Page 33 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
“I’d expect nothing less.” Atlas flashed her one of his most devastating grins. “But there is no need for bloodshed…yet.”
Valaina curtsied. Davorin bowed. And then they blurred from sight, disappearing into the night before the first rays of sunlight could catch them.
Atlas raked his hands through his hair, then spun to face Caedian. “A fucking vampire fae? Have you ever heard of such a thing?”
“No, Your Highness.” Caedian worried his bottom lip, looking more than unsettled by the wealth of newly uncovered information. “Never.”
“Bleeding skies. How does that even happen?” Atlas walked over to the long table on the far wall, where bottles of liquor and empty glasses waited patiently to be enjoyed. He poured a hefty amount of honeyfire for himself and then another for his captain. “It sounds like something out of one of the horror novels my mother used to read.”
“Indeed, it does,” Caedian agreed.
They clinked their glasses together.
“Dravska.”
Atlas nodded once. “Dravska.”
Caedian downed his shot, then replaced the small glass on the table. “I’m afraid I have more slightly unfortunate news for you, Your Highness.”
The smoky sweet liquor burned Atlas’s throat, doing little to ease the swell of agitation gnawing away at him. “Lovely. What now?”
“Per your orders, I sent a scouting group of my three best soldiers to track Everinne and keep an eye on her.”
A sinking sensation seized Atlas’s gut. The alcohol turned rancid and his heart dropped.
“What did they discover?” he asked, dreading the answer.
“The good news is, she found employment.” Caedian shifted on his feet, uneasy. “The bad news is she’s working at the Mystic Obscura.”
“What?” Rage bubbled to the surface and his grip on the glass tightened until he thought it would shatter in his fist. “The Mystic Obscura is by invitation only, and the cost to get in is…”
Not something he would want her to pay. In this life or the next.
Fuck.
Atlas threw the glass against the far wall and it exploded, raining down like broken shards of ice. “How did she get in? How did she even find the place?”
It wasn’t easily done. The Mystic Obscura was hidden behind a heavy wall of glamour. One had to already know where they were going to even get there.
Caedian’s deep umber skin turned ashen. “That’s where the bad news gets worse, Your Highness.”
Great.
“Out with it, Captain,” Atlas growled.
“She was brought there by Jarek Zima.” Caedian’s voice grew cold. Brittle. “The demon summoner.”
“Fucking skies.”
Atlas seethed. He’dtoldher to stay away from Jarek, trusted that she wouldn’t be so fucking stupid. Fury ravaged him. He was pissed at her for being so mindlessly careless and furious with himself for not doing more to stop it. The Mystic Obscura was no place for her. Not to entertain, and certainly not to work. He knew firsthand what it was like inside those magical walls, he knew what theydidbehind those glamoured curtains.
Atlas stormed out of the reception room, heading for the far end of his wing. Opening one hand, he summoned a sleek blackhelmet. He would take hisarcanic volt, the two-wheeled vehicle would get him to her apartment faster than even his wings.
“Your Highness!” Caedian called out after him. “Where are you going?”
“To talk some sense into Everinne.” Atlas spared his captain a glance, his anger mounting with each passing second. “Before her brother finds out what she’s done.”
Eleven
