Page 64 of A Taste of Bliss
The garden is partially illuminated with patio lighting, washing it in a warm romantic glow. I’m surprised more peoplearen’t out here, stealing quick kisses with their partners. It seems ironic I’m using such a beautiful space to hide from my ex. Maybe I should have headed straight back to the townhome.
That inner part of me that is all primal succubus and zero percent concerned with consequences is pouting that I didn’t drag Grim out here with me. We could have made use of some of the shadows here. I mentally shush her.
Leaves rustle, interrupting me from scolding myself yet again. I look to my right, trying to pinpoint where the noise came from. I peer closer, but I can’t make out anything. “Hello?” I ask.
It’s probably just a bird or something. But I wonder if I did indeed interrupt a couple making use of the space. I would be too embarrassed to come out if I were them. I should leave, go back to the house and get a good night’s sleep. Or stay up over-analyzing if coming here was a mistake. If making a deal witha wraithwas a mistake.Obviously,my inner critic sneers.
I’m about to get up and look for a direct way out of this garden to the street when again leaves rustle. But this time, instead of looking and finding nothing, I see a figure emerge from the shadowy corner of the garden to my left.
Not eerily, or creepily. He just walks out into the glow of the lights, and he doesn’t slow when he sees me. I can’t help but freeze and take in his appearance.
It’s Wrath.
His mask is beautiful and even more intricate in person.
But it still slightly creeps me out.
I can’t tell where he’s looking. Like all of the Voracious Maw masks, it has no eye holes, giving the illusion he can’t see out of it.
He seems like he’s about to walk right past me, but at the last second he pauses, almost parallel with me, looking over at me. The tilt to his head seems questioning.
“The party sucks, just so you know.” I don’t know why I say it. He’s wearing plain clothes now, a black hoodie and black jeans, instead of his earlier costume. He must have left the party to change.
I glance behind him in the direction that he came, and even though it’s not illuminated well, I can now make out a little gate that lets out to the side of the building. I wonder why he’s coming in this way. Maybe to avoid large crowds? I don’t blame him.
“I met your bassist,” I say, again not sure why I’m word-vomiting all over the place. I don’t mention that Eerie—Evan—wasn’t wearing his mask. A shiver runs up my arms as I wait for him to say something, anything. I rub my hands over my bare arms. It’s already much colder now than five minutes ago and I think again how I should stop listening to Amelia when it comes to my cleavage.
Or maybe I can use it to my advantage. Isn’t this exactly the opportunity I need to make good on my bargain with the wraith?
I let out the last little remnants of my power. I’m definitely going to need to feed soon, in the next day or so. All the power I got from feeding off Taser is already gone.
Wrath still doesn’t say anything. But I watch as he slowly unzips his hoodie, taking it off and wordlessly offering it to me.
He has on a long-sleeved shirt, but his hands are still covered in paint.
I just look at him, and he reaches the hoodie closer to me, urging me to take it. I wrap my hands around it and he lets go. When I don’t immediately put it on, he tilts his head again. Is this all my power is able to coax him to do?
He takes the hoodie back. I think he’s just going to put it back on, but instead he holds it out for me to step into, like maybe he thinks I didn’t understand him.
“Why don’t you talk?” I ask, looking between him and the offered hoodie.
No answer.
I sigh again, standing up. “Fine.” I slip my arms into the sleeves and allow him to zip me into his hoodie. It smells divine, and thankfully my brain doesn’t find a need to comment out loud about that. I also can’t place his scent, which isn’t crazy. I’m not a vampire or a wolf shifter, so my sense of smell isn’t always the best when it comes to fae species.
I think he’s about to leave me and go inside, but instead he sits on the fountain’s edge. I sit back down next to him.
And your magic is out,my inner voice reminds me. He’s literally right here and I can’t even use my magic to help me get the tears for the wraith.
I try to think of something to say, fingering the zipper pull of his hoodie while I take a moment to wonder what he looks like underneath that mask, and who he could possibly be.
There are rumors, of course.
Voracious Maw fans have some wild theories about the band members’ identities, but the theories all center on other well-known musicians. That never made sense to me, why someone already well known would start a band and grow it from nothing anonymously.
Sure, it could be a gimmick, as Jordan would always say, but I never bought that theory either.
I’m convinced they’re just really talented unknown musicians who, for one reason or another, don’t want the attention on them.
