magic—weavers who could manipulate threads of arcana in the air, and make shit happen. But if it ever came to anusandthem, the humans had the weapons, the science, and the numbers to bring us down.
So, we played by the rules. We scuttled and hid during the day. Blended in where possible. But the night … The night was ours, and places like Ned’s Pit were dens of inequity where the supernaturals got to let their hair down and play. Didn’t mean the odd human didn’t sneak in. They were drawn to places like that, explaining away what they saw, blaming it on drugs and booze and fetishes. In a place like that, I didn’t need to use suggestion to get what I wanted. It was handed to me.
Blood.
My gums ached, my stomach rumbled, and then my cubicle came into view. The top of a tousled dark head peeked over the back of the seat. I inhaled, tasting him with my senses.
Male, young, probably early twenties.
Nice.
And then a hand wrapped itself around my bicep. “Indigo Justice, we need to talk.”
I looked slowly from the pale fingers gripping my olive skin up to the death-wish dude’s face, my expression flat. This was his cue to let go, but the douche seemed to be insensitive to the nuances of the very simple situation.
I guess I’d have to spell it out for him. “If you plan on keeping that hand, I suggest you remove it from my arm.”
He sighed and released me. “Miss Justice, I’ve been sent to retrieve you.”
I blinked at him in surprise. It had been almost six months since my father had tried this shit. I’d sent his men back bloody and bruised, and he’d left me alone ever since. I guess my grace period was up.
I puffed out my cheeks, not in the mood for another fight, especially not on an empty stomach. “Listen …”
“Earl.”
“Yeah, listen, Earl. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He smiled, showcasing his lethal fangs. “I don’t wish to hurt you either.”
“Oh, goody. Then we have an understanding. You can tell my father you tried to bring me back. Say I kicked you in the head and knocked you out. He’ll understand.”
Earl locked gazes with me. “You won’t leave here without a fight, will you?”
I clenched my jaw, biting back my irritation. “I won’t be leaving, period.”
He had one minute, and then I’d forget how hungry I was and stomp on his face. One minute to make the smart choice and fuck off.
He nodded. “Very well. It was a pleasure meeting you.” He took a step back, turned, and melted into the crowd.
I guess my reputation had preceded me. My gut twinged in a warning my stomach wouldn’t let me focus on. Food first, mental shit later. My snack awaited, and he was peering over the top of the seat, his warm brown eyes searching the crowd for me. I raised a hand as I approached. He shuffled along the seat to allow me to join him.
Slender, wiry, wide-eyed. Mmmm. “Hi, my name’s Indigo.”
His throat bobbed. “I know who you are.” His smile was shaky, nervous. “I’ve never been … bitten before.”
Ooh, a bite virgin. Ned, you dark horse. I stroked his arm. “Oh, you don’t have to be afraid. I promise this won’t hurt. In fact, you’re going to love it.”
He took a deep breath, exhaled, and then tipped his head to the side to expose his throat. His pulse beat fast, which meant the blood would flow faster. This would be a real hit to my system.
I sidled up to him, my body brushing his. God, he smelled good. Fresh like cotton and summer nights. My fangs elongated, sliding out from my gums with a snick, and then my mouth was sucking on his flesh, creating a seal. Perfect. He tensed, anticipating the penetration.
I stroked his chest to soothe him. There, there, pet. And then I sank my teeth into him. Sweet, coppery flavor rushed into my mouth. Yes. God, yes, I needed that. Still warm from the vein, it flowed down my throat and hit my stomach. I hadn’t realized how famished I was until that moment, until human blood was in my mouth. My gulps were too loud as I devoured my meal.
I needed to stop in a moment, but the hunger, which should have eased, flared hot and potent in my belly, and a red haze entered my mind. My taste buds registered the slight bitter undertone to the blood flooding my mouth and panic flared in my chest.
