Lucas looked from her to me. “I still have to track down my acquaintance,” he said slowly. “What she owes me should earn us lodging, but crystals are expensive here. She might be able to help us acquire some, but I will probably need more cash.”
No freaking way I would let him leave again, not with me in this state. Which he had undoubtedly noticed, as Lucas wasn’t the type to miss much. “You have to stay,” I said. “I need to go out for a bit.”
Riley’s brows dropped as she stared at me, and Lucas glowered. “You can’t go running around out there. It’s dangerous as hell.”
“So am I,” I stated.
Lucas assessed that, and came up with, “At least eat first. And I got you a cloak.” He tilted his head. “Which reminds me. When you leave, turn right. The cloaks came from two buildings down to the left.”
He placed them on the bed and picked up the larger one to hand to me. As I took it, my gaze traced the pleasing lines of his face, the lean body with its whipcord strength. He was a very good-looking young man, and my Satyr flashed me an image of him and Riley and I entwined… Then it altered, the male in the equation growing in height and breadth.
And dusted with scales.
A shudder passed through me as my body ramped up to aching, rock-hard status, and my scent spiked again.
Lucas’s nostrils flared, and his pupils dilated.
I needed to get out of here. Like, now.
“I’ll be back,” I ground out, and fled.
* * *
Despite having the cloak hood pulled up, I turned heads everywhere I walked.
My scent wafted off my skin, strong enough to set my own teeth on edge. It was attracting far too much attention, although not of the deadly kind. I needed to deal with this, and fast.
But I wouldn’t find a Liberi here. The next best solution was numbers. So I sent my senses on a quest. Looking not for one, but for at least two. And preferably more.
I sensed a large conglomeration of life essences, and swung that way. Moments later, I strode into the main Sarti marketplace.
Late morning, and it was bustling with customers. All ages, species, sexes. The perfect hunting ground for a ravenous Satyr.
Still, this was far from the Richin market. No cheerful families out for the day’s shopping. If Sarti possessed coddled children, they certainly did not spend their time here.
Booths had their most valuable merchandise behind thick glass doors. The average marketgoer was hooded and hyperaware of everything that went on around them. And, I was sure, well-armed.
I navigated the booths like the predator I was. The cloak hid my rigid, aching condition, but my scent was a dead giveaway for anyone familiar with my mother’s kind.
Finally, I found what I was looking for. Sensed them lurking in the shadows near a jewelsmith’s stall—two young females and a male. Watching the clientèle. Judging, no doubt, the weight of their change purses as they pulled them out to pay for a glittering bauble.
I drifted along the buildings that framed the market, toward where they hid. Walked right by them, letting my scent permeate the alley. Then I stopped and swung toward them.
Three sets of eyes stared back at me from the depths of their hoods.
I reached out with my power. “Let me see you,” I ordered.
They pulled down their hoods. Wutins, I thought. Very human looking, but with ears tipped in tiny tendrils, and arched brows that joined between their eyes. They were adults, but young.
The women's eyes were already glazed. The male’s wary hostility faded as my power enveloped him.
A woman stepped forward, her three-fingered hand reaching out. I took it, letting my scent loose. She inhaled, and her pupils dilated so wide you couldn’t see the pale pink irises.
“Never had me a Satyr,” she purred.
For just an instant, her features blurred, and her eyes were replaced by those that glinted green. My stomach twisted as I asked, “Is there somewhere more private we can go?”
“Come with us,” said the other female. “We have the perfect place.”
