Page 49 of A Realm of Fire and Ash

Her face reddens, still caught in the crosshairs of Vic's potent magic as she squirms in her seat. My fingers curl around her thigh, seeking to reassure her.

Morte's desperate eyes lock on mine. The hunger radiating from her is palpable, and my heart thuds wildly in my chest. She wraps her lips around her bottom teeth, trembling from the intensity of her desire as she stares at me, unable to look away.

Emeric's amused chuckle pierces the silence and I feel his eyes on me. "Ah, I see what's happening here," he says. "Are you going to help her out or do you need me to step in?"

Emeric catches my eye and a smirk tugs at his lips as he watches the incubus set up a table beside us. I feel an invisible force radiating off him, his eyes full of knowledge and silent understanding. Emeric eyes Morte hungrily, licking his lips as if tasting her already.

She glances at me nervously and I give her a nod of encouragement. "Phoenix fae from Bedlam," she says, and Emeric takes a sharp intake of breath.

"Can't say I've ever encountered one of you before," he says, taking a longer swig of his nectar wine. His eyes never leave Morte's face as she inches away from him, her gaze wary.

"Emeric is a hellhound," I add, trying to lighten the mood. "He bites."

Morte's mouth forms an O of shock and Emeric barks out a laugh, leaning in close to her.

"Don't worry," he drawls, his voice low and dangerous. "I only bite if you ask nicely." He winks at her and takes another sip of nectar wine.

"You on a mission?" I brace my hand against Morte's thigh, letting her know I'm still thinking of her, even though my attention isn't on her.

He nods. "Irid has me helping out during a meeting for the hunt. Says Aggonid's got a guest during it and I'm not to let anyone in or out without his say-so. Something about the upcoming Bedlam Moon." He thumbs through the napkins before pulling one out, scribbling something on it with a pen he had tucked in his leather jacket.

My eyebrows pinch as I absently trace a finger around the rim of my glass. "Aggonid's guest? Who?"

"Don't know. He didn't say, but I figure it's someone important if Irid doesn't want him getting disturbed." He frowns and takes another swig of his drink. "Sounds like trouble brewing."

Emeric turns back to Morte. "You be careful out there, okay?" He gives her a wicked look. "Especially with that stunning face of yours." He slides the napkin across the table towards her.

She glances at me before grabbing it, her cheeks turning a deep shade of pink as she turns it over. I peek over her shoulder and read the words with her:

He might have a big cock, but I've got two.

At the bottom, he's drawn a small map of how to get to his place.

Her head snaps up, her eyes wide with shock, but he's already disappeared. If it weren't so funny seeing that look on her face, I'd be pissed.

"Is it true?" she whispers, leaning in.

I snort and nod. "I'm surprised he didn't whip them out right here. Always showing off his prehensile appendages."

"Wait ... you mean he can control them?" Her face is twisted in horror. "W-what does he do with the other while one is in use?"

A half-smile curls my lips before I give her thigh a gentle squeeze. "Don't you worry, he never does anything with either one without consent." I lean back and take another sip of my drink, the alcohol buzzing through my veins. "Food's here." I nod to where Vic balances a tray on her hip.

The woman prowls towards our table, her lips curled back in a wicked smile as a malevolent stench of dark magic assails my nostrils. My stomach lurches and an invisible force crashes over us like an ocean wave, and I can feel Morte's hand trembling in mine beneath the table.

Vic sets our plates down slowly before us, allowing us time to suffer under the oppressive force of the woman's lust magic.

Morte ducks her head, refusing to make eye contact with the predator, her entire being focused on the plates before her. A whimper escapes her lips, and Vic's maniacal laughter fills the space before vanishing as suddenly as she appeared.

Taking a deep breath, Morte's eyes lift to find mine. "That was ... intense."

"Once you get your magic back, you'll be better prepared to resist." I reach for a fork to give to her.

"What kinds of magic can you do ... besides ..." She clears her throat.

"My specialty is in metals, a lot like dragon fae, except I don't hoard treasure. The easiest way to fuel my magic is to feed, where I get access to concentrated metals and energies. I can then use the magic to form, shape, and manipulate metal in whatever way I want." I pause, drawing in a breath as I turn towards her. "As a phoenix, you obviously can regenerate ... or could until recently, I assume?"

She nods, her gaze hardening as she stares at her plate. "For thousands of years, until one day I didn't come back." I strain to hear her words over the clamor of the tavern, so I lean in closer. “But while here, I died after being dragged across some type of metal grass."

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