Page 25 of Forbidden

“Do I get a choice?” Ira asked lightly as Wolf carried him to the breakfast bar.

“About what food I make you, yes. About whether or not you eat, no.” He narrowed his eyes, daring Ira to argue.

To his relief, Ira gave him an exasperated smile. “Fine. Then yes, I like turkey.”

It was probablya matter of time until someone from the guild spotted them, but Wolf wanted to delay it as long as possible. He took Ira into In Extremis through the butcher’s shop tunnel, a secret passageway beneath the city block where In Extremis was located. The halflings had put it in specifically to escape notice from their enemies. Ira clung to him as they walked through the unsettling butcher’s shop, with its dirty plastic partitions and ominous, dangling chains. They’d left it that way on purpose to deter curious trespassers.

“Did you already know this place was here?” Wolf asked curiously.

“Here exactly, no, but I knew there was a passageway somewhere,” Ira explained as Wolf guided him down the narrow staircase and into the darkness below.

Within moments, they were entering the club. If Ira was shocked by the state of In Extremis when they arrived, he masked it well. His eyes trailed around, taking everything in as Wolf led him through the red-lit VIP hall and out into the main club. The party was already going strong. Music pulsed from hidden speakers. Smoke machines made everything look hazy and soft, catching the multicolored lights that strobed from the ceiling. A crowd had already gathered on the dance floor, by the bar, and around the room. There were bodies in every alcove, seeking the pleasures of the flesh. Some danced, some fucked, some traded blood.

Ira’s eyes were wide, but there was no uncertainty or unease in his expression. Overwhelmed but not regretful. Wolf would take it.

He spotted Talon and Alex in their usual booth as he led Ira through the throng, curled close together with their heads almost touching. Xyra was behind the bar, passing out beer bottles and refilling glasses. She lifted her fingers in greeting and went back to taking orders.

Wolf pushed Ira onto a stool and said, “Wait here, I’ll get you something.” He rounded the bar.

“Wait, Wolf, no! I-I don’t want alcohol.”

Wolf shot him an arch look. He picked out a lowball glass, dropped two cubes of ice into it, and set it in front of Ira.

“Wolf,” he protested as Wolf turned away to fetch thedrink. When he turned back around with a chilled soda can, Ira relaxed, smiling. “Asshole.”

Wolf cracked the can open and filled the glass. “Calories.”

“What is your obsession with feeding me?” His gaze was deep and warm, and Wolf rounded the bar once more, heedless of the stares. He didn’t normally leave the bar during work hours, and certainly not to interact with a customer. But Ira wasn’t a customer, not really. He was so much more.

He nosed Ira’s ear, his arms looping around Ira’s waist. “I like taking care of you. Is that okay?”

Ira turned sideways and patted his cheek. “Yes, it’s—” He broke off, his gaze falling away and going distant, like he was seeing something no one else could.

Wolf didn’t move. At least if he was holding on, Ira couldn’t fall off the stool and hurt himself again.

“Is this what it looks like when he has a vision?” Talon asked, and Wolf turned to see him and Alex standing beside them.

“Sometimes, I guess. He fell to the floor this morning and hit his head.” He smoothed his hand down the back of Ira’s head. He’d found a lump there after it happened, but his blood had healed it.

Alex nodded. “I’ve heard stories. There’s a reason they usually sit in quiet rooms filled with soft places to rest. I also heard that they fast from a very young age.”

“Fast,” Talon repeated. “Like, stop eating for an extended period?”

“Yeah,” Alex replied. “When I was about fifteen, I saw a prophet-in-training faint in the hallway because he’d gone too long without eating. Apparently there’s a fineline between making yourself have a vision and starving yourself.”

Wolf growled, and Talon shot him a knowing look.

“The guild is okay with prophets doing that to themselves?” Wolf asked.

Alex shrugged. “As long as the prophets keep giving them what they want, I guess they don’t see a problem with it. The ends justify the means.”

Selfish, Wolf thought.

And Ira hadn’t fasted today. In fact, Wolf had layered his sandwich with so much turkey, lettuce, and tomato that Ira had complained about having trouble getting his mouth around it. But he’d eaten the whole thing. He definitely wasn’t hungry. It made him wonder if the guild hadn’t been entirely truthful to their prophets about how their visions worked. But what would be the point? To keep them weak and subservient?

He had a feeling that wasn’t far off the mark.

One moment Ira was staring at nothing, and the next, he blinked, coming back to himself. Wolf wondered why this one was different than the one from this morning. Did some of them just affect him more, or was it because he’d just eaten?

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