“Tonight, Garin is riding high on his instincts, Your Majesty. Everything the devil himself created us to do—to seduce, drain, and hunt—has floodedhis senses. But anyone he drinks from or tries to seduce will only make him want youmore.”
At his words, she turned slowly back to him.
“You now understand our concern. You’re the only one who can reason with him. Myrddin and I would help, but anyone entering the room with you will be seen as his competition. He would attack me without thought. Us going in there as a group, with or without you…” He trailed off, exhaling. “That’s how your kingdom would witness its second raid.”
She didn’t need to hear any more. Lilac said her thanks and stepped away from him, ambling away toward the crowd.
“One more thing,” Casmir called out. She didn’t bother looking back. “Please give him my condolences. For losing our bet.”
14
Shrugging off offers from men in both traveler’s tunics and fine clothing, Lilac shoved her way to the bar, her hair sticking to her forehead and the pins in her half-up braids falling out. She’d tried to squeeze her fingers under the mask again, until the tips of her fingers were throbbing. There was no use, but she wasn’t concentrating on that. She’d liked to think the pain helped distract her from everything else she felt.
Her body burned, as if soaking in the body heat from each person she passed.
She exhaled in relief when she emerged from the crowd, clinging to the counter and relishing the cool against her skin as the warlock’s and Casmir’s warnings resounded in her mind.
She understood their hesitation completely; not even she wanted to face a potentially aggressive Garin. But what reasoning would she bring that another vampire and powerful warlock could not?
If Bastion and Myrddin had left the inn on horseback, and Myrddin teleported to her on the journey, then Bastion should be here by now. She could use the help since Myrddin and Casmir had proved useless; he seemed brave and if nothing else, restless enough.
And yet, no matter who stood beside her, she’d still have to face him.
A shirtless man with a rippling back and waist-long black hair workedbehind this bar, which was wide and spanned the length of the back of the room. He turned, the delicious cut of his waist visible just above his trousers. He acknowledged her with a finger in the air and quickly finished up with the patrons before him.
“One Fire Ale, please,” she said, forcing an impatient smile when he finally approached her. She didn’t recognize the frost in her voice, but there was a building urgency at her core making her limbs buzz.
The man laughed, but his face quickly fell when her forced smile dropped into a cold pout. “We’re out of Fire Ale,” he said curtly.
Something told her he was lying. “I just saw someone sipping on some.”
“And? You know the rules.”
“I’m new,” she managed, finding it shockingly easy to lie and think on her feet while actively imagining running her tongue along the beautiful stranger’s bare waistline. She blinked, the thought shocking her. “Remind me.”
“Courtesans are to reserve themselves for the patrons of higher class.”
“That doesn’t sound very good for business.”
He scowled, looking this way and that. “Leave.”
“Aren’t we to serve them as long as they’re able to pay?”
“Courtesans are banned from feedings,” he whispered, leaning in. “If you’re interested in defiling yourself, you’ll do it after your shift.” With his nose in the air, he turned away.
“I’m not going to feed him from the vein?—”
“Shut your mouth, girl.”
She bit back a scathing remark. “He just mentioned wanting a drink from the bar, and a Fire Ale is what he ordered. That is all.”
“And that’s swell. But you’re not one of my barmaids. Not dressed like that.” His gaze dipped to her corset, and back up to her mask. “I’d get one of them to do it,ifwe had any Fire Ale left.”
Lilac managed a cool shrug. “I just thought I’d keep my client happy.”
The man ignored her, picking up a towel.
She thought of the unmasked women guiding the blonde upstairs, and the liquid they’d spilled onto her from the balcony. The distant ache and need to feel pressure against her clit—inside her—growing more prominent. “Since you’re so concerned about the rules,” Lilac said, watching himrun the cloth along the inside of a glass. “It would be a shame if anyone discovered Dragondew Mead in the wrong hands.”
