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“Why?” Sparrow widened her eyes, silently demanding more details.
Faye glanced out her window again. “I was dreaming about his bad eyeliner.”
Sparrow’s squeal pulled Faye’s attention. “Wait, are you talking about the Shadow Prince or the guy at the Court of Silver Leaves? Because you have a shot with Silver Leaves. Did you like him?”
Faye was definitely not dreaming of Silver Leaves. He would forget she existed the instant he found out she didn’t carry a soul shard. But the Shadow Prince was worse.
He embodied everything she hated about the social hierarchy. He belonged to the darkest court. He ruled Hell. The only redeeming quality he possessed was he lumped day-bloods and Anarians together, seeing them both as little more than animals.
Which wasn’t right, but it amused Faye that the day-bloods received the same ill-treatment they passed on to Anarians.
“No. I just dreamt of eyes like that.”
“Pure Blood eyes? Kinky.”
She curled up to him during the dream. Faye imagined him leaning down, bringing his lips a moment from hers. Waiting for a touch that would serve as an invitation to her body.
And for the first time in her life, she was tempted to offer it.
Faye shook the feeling, refusing to allow anyone that close. All a dark-blood saw when they looked at her was a pleasant evening. She understood. A life with her would diminish their social standing. The family she once dreamed of could only happen if she found a man willing to weaken his line by tying it with hers. She’d taken that pain, soothed it the only way she knew how. By covering it with an anger that constantly burned in her.
She would offer herself to no man. Her body was the only thing they wanted, the only thing she had left to give after fate stripped her of everything else. She wouldn’t offer it up like a doe-eyed fool and leave herself with nothing. She wielded their desire like a weapon, letting them choke on their want.
This was the only choice fate left to her, and she defended it viciously.
“So. What were you doing with Pure Blood eyes?” Sparrow grinned.
“Nothing,” Faye answered too quickly.
“That’s so boring. Were his eyes up here?” Sparrow held her hand near her face. “Down here.” Sparrow lowered her hand to her breasts. “Was he down here?” Sparrow moved her hand lower, spreading her legs.
Faye shook her head, turning to look out the window.
“I’ve heard vampires purr. It’s supposed to feel amazing. You need to ride that guy’s face and report back.” Sparrow crossed her arms, giving Faye a stern look.
“You can research that for yourself.”
Sparrow brought her hand to her chest, gasping dramatically. “I’m with Vash, you harlot.” Her expression returned to normal as she raised her eyebrows. “And I know how much you love blue balling every dark-blood that happens to stumble across you. Think of riding his face as taking it to the next level.”
Faye laughed. “No.” She couldn’t imagine straddling a man’s mouth, but the logistics of it needled her. “How does he breathe?”
Sparrow snorted. “Beauty of dating immortals, it doesn’t matter. Just sit. If he dies, he dies. He’ll wake up in a couple hours after he regenerates.”
“You haven’t done that to Vash, have you?” Faye managed between giggles.
Sparrow winked. “I try to kill him anytime he gives me the opportunity.”
They both broke out in laughter. When they calmed, Faye glanced out her window once more.
“I’m sure Silver Leaf would love to dress up like the Shadow Prince for you.” Sparrow teased. “He’d probably be more than willing to go to his knees for you too.”
Faye’s smile faded. “He was only nice because he thought I was dark-blooded.” Silver Leaf didn’t see her.
She was a body to him. One he’d like to warm his bed with.
The coach came to a stop, and the door clicked. They exited, and Sparrow dropped her head back dramatically.
“Look at that line.” She turned to Faye. “Carry me.”
