Page 45 of Poison Sun

By the time we return to the hostel, the sun has set, and the world around us feels charged with magic, possibility, and the promise of answers and adventures ahead.

But, most of all, with a clear purpose.

Because we’re going to find that quill. Blaze is going to use it to get that potion out of Amber’s body.

And then, we’ll free the city from the shadow souls, once and for all.

Amber

Back at the Fairmont, I take time to shower, change, and center myself in general.

My hands won't stop shaking, haunted by the memory of what happened with Lucas. The way he sank his fangs into my neck, pushed me down, and drank and drank and drank…

I brush my fingers against the spot on my neck where he pierced my skin.

He said he wanted to create a blood bond between us. But it didn’t feel like he was ready to stop anytime soon.

Would he have killed me if Damien didn’t get there in time?

My head’s spinning, and I don’t know how long I’m sitting on the bed thinking about all the possible scenarios with Lucas before my phone buzzes with a text.

It’s from Damien.

Dinner in my apartment?

My thumbs hover over the screen. I’ve never been to his apartment before, so the invitation feels like a big step. And while I wouldn’t mind time to myself right now, Damien did just save my life. Having dinner with him is the least I can do to show my gratitude.

Besides, I need to distract myself from the memories of what happened with Lucas.

Sure. Be there in a few minutes.

I press send before I can overthink it, and he replies with his floor number.

Lacking the energy to change out of my pajamas or dry my hair, I leave my room and enter the elevator. His floor is the highest one in the building, and when I press the button, it takes the elevator a few seconds longer than usual to start moving.

When I get to the top floor, the doors open straight into Damien’s sleek, sophisticated apartment.

He has the whole floor to himself.

I don’t know why I expected anything less.

He’s gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the park, his blond hair almost glowing in the moonlight, and he turns around when I enter. The jeans and soft-looking, gray sweater make him look far more approachable than the suits he usually wears, and his eyes fill with relief when he sees me, as if he was worried I wasn’t going to come.

“Amber,” he says. “I’m glad you made it.”

“It was a tough elevator ride.” I force a smile, surprised by the lightness in my tone. “But I survived.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says softly, and then the scent of something delicious floats in from the kitchen, making my stomach growl so loudly that I’m sure he heard it.

I haven’t eaten since before the incident with Lucas. I didn’t even realize I was hungry until now.

“Come. Let’s eat,” he says, and he leads me to the dining room, where two plates are already set. There are a bunch of serving dishes in the center of the table—so many that you’d think he was hosting a feast instead of a private dinner for just us.

He explains what each dish is, and as we sit and start, it’s impossible to ignore the tension lingering between us.

Finally, he sets down his utensils, his expression serious.

“How have you been feeling since the… incident with Lucas?” he asks.

---