Page 33 of Howling Eve

“All right,” MaryAnne replied quietly, and the fabric fell between them with a heavy swish.

Raskyuil stood there for a long moment, flexing his hands as he attempted to regain control of himself. With a loud huff, he stalked away, putting some distance between himself and the door flap to assure her privacy. He wasn’t expecting her to smile up at him as if he’d gifted her something precious when she joined him again, but it stoked his heat all the same.

He barely choked out a coherent response to her announcement that she was ready before he was leading her through the carnival, introducing performers and pointing out various tents and sights of the carnival as they passed to help familiarize her with the layout of her new home for the time being.

Not that it looked very hospitable. With the low-hanging fog, the gloom from the slowly fading daylight, and the lamps swaying lightly in the breeze, the entire carnival looked like something inhabited by disembodied spirits—creatures of the fae world without form to trap or contain them. It was thankfully still light enough to easily see so his mate wasn’t walking in darkness, but there was an uneasy look on her face as they passed wagons and tents. Dark shadows raced along the ground and roved along the sides of the tents and wagons as if they were living entities themselves. Probably were in some cases, as far as he knew.

On the stairs of one wagon a male with violet scales watched them as they passed as he stabbed his blade deep into the pumpkin in front of him. Thetwunkof his blade driving into the orange flesh made MaryAnne jump, her small hands immediately closing around his tail. Desire shot through him, stiffening his cock anew, though he bit back his groan of desire and snarled at the other male who smirked and rose upon his coiled tail in subtle challenge, his eyes flashing with bloodlust even as they flickered with obvious interest toward MaryAnne.

Raskyuil growled, his muscles tensing for a fight, but small hands pushed gently against his back, however, informing him that his mate wished to keep moving. There was such a quiet desperation to that touch that his heart melted a little bit, and with one arm he drew her out from behind him and close to his body as they continued along the path, the male’s mocking laughter and thethunkof the knife carving into the gourd following after them.

One thing was certain: his mate drew just as much attention if not more than she had upon arrival. Word of the Ha’shena had clearly spread, and the whole carnival was now curious about her. As insular and close-kit as the carnival performers tended to be, this didn’t surprise him. She was his, and by extension she was theirs. She would find her footing there and hopefully find allies who might further assist them in their search.

Perhaps the drya twins themselves if Ayla didn’t still hold a grudge.

ChapterTwenty-One

The drya twins were both horrific and spectacular. With their sleek dark red hair, amethyst eyes, and slender bodies except for the pear-like shape of their rounded hips, they were willowy and beautiful in a delicate way, right down to their little pointed ears. There was something sinister about those smiles, their lips thin and their fangs prominent.

MaryAnne froze, feeling very much like a butterfly caught in a web as the sisters stepped out of the shadows of the partitioned areas of their large tent and into the light of the candles scattered along the table and various stands. The light did not extend far into the tent, showing hints of various shadowy forms suspended on webbing hanging from the ceiling. MaryAnne shivered and tried not to look at it, uncertain if it would be considered impolite.

What if it’s the leftovers of old meals that they have stored up there, or something more personal?Whatever was hanging from the ceiling, nothing was large enough or resembled anything child-shaped so that was where her curiosity ended. Wherever the children were, she was relieved to note that they were at very least not hanging in spider silk and suspended from the ceiling. MaryAnne swallowed thickly, dropping her gaze to the table in the center of the room once more as one of the sisters smiled and brought out an elegant tea service.

More tea? She wasn’t sure she understood the preoccupation with tea, but she kept her opinions to herself and smiled politely when they gestured for her to join them. Raskyuil’s heavy frame settled into the chair at her left, not bothering to wait for an invitation, and she couldn’t help but to note that the sister sitting farthest from him, and directly across from MaryAnne, refused to so much as glance in his direction while the other acknowledged him with a smile that appeared apologetic. There was some small grievance there, MaryAnne was sure, but she suspected that the tea would be spilled, and she would hear all about it from the twins eventually, so she didn’t waste too much time wondering about it.

“So you’re the human,” the one across from her observed in a clipped, cool voice as she picked up the black teapot and began to pour.

“Yes,” MaryAnne agreed as her fingers searched out, found, and sank into Raskyuil’s thigh for support as she eyed the stream of dark liquid filling the cups.

She glanced over at him shyly, embarrassed by her own clinginess. But when she would have withdrawn her hand, his hand slid over hers, capturing it against his thigh, and she felt the gentle stroke of his wraith-like dark tail slipping unseen through the shadows around the table to brush against the back of her arm. She shivered initially, but then it curled just behind her and settled around her waist. Its heat was a gentle reassurance as its tip twitched and flicked gently in place.

Little by little she was able to relax as the teacups were filled one by one, each cup obviously a part of a perfectly matched little tea set. Unlike the simple metal teapot that Raskyuil kept with his plain, mismatched cups, the porcelain looked like something her grandmother would have collected and displayed in her china hutch.

In fact, the tiny pink flower motif on the sides of the teapot and cups made it almost whimsical, which seemed ill matched with the sinister tent with its hidden clutter and heavy webs texturing the shadows where they were spun. The delicate femininity of it all surprised her, but she hid her reaction behind a murmur of thanks as she accepted the teacup handed to her.

The female across from her nodded, her amethyst eyes narrowing on her speculatively. It made MaryAnne feel even more like she was being regarded as if she were a curious—and possibly tasty—bug. She shifted uneasily in her seat, and Raskyuil’s tail tightened comfortingly around her.

“I’m not exactly sure how I’m supposed to help,” she said quietly as she took a cautious sniff of her tea. There was an overly sweet smell and bitterness in sharp contrast to it that made her want to wrinkle her nose. It was nothing like Raskyuil’s tea, but she took a tiny sip of it anyway and swallowed before it could linger on her tongue too long. “I don’t know anything about divination.”

“Prognostication is a fine art but not one for which everyone is truly gifted. I do not excel at it personally, nor do I enjoy being ordered about by Nivira, which is why you will be doing it while I perform in another tent.”

“Ayla dances the silk,” the other, Nivira, confided quickly, her eyes lighting up with delight as the other nodded with a pleased smile on her face at her sister’s enthusiasm. “Few embrace the art of dance like the drya, and Ayla has mastered many dances that she shares with the audience.”

“Shares a little too much if you ask me,” Raskyuil commented dryly, and MaryAnne quickly pinched his thigh, not wanting him to antagonize the twins.

Ayla’s eyes narrowed further to slits as she glared at him, the shadows gathering around her, and something moved behind her, drawing them forward and spinning them. “I share nothing that isn’t asked for, troll. And what room do you have to object when you return to us with a human? Those who desire my favor and the bliss of my bite beg for it,” she snapped.

Raskyuil snorted is disbelief, and MaryAnne dug her fingernails in harder as she glanced over at him in warning. What was with him? The last thing she wanted was for the drya twins to be insulted and possibly retaliate. She was supposed to be finding allies, not making enemies before she even had a chance to start looking for her kids.

And that was not counting the fact that however elegant they appeared, there was something dangerous about them that made her skin prickle instinctively. Although they kept their extra appendages tucked away, she had caught glimpses of the slender legs unfolding to caress their hanging silk as they ventured from the shadows. She had no doubt that they could pounce at a moment’s notice.

Apparently, he didn’t notice her silent signal, or simply didn’t understand what she was trying to communicate because, although the tip of his tail twitched against her belly, his expression hardened as he regarded Ayla. “We shall see, but you know the rules, Ayla. And you know that I’m just here to enforce them as Elwyn directs. He has said as much that he would make an exception for Ha’shena should you find it.”

Ayla scoffed, and Nivira winced at her side as she shrank back from her bolder sister. “Drya do not have Ha’shena! The concept is absurd. We mate freely when we choose.”

“And kill males, draining them of their life and blood if they can’t get away,” Raskyuil countered with an arched eyebrow. “Yes, I am familiar with drya, and we both know that a human cannot escape your web like one of your own kind can.”

“And yet you would trust us with your little human,” she hissed venomously as she jumped to her feet and Nivira’s gaze snapped to her in surprise as a low growl rattled from Raskyuil.

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