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Sparrow shoved her as she dragged on her other boot, knocking her off balance. Faye fell on the bed, glaring at her sister.
“We don’t have time for this. We need to go before they come back and arrest us.” Faye glanced over the room as she spoke, focusing on things at different distances. She felt hungover, but she could see. Her vision wasn’t obstructed or damaged. Her gaze returned to Sparrow as she hissed, “And you’re not a healer.”
“No shit.” Sparrow covered Faye’s eyes with her palms, splaying her fingers over her scalp. “But I can tell if you have some weird internal bleeding or blockage.”
Warmth spread over Faye’s eyes, into her skull. The tinges of pain eased, and Sparrow let her go.
“I don’t feel anything wrong. Are you sure you’re seeing fine?” Sparrow leaned forward, peering into Faye’s eyes.
Faye pulled her head back, pushing Sparrow’s face away. “You need to brush your teeth.”
Snorting in response, Sparrow made a rude gesture.
Pulling her winter jacket on, she grabbed Sparrow’s coat with one hand and her sister’s wrist with the other. Faye managed to slip from the clinic before the healer returned. People bustled in the streets, going about their morning business. They walked with the crowd, blending into it.
“Want to stop and get breakfast?” Sparrow lifted her chin at a bakery down the street.
Men glanced at Faye as they walked, their smiles fading when they found her index finger empty.
Faye tucked her hair behind her ear, ignoring the crowd. As much as she claimed to not care, their dismissal hurt. “I want to get out of here. We can get breakfast in Anaria.”
They made their way to the coach with quiet conversation. Faye preferred to travel manually. She couldn’t phase, and Sparrow refused to dedicate the time to learn the skill. Faye had trouble trusting a stranger not to phase her to his dark court, where he could keep her as a pet.
After Sparrow purchased their tickets, the two of them entered the carriages designated for dark-bloods, which would take them to the main station. From there, they would phase to Anaria.
She leaned back in the plush seats. An ornate lantern hung from the ceiling, illuminating the cabin’s dark interior. Sparrow immediately sat next to the large shelf affixed between the windows. She selected a square of dried meat from a platter of fruits, cheese, and cuts of dried meat. Faye took the pitcher next to the platter, pouring them both glasses of water.
“Do you think day-bloods get this in their carriages?” Faye took a small cluster of grapes sitting back in her seat.
Sparrow shrugged, picking through the cuts of meat. “Never been.”
Faye watched the landscape pass by her window, wondering what her life would look like if Sparrow had left her to join a court.
After they’d invoked their blood, numerous courts sent invitations, requesting Sparrow to join their ranks. Faye accompanied Sparrow to a few in the beginning. Sparrow hadn’t taken it well when they welcomed her and ignored Faye.
A man at one of the courts had approached them and asked, “Is this your pet, love?” Brushing Faye’s hair back over her shoulder.
Sparrow had knocked him across the room with a blast of power, yelling, “Call my sister a pet again.”
The court’s guard advanced on them, and the interaction went downhill from there.
Faye had insisted that Sparrow should join a court. Her sister refused, claiming she would only join a court if they also took Faye and recognized her as a member. No court was willing to take an Anarian.
The sunlight beamed, warm on Faye’s skin. She glanced at Sparrow, who kicked her feet, watching the scenery go by as she ate her fill.
A few years ago, after Sparrow stopped answering the court invitations, she thought it would be a brilliant idea to start their own court. Just the two of them.
Until she found out starting a court needed a minimum of five members, and it needed to be authorized by a ruler of one of the five realms. She’d snorted, proclaiming they were an unofficial court.
Faye glanced out over the rolling hills, her thoughts falling to the night before. She’d been dreaming of the man she ran into before the bitch healer woke her up.
He’d been lying on his side when she woke in the dream. He looked the way he did at the Hunter’s Moon ball. Crimson so dark it looked black covered his eyes. Veined misted shadows swayed beneath them. His eyes didn’t unnerve her. They were expressive, held such yearning as he gazed at her.
Faye tapped Sparrow’s boot with her own. “Do you think the guy I ran into was really the Shadow Prince?”
Sparrow tilted her head. “Probably, who else would masquerade as him at the Hunter’s Moon ball?”
She was probably right. The attendants didn’t glamor fangs. They had them. She imagined the Pure Bloods frowned on normal vampires masquerading as them as much as the dark-bloods hated Anarians wearing dark-blooded rings.
