He turned to another customer as I sat there, playing with my drink. I was so tense, so in need of release, but something just didn’t feel right about accepting Jahn’s proposal.
“I don’t think I can do it,” I whispered, staring at my glass.
“You can do anything you set your mind to.” That voice—Mr. Silk on Satin. Once again, something in his tone made me tremble.
I darted a glance to my right. Sure enough, it was the beautiful man again. “And who are you, to be interrupting my thoughts? And my fights?”
He arched an eyebrow and motioned to Jahn, who had just returned. The bartender’s expression clouded over.
“Sonyun Brandy. Warmed over a slow flame, please.” As the man tossed a handful of coins on the bar, he added, “And another drink for the lady.”
I was about to protest, but another glimpse of those baby blues shut me up.
“I take it you’re alone tonight?” he asked, turning back to me.
And then, I saw it—the sparkle of fire, the hint of magic. The man bled charm like a bee tree oozed honey.
He wasn’t a wizard, nor a witch nor a mage. A sorcerer? No, I’d sense the magic. Nor did he look like royalty. Sometimes the nobles of the Court slummed in the nightclubs, picking up lovers to use and abuse. I couldn’t figure out what game he was playing, but he intrigued me. I decided to accept his challenge. I’d learned to bluff from the best.
As Jahn let out an irritated grunt and moved off to warm up the man’s brandy, I suddenly remembered his offer. Shit, I was being rude, and to a sweet guy, at that. But ignoring the man sitting next to me would be as hard as ignoring the pressure between my thighs.
I shifted on the bar stool. “Am I alone? That depends on who’s asking. And you haven’t answered my question yet.”
The man smirked. “No, I haven’t. Consider it a lesson in patience, which you obviously need, the way you’re fidgeting in your seat.”
Blushing, I slammed down my drink and stood. I leaned close and whispered, “You might like to play with pussycats, but you’re not getting near mine. Not unless you can give me a damned good reason.”
As I started for the door he reached out and lightly placed two fingers on my arm, not holding me, just ever-so-slightly touching. A ripple raced through my body. I grabbed for the counter, steadying myself as he swung in behind me and rested a hand on my side—tracing the curve of my waist with the lightest of pressure.
“Leaving so soon, beautiful?” he whispered, leaning close to my ear. “I was just starting to enjoy myself. I don’t often meet women who can hold their own. I hope you aren’t offended that I interfered in your tête-à-tête back there. I have no doubt you would have taken that idiot down alone, but I can’t stand louts. They offend my senses.”
The breath from his lips washed over my neck and I pressed my thighs together. I’d met plenty of gorgeous Fae over the years—hell, I was half-Fae myself and knew how to use glamour, but this was more than glamour. This was like being swept out to sea by a riptide of hunger. I wanted to strip naked and throw him down on the counter.
“Camille? Can I speak to you? Alone.” Jahn set a snifter of brandy on the counter. “Here’s your brandy. Why don’t you let the lady go?”
Without missing a beat, the dark man said, “Mind your business, barkeep. She’s a grown woman. She’ll tell me if she wants me to leave her alone.”
I didn’t move.
“Camille, please, I need to talk to you.” Jahn gave me a strained look and I reluctantly broke away. In a fog, I followed him to the end of the counter.
“That’s the man who helped me out. Do you know him?”
“Oh, lovely.” Jahn narrowed his eyes. “Not by name, but he’s a Svartan. Surely you know what that means, girl.”
I frowned, thinking for a moment, then understanding broke through. A Svartan…one of the Charming Fae, as cunning in nature as they are sexual. As predatory as they are suave.
“I didn’t realize…” I glanced back at the man, who raised his snifter in salute, then took a long, slow sip.
Jahn let out a little groan. “Girl, promise me you aren’t going to sleep with him. Please? Even if you don’t sleep with me, for the love of the gods, do not get mixed up with the likes of him.”
I listened to what he was saying. I really did. But the entire time, my gaze was fastened on the Svartan. After a moment, I let out a little sigh. Roche wasn’t here and he wasn’t going to come. Not tonight. Another wild-goose chase. Another black mark against my name.
“I think I’d better go home for the night,” I said, feeling defeated. “Thank you, Jahn, for everything.”
As I gathered my purse and turned to go, I realized that I couldn’t just leave it at that. Feeling Jahn’s disapproving stare follow me, I walked back to the Svartan and deliberately laid one hand on his arm.
He glanced down at my hand, then up to meet my eyes. “Yes?”
“Camille te Maria. I’m in here a lot. Next time—and I trust there will be a next time—ask before you intervene.” I sauntered toward the curtains cordoning off the exit, then paused in midstep to call over my shoulder. “Remember, stranger. You still owe me your name.”
As I swept out the door, I could feel him watching me. But I didn’t look back.
“What do you know about the Svartans?” I asked my father that evening after dinner.
Sephreh ob Tanu jerked his head up from where he was polishing his dress sword, his brow lined, a worried look in his eyes. They reflected the violet of my own, and his hair was the same color as mine—raven black and woven in a shoulder-length braid. I took after him. My sister Delilah took after our mother—golden-haired and tanned, and Menolly…well, no one knew where her burnished copper locks came from.
“What have you gone and done now?” He sounded positively overjoyed. Not.
I shrugged. Father was cagey. I’d have to walk softly because I could already sense the storm brewing in his voice.
“I saw one in the club tonight.” With a little luck, Jahn wouldn’t breathe a word to Father about my interaction with Tall, Dark, and Dangerous. He’d keep his mouth shut because he’d be too afraid I’d mention his offer, and we both knew my father well enough to know just how that would go over. Old friends don’t fuck other friends’ daughters. At least not without permission.
With a look that said I know you’re up to something but I don’t know what, Father shook his head. “Leave the man alone. They’re all a bunch of perverts. You know the city of Svartalfheim rests in the Subterranean Realms.”
“I’ve heard rumors about the entire city migrating back to Otherworld.”
“Wonderful. That’s just what we need. If they do, I’ll guarantee they’ll bring a host of demons swarming with them.”
“The demons can’t get through the portals,” I said. “They’re barred.”
“So they say, but I’m not too sure about that.” He grunted, then after a moment, cleared his throat. “Your sister Delilah needs to start dressing like a lady, at least for your aunt Olanda’s visit. Take her shopping. Get her out of trousers and tunics, please.” He gave me the once-over. “You’re fine. Menolly, too. But…”
“Delilah’s a tomboy and you know it,” I said, laughing. “Those dresses will last a couple of days and then you’ll never see them again. But yeah, I’ll add that to my to-do list.”
Father put down his sword and leaned back in his chair, crossing his right leg across his left. He was a handsome man, looking barely older than the three of us. Full-blooded Fae, he would age far slower than we until we drank the nectar of life. But that wouldn’t be for some time yet. We were forbidden to touch it for now.
It was easy to see why Mother had followed him home from Earthside. She’d fallen for him before he ever kissed her, before he told her he loved her, and they’d been devoted to each other, right until the end.