Page 66 of Dark Night Golden Dawn
It had killed Harlow to be left, but she’d always wondered if their days were numbered. Kate had always leaned more towards polyamory, and Harlow was never quite capable of that. Not that she judged the practice, like humans did; it just wasn’t right for her, and it was for Kate. It would have been a problem eventually, but this way they never had to find out.
“Do you want to go out, do something fun?” Kate asked, downing the last of her tea.
It would be nice to go do something fun, something normal, but Harlow was exhausted. She felt like she could sleep for days, and she wanted to see Axel. “No, thanks. I’m going to go home and sort myself out. Can I use your phone to call a cab?”
Kate pulled her phone from her pocket. “No service. I’ll go ask the bartender to call for you, okay?”
“Thank you,” Harlow said. “I’m going to run to the bathroom.”
Once there, she smiled at herself in the mirror. She was glad she’d run into Kate. This conversation closed a door for her that left the one Finn had opened a shining possibility. Mark always made her feel like no one had ever wanted her but him, and that no one else ever would, but she saw that for what it was now: pathetic lies. He’d had to lie to her constantly, manipulate her into a muddled mess to get her to stay with him. Hewaspathetic.
She returned to the table to find Kate with her jacket on. “I’ve gotta run. Your cab will be here in five. I’ll be in town for a bit for business. I’ll probably see you at some of the season events, if you’re going to any more.”
“We’ll definitely be at the Solstice Gala,” Harlow said, marveling at her easy use of “we.”
Kate kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you then. Make up with Thea, all right? She means well.”
Harlow had used the same words to describe Thea’s prissy, rude behavior a thousand times. Her heart twinged a bit to hear Kate say it back to her now. She nodded and watched her ex go.
Kate was so good, so free, but Harlow didn’t regret that it was over. Maybe she was free now too, or closer anyway. She tried to pay the tab, but found Kate had already done so. As she walked through the bar to the cab waiting outside, she felt watched, just like she had at the Metro. Her skin crawled under the pressure of unseen eyes, and she realized she’d forgotten to tell anyone about that. Suddenly, that seemed like a misstep.
She turned slowly, pretending to fix something about her shoe. There was no one suspicious looking in the bar. A few sorcières she knew waved from the corner booth, by the hearth, their smiles a bit cautious, but mostly friendly. She waved back. The rest of the bar was empty. Perhaps she was imagining things. Her shadows swelled inside her in a way that was new to her.
Show me, she urged them.What am I missing?
There it was, just slipping away—motion at the back of the bar. The heavy back door was swinging shut, very slowly. Someone had been in the back, watching her and Kate. But who? She bit her bottom lip. There was nothing she could do about it now.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
As soon as she slid into the backseat of the cab, Harlow knew something was wrong. The doors locked immediately and there were no handles on the inside of the cab anywhere. When the cabbie turned, she looked into the eyes of a vampire—cold and milky, a sure tell they’d been drinking fresh human blood. Vampires who drank blood bank fare had eyes like everyone else.
Harlow’s stomach clenched instinctually. It wasn’t illegal to drink from willing humans, but she doubted that Athan Sanvier, Olivia’s cousin and a baron of the House of Remiel, the high house of the Order of Night, gave a fig about willingness. He had a reputation for cruelty that never seemed to deter humans, but scared her to her core. Being alone with Athan Sanvier was the last thing in the world she’d ever choose.
“Hey there, little witch,” he drawled. “Heard you were looking for a ride. I’d be happy to oblige.”
Harlow swallowed hard. “Let me out, Athan, or you are going to find yourself in worlds of trouble.”
He didn’t respond, pulling away from the curb. She cursed herself for leaving the Monas without her phone. “Does Olivia know you’re doing this?”
Athan smiled in the rearview mirror. “I think you mean ‘does Mark know I’m doing this,’ don’t you?”
That honestly hadn’t occurred to Harlow, but now her stomach soured. Would he really go this far to get back at her for taking Axel back? Surely he couldn’t care that much. He’d been treating the cat terribly.
Athan smiled again, clearly not meaning to tell her. Panic crept into her veins, thrumming like a drum that drowned out all thought. Harlow struggled to keep her head.
Think, Harlow, she commanded herself. The sun was low in the sky, which meant she had only a few minutes to escape without Athan being able to easily follow.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
Athan shook his head, smiling again. The smile spoke of how much he enjoyed pain. It wasn’t a vampiric trait to be vicious, Kate and her House were evidence of that, but vampirism did seem to amplify certain personality traits more than others, and aggression and sadism were both commonly magnified.
In Athan’s case, rumor had it that he enjoyed inflicting the kind of psychological pain that left people broken and bitter for years. No wonder Mark sent him. This all made too much sense. While she could not be compelled like a human, there was plenty he could do to torture her, if he so chose. Sorcières were not entirely immune to vampiric magics and he was certainly strong enough to overpower her physically. Her heart fluttered wildly in response to this thought.
“You don’t want to do this, Athan,” she warned again. “You don’t want to be in trouble with the Illuminated.”
Athan laughed. “Once we’re through with you, the Illuminated won’t be able to do a damn thing to me.”
That was an odd thing to say, but Harlow didn’t have time to puzzle it out. She rolled her eyes, acting braver than she felt. “Don’t be foolish, Athan. You can’t do more than torture me and you know it.” Murder between the lower Orders was so stringently punished that there had not been a single incident in over a hundred years.
