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“But you don’t know where they went?”
Nivira shook her head sadly. “It’s like they disappear. I sometimes think I can hear laughter and other times tears when I am looking beyond the web and peering at the threads. I’m in-between worlds at that point and can see some things clearer, but I’ve never been able to determine where it comes from.”
“But you’ll tell me if you hear it again, right?” MaryAnne whispered. “So maybe we can finally find it.”
The drya gave her an odd, searching look but nodded. “I will. I do not care for such mysteries either. I prefer to know what is occurring within my web.”
MaryAnne bit her lip. “Since you winter here, I imagine that this is not like your other temporary webs that you’ve built. How far do your webs extend here?”
“Far,” Nivira replied. “We cast the skeins as we weave them. They go some distance out.” She blinked and turned away to bend down low, and that was when MaryAnne saw that they had arrived at some sort of large cupboard. When she straightened again, it was with a small red pot in her palm. The drya’s face softened as she extended it. “Here. For you. Since we are trusting each other, I hope that we shall become friends in turn, and therefore I wish to give you this gift.”
“I would like that.” Accepting the token of friendship, MaryAnne turned the small pot in her hands inquisitively. “What is it?”
“It is an easing ointment,” Nivira whispered with a giggle.
MaryAnne blinked down at it and looked up to scrutinize the other female. “A what?”
The upper arachnid claws waved through the air in a gesture of nervous excitement, and the female giggled again. “An ointment that I make to ease my sister’s muscles when she has finished performing. It is an old recipe with many uses for easing certain muscles and providing extra flexibility and comfort. Just a few various herbs and the tiniest amount of our venom is enough to accomplish a lot—even ease females who have never been mounted before.” Her eyes glittered in the faint light. “A male drya is built in a way so that his cock can pierce deep and fill us completely when we take his seed… much like your troll, I suspect.”
MaryAnne’s mouth dropped open, and she felt heat crawling up her cheeks and along the tops of her ears. She was embarrassed, but she was also intrigued with the idea. “This will help me… take him?”
“Oh, most assuredly. And it will allow you to be breached without pain and with great pleasure, I might add. As I recall from my own first attempt at breeding, all it takes is two fingers full of the ointment slathered along your slit and into it. It has a most marvelous effect.”
Fingers clutching tightly around the pot, MaryAnne nodded and slipped it into her pants pocket. “I will remember that.”
“It’s very important—no more than two fingers full and only once. You do not wish to put too much venom into your body. Especially not a human body,” Nivira said gravely.
MaryAnne swallowed nervously but nodded. Using something with fae venom in it could probably be considered the height of stupidity, but if it helped her take Raskyuil’s cock easier then she was willing to risk it. She glanced around, suddenly impatient for his return. Noting her distraction, the drya made a small sound of amusement.
“Come, there is more I may distract you with before my first customer arrives,” she murmured as she turned to the cupboard and another light flared, lighting the overgrown part of the tent. She tipped her head with a secretive smile. “This way, MaryAnne.”
“All right,” MaryAnne whispered.
She followed her over to a long table upon which many bottles of various sizes and strange implements were arranged. She stared in fascination as Nivira picked up the first one and explained its occult use in weaving certain spells. Captivated, MaryAnne listened as she took her first willing step into a new world.
ChapterTwenty-Six
Raskyuil stormed up behind the vampires, impatient with their laughter as they playfully hugged the humans between them, the scent of their lust and hunger filling his nose. While they hadn’t yet attacked—and it was entirely possible that they were just indulging the unusual playful side that so many vampires had—his separation from MaryAnne was like a tormenting itch beneath his skin that he was having to suffer because of this pair potentially hunting within the carnival grounds. Especially since he knew that technically, as long as they didn’t harm the humans, they weren’t breaking any rules of the carnival.
The vampires, like other fairies who subsisted on small quantities of blood, could hunt and drink as long as they didn’t take much, and their prey was able to leave without any ill effect. The possibility that they could be the sort to indiscriminately kill one of their human guests, however, was what was wasting his time.
His hands twitched with the desire to toss them out of the carnival, and his gaze shifted briefly to the illuminated orb that was slowly losing its light. It was beyond half gone with not but an hour or so remaining before the carnival closed for the night. He would have his mate alone with him in his tent soon. He needed that reminder. Some of the tension wound tightly within him eased, and a small portion of his bloodlust faded. It would be soon. Not much longer now. He could deal with the vampires reasonably and determine if they were a threat.
Was it possible that these vampires had been following their carnival and draining those they marked as easy prey? He’d spent enough time around vampires while he was assisting a vampiric nest in dealing with an ancient monster that had descended upon their territory that he knew that not all vampires were discerning about where they got their food. He wouldn’t say so to MaryAnne when everything about this world terrified her, not unless he knew for sure, but younglings would be a quick and convenient meal for creatures such as they. And if this pair was following them and had been plucking victims from among their guests, then he would be certain to deal with them in the bloodiest manner possible as a warning to any other who might try it.
His hands loosened and he stretched his fingers, and he splayed them wide though he was aware that it brought emphasis to his claws since they were fully unsheathed rather than at their resting length. They curved wickedly and apparently caught the eye of the male in the vampire pair as he glanced back at him.
The male’s crimson eye fastened upon him, and he stepped away from the human at his side to whirl around freely so that he was facing Raskyuil. His soft hiss had his companion likewise abandoning her prey, and she crossed the distance that separated her from the male with considerable speed. Her own crimson eyes fastened nervously on Raskyuil and he bared his teeth in a facsimile of smile.
“What brings vampires to the carnival? Hunting?” he rumbled.
The female gave the male—her mate, he presumed, given the way their scents mingled together—a nervous look before glancing back at Raskyuil. “We aren’t doing anything wrong. There is nothing that forbids from hunting here if we are not harming anyone.”
He cocked his head, his tail flicking lazily. “But were you? How long have you been using our carnival for your hunting grounds? What vulnerable prey have you targeted beneath our care?”
A look of disgust crossed the male’s face as his words sank in. “Vulnerable? You speak of children? We do not hunt children. As for your carnival, it is true that we have followed you since your last two stops, but no more. We leave this place come the next nightfall.”
The female nodded in agreement as she cast an unhappy look around. “We don’t like this place. The humans here are more docile than any of the others, but there is a strange smell here. A dark, twisted sort magic that we want no part of.” She spat and swept her hand around them. “You speak of children… What children do you even see here? There are couples and small family groups, but no children. Not one. Doesn’t that strike you as odd, troll?”
