Page 28 of The Enemy to the Living
I listen as her footsteps recede and as a door further down opens, then closes again. I think it’s to her flat, but I can’t be sure. Probably not. Probably they’re all up in Kieran’s flat—him and Sam and Drew and Ophelia, probably Adam and Lucien and Dante too—and she’s reporting back, telling them I wouldn’t let her in.
I spin on my heel and go back into the bedroom. I need—I need to get this itch out from under my skin. I need things to be too loud. Too dark.Too much.I can’t handle the silence and I can’t handle people who know me, but I can go somewhere else. Somewhere there’s neither.
Beyond the Veil is still open, even though it’s an hour after midnight. I climbed out of my bedroom window in the end, which may well make things worse when the rest of the pack get to me, but I know they were just waiting for me to walk past and would have pounced on me.
Sparrow’s eyes widen when they see me enter. The place is still full of fae, some of whom regard me with mild interest, but I keep my head low and head for a stool at the bar.
The music isn’t quite as loud as I’d like, and the feeling of being watched has me on edge, but at least here no one will try to pry.
“A drink?” Sparrow asks, appearing before me. Their dark eyes linger on the bruise on my cheek. I scowl, and they look away.
“Beer.”
“You—”
“Please.”
Sparrow presses their lips together, then nods. One beer still won’t get me drunk. Even without a wolf, that would be the case. I smile when they put the cold glass in front of me—or turn up the corners of my lips, at least—and they whisk themselves away again, serving a fae with shimmering wings further down the bar.
I nurse my beer for an hour or so, and I don’t know if Sparrow’s projecting some kind of defensive aura or if I just lookthatunapproachable, but no one bothers me the entire time. Good. After a while, I manage to tune out all of my thoughts, letting the music wash over me, eyes either on fae drifting on or off the small dance floor or on my beer.
The fragile peace I’ve found shatters when Maurice walks into the bar.
Maybe Maurice won’t know me on sight or won’t be expecting me to be here, but I can’t risk it. He’s got some magic, so he spends time with Sam—he’s brought by the few fae the pack’s been helping out—and he knows Asher…
What if Asher went back tonight and told them all what I’ve been doing? I know he only followed me to find the place again. He doesn’t have to keep my secret. It would make more sense if hedidn’t.
I keep my eyes down as Maurice approaches the bar and speaks with Sparrow. He doesn’t look in my direction. A troll stands by a back door, one that Spectra, the fae who runs this bar, comes through a few moments later. She smiles at Maurice, and he walks over to her, both of them disappearing through the door.
My breaths are fast and shallow. I press my hands against the top of the bar for something to hang onto.
Sparrow is before me in the blink of an eye. They put their hands on the bar top too, close enough that the tips of our fingers almost touch. “Do you hear me?”
“Yes.” I focus on the sound of their voice. “I-I just—”
“Listen. To your left. What do you hear?”
Two fae. Talking. One has sparkling wine. I hear the bubbles.
“Talking. Wine.”
“Good. Look past me. What do you see?”
The fae with the wings from earlier. She’s spinning in the centre of the dance floor, and some of the other fae have stepped back to watch. She moves like ice skaters I’ve seen on TV.
“Fae. Dancing.”
“Great.” Sparrow moves one hand slowly and places it over mine. The touch is a shock. Their hand is warm, and for a second, I’m certain I feel the tingle of magic, though that is not something I can usually do. “Feel that?”
“Magic?”
“Just a prickle,” Sparrow says. They smile. “And your other hand?”
“The bar.”
“It’s oak, you know. Spectra harvested it herself. Asked the tree and everything.”
I blink. I feel dizzy still and faintly sick, but Sparrow’s words have done the trick. “Asked…?”
