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Chapter 3
Mrak was quiet for most of the day. Which wasn’t abnormal for him, but after this morning, it certainly wasn’tnormal, either. Everything about that encounter had set me on edge, and for the first time since making my pact with Mrak, I had begun to question the sanity of it—and his intentions. But… if he really was trying to protect me, as he had in Lazarus’s community, then I had to believe that the sword Leif had wanted me to make really would be dangerous to forge. The fact that Leif had wanted it forged in nightsteel only made me more wary.
I still had the paper Mrak hadn’t let Leif take back. I wanted to study it closer, to memorize the runes and try to look into them. Mostly to learn, but also to see exactly how dangerous they really were. I was no stranger to runes as many witches, like Willa, commissioned them into their athames and other blades. But these were definitely older and more foreign than any I had worked with or seen previously.
By the time I’d finished Willa’s dagger and gotten ready to head to the bar, the silence from Mrak had finally gotten to me.
“Are you still here?” I asked—mostly to the air around me, as I couldn’t ever see Mrak despite him being able to interact with me.
“Always,”came his quick response. Suddenly, it felt as though hands were holding mine, warm and strong despite not really being there.“I’m bound to you, Aisling. Where you go, I go, and nowhere else. Where is better than by your side?”
I didn’t think I was all that special. But I knew the pact played the most important and possibly only role in this limitation in his mobility. “Well, if you get bored, I give permission for you to roam or something. Is that how it works?”
“Our pact would have to be broken.”
I was pretty sure I’d used the words “owe you for life” when begging for him to help me get out of Lazarus’s feeding community. “Well, I guess when I kick the bucket, you can roam then.”
“Aisling…”He sounded disappointed.
“Don’t worry,” I said, my voice thick with sarcasm. “I don’t plan on letting that happen for a long time.”
You know, as long as it was under my control.
I finished up the last touches on the dagger for Willa and even gift-wrapped it before heading out of Dark Iron to wait for Willa out front. She’d be here any minute now. I was excited to hang out with her, but fear of crowds had made any outings impossible in the past. I supposed I’d have to get over it eventually.
Despite it being the height of summer, I still wore a leather jacket. At least the night air was cooler than the daytime. I hated looking at my scars as much as I couldn’t stand others staring. Even Willa, who had identical scars running up both of her arms, too.
Willa pulled up in her Toyota Corolla not a few minutes later. I waved as she pulled over and she rolled down the window.
“Hey!” she called. “The place is right around the corner.”
“Great,” I said, flashing her a smile as I climbed inside her car with my messenger bag on my lap. “Excited?”
Willa nodded. She had dark hair and innocent blue eyes above a dotting of freckles on her cheeks. “Yes. I’ve graduated to coven meetings, but not yet a bar. I’m happy to brave that one with you.”
I gave her another smile—tighter this time. I knew from before Lazarus that vampires preyed on humans at bars. But out here, actually being able to fight back and use magic without reprimand, should keep us plenty safe should the need arise. “Yeah.”
“Let’s go.” Willa pulled off the curb and we left Dark Iron behind us.
Within twenty minutes, we’d parked outside Bitter Star—possibly the smallest bar in all of New York City’s downtown area—and strode up to the door. Both of us paused, Willa for longer, but the hesitation was there for both of us for what we saw inside.
Bitter Star was packed full tonight.
I watched everyone from outside the large, open window with neon signs and tried to force myself inside as Willa pushed open the door—not without a visibly deep breath beforehand. There had to have been at least fifty people inside the bar, if not more. Humans. Witches. Werewolves and vampires were always a risk. Not all of them were out to kill or prey on humans, but enough vampires were dangerous to give me pause. It was at least enough to trigger my anxiety, anyway.
The weight of Willa’s dagger in my messenger bag seemed to grow heavier. I’d promised her I’d have this dagger to her tonight. When we’d initially talked about the commission, she’d said she was worried someone from our feeder community days was following her, and she had wanted the protection. Not all of us had magicanda dark entity pact to keep us safe.
My chest tightened along with my grip on the strap of my messenger bag.You have to go in. Just for a half hour. Willa’s already inside—she already drove you both there. It’s safe. It is safe, Aisling.
Gods. How selfish was I? Afraid to even go inside this bar while Willa was already there, waiting for me to join her for a drink and then deliver her a measure for her own safety?
Mrak’s ethereal embrace surrounded me in that moment. It started as the sensation of arms wrapping protectively around me. Then the feeling of his lips on my cheek.“I’ll protect you, Aisling. You’re safe with me.”
At that moment, Willa turned back and watched me through the open door. An understanding look crossed her features.
I nodded in small motions. “I know,” I whispered back as people crossed the street behind me. Normal people. Not dangerous vampires. Not werewolves or fae or anything else to worry about. Justpeople.
Butpeoplehad sold me into the vampire feeding community. People had left me there for ten years, a walking blood bag to snack on whenever Lazarus and his lieutenants had wanted.
