Natalya nursed her drink, barely tasting it. Like with everything these past few months, she was too distracted to enjoy it, but enjoyment wasn’t its purpose. Even if she didn’t need to eat or drink, alcohol was still a numbing agent. Though it burned off quickly.
“Lady Natalya.” A rumbling voice filled with the potential for destruction, like distant thunder, sounded near her.
“What, Drago?” she said, turning to the greater Wrath fiend. As usual, the huge man wore only slacks and long fingerless gloves that covered his lower arms. Covered in symmetrical tattoos, olive-skinned, and with rust-colored hair, he made for adangerous-looking individual. In this visage, only his slitted, red eyes gave away his fiendish nature.
“There are wolves by the door,” he said. Natalya sighed.
“Strangers?”
“They said they know the King and are here by invitation.”
“I’m not in the habit of greeting guests that aren’t mine. They seem dangerous?”
Drago looked down at her, stone-faced and deadly. “Not to me.”
Natalya rubbed her eyes.
“Tell them to come back another night. Or for the Iron’s Eve if they plan to pledge.” She turned from Drago, speaking into her glass. “As if I care.”
Under normal circumstances, she would have enjoyed figuring out the wants and desires of strange lycanthropes in their Court, but Natalya wasn’t operating under normal circumstances.
She was ruling the Court solo, and even without the stress of that, she hadn’t been at her best lately. She masked her unease with a mean-spirited aloofness that meant most steered clear of her. Aleksander was one of the only people who’d dare question her unusual behavior, and he was too busy with border ferals to play detective.
It wouldn’t be a satisfying answer if he did prod. She was distracted by lingering thoughts. Thoughts of a beautiful girl with red hair and mossy green eyes.
“You’re scowling,” Flea said. He was her designated bodyguard for the evening, not that she needed one. “It’s scaring off the customers.”
“Fuck the customers.”
Flea whistled. “That’s new. Aleksander is usually the scary one. You coming for his gig?”
“Are you implying I’m planning treason, Flea?” Natalya said, purposefully taking offense. It would have silenced any sane man. Flea wasn’t exactly sane.
“Something on your mind?” He pointed to her hand, which had drifted to her lips. She quickly lowered it, and Flea grinned. “Orsomeone?”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Or a baby to steal?”
“This is more interesting than baby-stealing. You should be flattered. Only few things are,” Flea said with a grin. “You’ve been acting off ever since we came back from Varro’s. Is this about what happened with that chick in the car?”
Flea had no nuance, no filter, and he was more than a little mad, but he saw things more clearly than most. Natalya didn’t care for it in this instance.
Everyone had been curious about what exactly had happened between her and Evie. Even Aleksander had pried, and even he hadn’t been told all the details. She wasn’t one for sharing what made her tick, especially when she didn’t know why it did.
It was one thing to feel responsible for Evie. That would be understandable. Natalya had pulled her into this mess after all. What was neither understandable nor acceptable was the intense concern Natalya suffered, something that wasn’t helped by the echoes of emotion she felt from the strange woman. The last time she’d felt something like it, she was bound by magic.
“I dealt with Varro,” she said, hoping her chilly tone would lay the topic to rest. “We released the vampires we had in custody, and he let bygones be bygones about the slave. I guess he didn’t want to get into detail about why I had a bullet hole in my chest, and Cassius walked with a limp for a week.”
“Yeah, sure, but the chick…” Flea ignored the warning glare she shot him. “Blake says you’ve been worried about her.”
What Natalya felt was more than just worry. Somehow, she’d left a mark on Evie as permanent as those from vampire fangs.
Ever since the kiss in her office, Natalya had been able to sense Evie’s emotions, even at a distance. She’d experienced it before when a witch or warlock had managed to find her true name and summon her into service. The effect was intended to connect Natalya to them, so she could accurately predict their needs.
What wasn’t an intended effect was the longing Natalya felt. The intense concern. The pull to make sure Evie was safe.
She knew Evie got scared whenever night fell. That Evie often woke from nightmares. A few times, when Evie’s fear was particularly serious, Natalya had rushed to her apartment to make sure she was safe, though she always stayed out of sight.
She could feel Evie always, though it was faint most of the time, and she had to concentrate to notice it. A few hours earlier, Evie had been calm and content when Blake and Lily visited her. Now she was nervous. Feeling her was a connection Natalya couldn’t explain. As far as she knew, it shouldn’t even exist.
