Page 20 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
Her implied intention was not lost on Everinne. “Isn’t she a witch?”
She wasn’t entirely sure if a witch would be willing to hire a fae. It wasn’t as though they weren’t amiable with one another, but witches were often demanding and held everyoneto tremendously high expectations. Whereas Everinne had been known to disappoint on more than one occasion.
“Yes,” Zoryana drew the word out, then winked. “ButI’ma witch. I could put in a good word for you.”
“I suppose it’s not too bad of an idea. And I do love her wares.” Everinne had been inside Belladonna’s Atelier a number of times and was always utterly fascinated. Belladonna had a remarkable assortment of enchanted crowns, glass baubles that would reflect the owner’s favorite place, charmed jewelry, and other wondrous items she’d spelled with her magic. “Okay, yes. Let’s go see Belladonna, and if she says no, I can always see about getting a position at the Dancing Nymph.”
“Ever!” Zoryana clutched one hand to her heart as though she’d be thoroughly scandalized. Her jade gaze darted around their general vicinity. “Keep your voice down.”
Everinne smirked.
The Dancing Nymph was one of Starysa’s notorious parlors, for lack of a better word, where females and males alike took part in the art of provocative dancing. They performed on stages in elaborate costumes, slowly stripping away one piece of clothing at a time, until they were eventually fully nude. Everinne had never been to the Dancing Nymph, but she imagined there was quite a bit of money to be made if one was willing to dance naked for its patrons.
“I bet I’d be pretty damn good at it.” Everinne started to move and sway her hips, and Zoryana laughed, joining her in dancing to the whistling wind and call of the sea.
Everinne shimmied once, then spun, bumping soundly into something solid. At first, she thought she’d knocked into one of the vendor’s stalls, but then a firm hand gripped her shoulder.
“Nice moves.”
That voice.
Dark, icy, and dangerous.
She caught the flash of silver skull rings before turning to come face to face with Jarek Zima, the demon summoner.
“Imagine seeing you here,” Jarek mused, biting into the flesh of a golden peach. Its shimmery juices clung to the corner of his mouth, and he swiped his thumb along his bottom lip, licking it clean.
From beside her, Zoryana made an indiscernible noise.
Everinne blinked, forcing herself to look anywhere but at his mouth. “Skulls, I mean…Jarek. What are you…” She glanced up and down the market’s street. “What are you doing here?”
He gave the peach a little squeeze, then took another slow, if not slightly intentional, bite. Licking his lips, he grinned. “Shopping.”
Zoryana cleared her throat, shuffling closer.
“Oh, apologies, Zory.” Everinne turned toward Zoryana, gesturing to her friend who was practically salivating at the sight of the man eating his piece of fruit. “Jarek, this is my best friend, Zoryana Daleth.”
“It’s a pleasure,” he murmured, leaning casually against one of the stalls. He kicked one leg out, crossing it over the other. His sleek black pants were stitched around the pockets with silver thread, and he’d tucked in his smoke gray shirt. Despite the cooler temperatures, he wore no coat and his rolled sleeves revealed toned forearms. “Where are you ladies off to this fine afternoon?”
Jarek tossed the rest of his peach into a bin behind the stall, ignoring the furious scowl from the vendor on the other side.
Everinne pointed toward the end of the market square, where the road split off in different directions near the harbor. “We were about to head over to Belladonna’s Atelier.”
He tilted his head, a loose strand of dark brown hair falling across his face. “That’s the shop with all the magical baubles and quirky gifts, right?”
“That’s the one.” Though she wouldn’t call Belladonna’s quirky—extraordinary maybe, but not quirky. “It’s a favorite of mine.”
Jarek nodded, his molten gaze flicking to Zoryana then fixating on Everinne. “Anything in particular you’re looking to buy? I hear she designs these crystal spheres that look like you’re holding the world in the palm of your hands.”
Everinne glanced at Zoryana, and a slight frown marred her forehead. Where before she was damn near salivating at the sight of him, now she was studying his manner, noting the skull rings on his fingers, and the constant cold permeating the air around them. Her brows pinched and the jade of her eyes darkened. She shared a look with Everinne, one she recognized well.
Warning.
“Actually,” Everinne twisted the ends of her hair together, tossing it over one shoulder. “I was going to inquire about a job.”
A stab of shame pierced her, flushing her cheeks.
Jarek didn’t seem to notice or care. Instead, he shoved off the stall and stepped forward, towering over her. “Are you looking?”
