She leads me back behind the sales counter, bringing up another chair and handing me the magazine. “Let me guess, you got the one with Grim on the cover?” The magazine has done a special on the Phantoms, a pretty legendary metal band that we’ve been listening to for years now. They’ve done an issue for each of the members. Serious fans of the band will have collected all the issues.
I grin, shrugging nonchalantly. “He’s just so hot. I can’t help it. And the Stormy ones were all sold out.”
“She’s definitely the favorite,” Reese responds, putting her feet back up on the counter and resting back in her chair. “So what’s up? Are you here visiting me or Liz?” She arches her brow at me. “Or are you here to see Amelia?”
“I came by to see Liz. Amelia’s here?” I ask, my brows raising as well.
“Yeah, she’s giving blood. We’re running low on our Essence of Succubus supply,” Reese informs me. Essence of Succubus is a very rare, very expensive potion that my aunt sells. It requires blood from a succubus—obviously. And fae who drink it experience a very powerful, concentrated high after orgasm. It also helps males who can’t rise to the occasion. My sister and I get forty percent each of the proceeds, leaving twenty percent for Liz, who mixes it and sells it.
But if Amelia is here giving blood, that means I should be too. And I realize my aunt didn’t tell me she needed more blood because she probably suspected that my power is low. I try not to think too much on that, but it feels like yet another reminder of all my failures.
A sparkle of light catches my eye near the front desk, thankfully distracting me from my spiral. On a jewelry display hangs a thin gold chain necklace with a dainty pink crystal. “Is that bond quartz?” I ask.
“Hmm, I think so.” Reese picks it up off the display and hands it to me. “Probably a good idea to get some with your bond ceremony so close.” She grins at me, a hopeful look in her eyes.
“I don’t think it actually works.” I set the pendant back on the counter.
“They do! Do you remember Becky from freshman year? I heard that after her bond ceremony she bought a ring with bond quartz on it and she found her mate the very next day.”
“I hadn’t heard that,” I respond, the disbelief in my tone clear.
“She’s not the only one who’s used it,” Dericia continues. “You really should buy it.”
I glance at the price. “It’s sixty-five dollars.” Too much, in my opinion, for something that probably doesn’t work. And even if it does, I’m pretty sure I’m a lost cause.
“It’s on me,” my aunt calls from the hallway leading back to the spa rooms. “Hey, Bliss,” Liz says, giving me a one-arm hug, a folder of papers tucked under her other arm. Her dark brown hair is pulled into an elegant bun at her nape, a few pieces left out to frame her light, oval-shaped face. Her eyes are the same piercing blue as Amelia’s and my mother’s. But unlike my mother, my sister, and I, Liz is a kitsune, a fox shifter. “Glad you could stop by.”
“Who was on the phone earlier?” Reese asks. I glance over, wondering if someone had called just before I arrived.
“The fae council calling,again,” Liz responds.
I arch my brows at my aunt. “Still trying to get you to go back to work for them, huh?”
Liz sighs. “I’ll call them back later. There’s this case my old boss is working that he wants my help on. Plus all that nonsense with the warlocks.” That “nonsense with the warlocks” has been all over the fae news channels recently. It’s all any of them are talking about. “What brings you by, Bliss?”
“Just making sure we’re still on for dinner after my ceremony,” I say, running my fingers over the bond quartz pendent and clutching it to my chest. I hold onto the necklace as tightly as I’m holding on to the hope of finding my mate.
And trying to push down the fears that he won’t like me.
“Of course,” Liz responds. “Reese, you’re coming to dinner too, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it!” Dericia flashes her smile at me.
“Good.” I smile back. I fish around for another topic to take attention away from my looming ceremony. “Should we be worried about these warlock attacks?”
Liz puts on a smile, but years of experience tell me it’s a little bit forced. “No. It’s been a very isolated couple of attacks. Some of the council are making it out to be a bigger threat, but just in case maybe stay clear of any.”
“What’s the point of attacking?” Reese asks, flipping back through her magazine. “What’s their motive?”
Liz shrugs. “The council hasn’t figured that out yet. But there have been three attacks so far, in different fae districts, and the council isn’t even positive they’re related. They’ve been violent and unprovoked, as far as they can tell.”
The first attack was in Memphis. A warlock attacked a couple in a restaurant, and then ran off, hurting a few more people as he evaded the fae constabulary. Alone it might not have gathered much media attention. Made fae were volatile, their immortality the cause of callousness and apathy. Newer Made fae had little control over their powers, and while control came with age, their humanity diminished in kind.
But in recent weeks, two more attacks occurred and the media started labeling the warlocks as terrorists.
“Amelia knows you’re here, by the way,” Liz says, looking at me meaningfully, interrupting my thoughts. “You should go in and say hi.”
“You too?” I ask, looking between her and my best friend. I let out a sigh. “Fine.” I’m not at all surprised Amelia sensed me as soon as I walked in. She’s one of the most powerful fae I’ve ever met. We’re opposites in that way. She was born to be a succubus, whereas I’m pretty sure the stars made a mistake when I was born.
