Page 73 of Fate Unchained

Her chest ached, and her breath hitched.

Kyril’s purr rumbled through her, and she settled against him. She ran her hand up his back, lightly teasing with her nails. It was better to let him take her away with pleasure until she stopped thinking about how their time was almost over. And it kept her from blurting out the things she really wanted to say. The things she wanted to ask him.

Because she knew his answers would only crush her.

28

Saturday afternoon shone with the chalky light of the mid-winter suns. Kyril grabbed Lilah’s hand and led her out the front of the hotel. Ever since he woke up, discomfort prickled between his shoulder blades, and it wasn’t because he was wearing a human shirt.

Bringing Lilah near Boris was a mistake. If Boris was at this secret gambling den, their plan would probably work, but he still didn’t like it, and he didn’t want to be in his human form if he was going to toss a spell at a chort lord.

It wasn’t only today’s plan that had his vulk side on edge. His instincts had never steered him wrong. They may have landed him in trouble many times, but they weren’t ever wrong. After taking Lilah last night, something deep inside him had come to life with a frenzy, clawing for its freedom.

He’d gone full vulk, and she’d been just as fierce. And when he was buried inside her, he’d wanted to bite her. Not nibbles at all the places she loved—he did that all the time—but a claiming bite. The one which would truly bind them like the rune poem said.

Somehow, he’d regained some control and stopped himself, but he was paying now. The instinct still howled and raged, not caring that a rune no longer bound him to Lilah.

He inhaled sharply and threaded his fingers more tightly with hers.

They crossed the street to the sidewalk, where a small figure, about four feet tall, with a thin face zipped out of view between two houses. A brownie. Kyril pulled Lilah closer to him and scanned the street. He’d gotten used to the busyness of Coromesto, and today looked like any other day. People in lined wool coats meandered up and down the street. Or loitered, going from shop to shop. Brownies lived in Coromesto, but they didn’t normally care about anything other than their own home and the people who lived in it with them. This one had been watching Lilah.

He kept watch, but the brownie didn’t show its face again.

He patted his waist where a long dagger lay hidden under his shirt and coat. In his pocket on the other side was Hazel’s spell, which would remove Boris’s masking. It was contained inside a toothpick case, something humans apparently carried around to pick at their teeth with. It wasn’t exactly a spell; it was more like a hex and had to be delivered like a dart. Kyril had to withdraw the case and open it, pointing the top toward Boris, and the hex would hit him. Hazel said the humans wouldn’t notice a thing, but with Boris being a chort, he might sense a chill, so it was best to try to get away quickly.

Vulk didn’t retreat.

He didn’t necessarily trust Hazel, but he did believe she knew what she was talking about, and if she said they needed Boris to lead them to the rune, then he’d pursue this chort however he needed to.

But he didn’t like it.

They walked a few blocks and turned down the street with the tea shop. Last night after Lilah fell asleep, he’d left Finn to guard her, and he and Zann had walked around the shop. There were only two entrances, the door facing the street and then a narrow door off what had to be the kitchen, as it opened into an alley heaped with garbage canisters full of rotting food. They’d found a place for Finn and Zann to hide, waiting in case they needed to leap in and attack, but Zann made it clear that was only if there was an emergency. Today was supposed to be a quiet operation. Get in, deploy the spell, then track Boris to another location where they could surprise him, the leshak, and hopefully Morana.

They approached the store with its green and white awning. He hadn’t paid much attention to the front of the shop last night. It was a tidy brick in an ornate, old style, with a large window under the awning with the shop’s name, Don’t Kettle For Second Best. He groaned. People came here by choice?

He opened the door for Lilah, then followed her in.

It was like a sun had thrown up. Bright yellow walls topped with ornate white cornices and matching yellow chairs were strewn about the room. The tables all had white tablecloths over them, the linen sweeping down to the floor. Soft conversation filled the air, as well as the pungent tang of tea. Lilah requested a table, and the host led them to a place near the window.

An ornate palm tree—seriously? A palm tree?—fanned out near his chair, the fronds tickling his arm. He stuck his leg out and pushed it closer to the table next to theirs. Music started from the far corner, a trio of strings, and a slow, waltz-like tune threaded through the room.

He hadn’t heard any music since leaving the vae territory several months ago, and his shoulders relaxed a fraction. If there was music and Lilah, this wouldn’t be the worst place he’d been sent to hunt someone.

Maybe only the second worst.

Lilah took the napkin off the table and spread it over her lap. “This is a lot fancier than a cave.”

“I know which I prefer.”

She grinned. Over the last couple of days, she’d buried herself in her books and hadn’t smiled much. Why hadn’t he noticed before now?

The server glided up to their table with a silver teapot and poured them both tea. “This is our special blend, only available here. A hint of bergamot, but with a pure melon flavor and a nice hit of woodsy taste at the end, like the best black teas offer.” He set the kettle down in the center of the table. “I’ll bring your platters of treats in just a few minutes.”

Lilah cocked a brow. “A woodsy taste.” She smiled the kind of smile she gave him when he pretended to let her take control in bed, and her gaze dropped to his mouth. “One of my favorites.”

His trousers were suddenly too tight.

He copied what she’d done with her napkin, placing it in his lap—couldn’t have the humans seeing he’d sported a stiffy—and leaned back in his chair. Scanning the room, he spotted several doors along the back near the bar, as well as towers of food. The people back there appeared to be mingling. “Without making it too obvious, point out how the gambling works in here.”

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