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“Aisling,”Mrak murmured, a hint of earnestness in his voice.“I will keep you safe from harm. That is my promise to you.”
“I know,” I repeated.
I knew, but the fear of being captured and drawn back into whatever community might still exist—people Ihadn’tburned or maybe any who had escaped—still anchored me to the spot. Day to day, these fears didn’t consume me anymore after a year. Especially not while in a shop surrounded by weapons of my own making and Mrak’s magic. But here, in the city, surrounded by supernaturals, fear gripped me and wouldn’t let me go.
Mrak’s presence shifted until it felt as though he were holding my face in his hands. I was sure me relaxing into the hold of someone who wasn’t actually there appeared weird to any onlookers, especially Willa who I’d never told about Mrak, but Mrak’s lips on mine settled my mind. It gave me a focus to concentrate on, my breath a chance to slow. At least until my pulse quickened for an entirely different reason.
It was unfathomable to me how in the space of one year, I’d gone from summoning Mrak out of desperation and—quite frankly—on accident, to relying on him for safety and calm. Equally unfathomable was how I could have grown attracted to an entity who never took fully physical form. Who watched and helped and kissed me always from some sort of distance, even though I could feel him. It wasn’t the same as having a person physically in front of you, touching you, holding you.
Mrak was something else entirely. An entity, a formless monster, who somehow, some way, was able to touch my body without touching it. To elicit sensations and feelings from me that no one ever had before.
When the feel of Mrak’s lips retreated, he said,“Go inside. Have a drink with your friend. I’ll be watching for any danger. You trust me, don’t you?”
I nodded automatically, but only as I said, “Yes,” did my thoughts draw back to earlier today. With Leif and that rune-marked sword and the way Mrak had disliked the look of it so much, he’d taken over my body to get Leif out of Dark Iron.
Mrak had mentioned that Leif was likely demon-hunting. Mrak must have been a demon after all. Why else would he know of those runes?
“Then trust me,”Mrak whispered near my ear.
“Okay.” I smiled at Willa and crossed the threshold.
Air conditioning blasted me in the face as soon as I entered Bitter Star. I closed my eyes as it hit, a little disoriented for a moment, and took a few more steps. Only then could I scan the room, looking for Willa and finding her exactly where she had been waiting. The place was packed, the bar itself jammed full of patrons trying equally hard to flag down a busy bartender. The smell of stale beer filled the air. The music was loud—much louder in here than it’d been outside—and it sent my mind whirring, unable to focus.
A hand brushed mine and I jumped, yelping. Panic spiked within me, seizing my chest. Flashes of vampires grabbing my arms flooded my mind. Their fangs biting down and feeding from me as I fell into their laps. The sight of Lazarus’s hooded eyes as he moaned and drank from my wrist like a man doing much more sinful things to a woman’s body.
“Aisling,” came a voice through the chaotic din in my head. “It’s me. It’s Willa. I’m still here. We’re safe.” Another hand, both now on my shoulders.
I blinked through the panic and, finally, my body relaxed. I exhaled heavily before gasping in another breath of stale-beer-air. “Gods. Willa. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head and smiled. “No worries. I totally get it. Here, come with me.”
Willa took my hand in hers and led me through the throng of people—each and every one of them suddenly looking like a predator, like someone who might come to the feeding community to drink—and brought me to a table tucked in a back corner. The next table was several feet way, and this one was situated near the back door. An easy escape, with two walls at our backs.
Willa reallywasjust as scared as I was. I, of course, didn’t want her to be terrified, but there was a certain comfort in our shared pain, too.
Willa flagged down a waitress and ordered two drinks before we sat at the table. It was only when I sat down and forced more breath into my lungs to calm my racing heart that I realized Willa had ordered us drinks of a tan color. Not dark. Not something that could be confused with blood in the bar’s dim lighting.
I smiled up at her. “Can you tell this is the first time I’ve been out at a bar at night since…?”
I didn’t need to finish the sentence. There was only one event that could qualify, and that had been me, at Mrak’s doing, burning the feeder community to the ground. Willa had grabbed a group of feeders like us and escaped before the worst of the fires had started.
Willa smiled as well before lifting her glass. “Since you burned that shithole down and saved us all. If we can’t drink to that, whatcanwe drink to?”
I raised the drink she’d gotten for me, still unsure of what it even was. “I suppose you’re right.”
“To freedom,” Willa said as she clinked her glass against mine.
“To freedom,” I echoed, though my heart wasn’t quite in it like hers seemed to be.
She sipped her drink and made a sickened face. “Ouch, that’s strong.” She nodded to where I still had my drink in hand, watching her. “Drink it. It’ll loosen you up. You look tense.”
“Can’t imagine why.” I brought the glass to my lips and sipped some of the warm liquid. A burst of flavor hit my tongue first, then burned its way down my throat as I swallowed. My eyes watered and I coughed a little. “What is this?”
“Whisky,” Willa replied. “Itwillhelp you relax. Trust me.”
Trust me.The same words Mrak had said. Trust was easier said than done for me. But if I couldn’t trust Willa, someone who’d suffered the same as I, who could I trust?
“Good,” I replied, sipping again. My body’s reaction wasn’t as strong this time. “Thank you for the drink.”
