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Were they at the bar the other night too? I don't remember, but I think they were.
One of them grins at me, humor in his blue eyes. He has dark umber skin and braids in his long hair. He's beautiful in a brutal sort of way, but he doesn't look dangerous. I think he probably is, though.
The one beside him screams darkness and danger. He's pale with a single black eye. A vicious scar bisects the other, running halfway down his cheek. He watches me intently, as if he's weighing and measuring the worth of my soul. I'm not sure what he decides, but I quickly shift my gaze from him when he cocks his brow as if to call me out for staring at him.
The man standing closest to the stairs is beautiful. Out of everyone in the room aside from Dax, he's the most human, but there's something about him that's simply different. I've seen beautiful men before. They're everywhere in this world. But this one is too perfectly formed. Too bright. His brown skin gleams. His amber eyes aren't shadowed. There is no cold arrogance in the way he holds himself. Out of everyone in the room, he's the one who looks the most human…yet seems the most Fae.
The final man in the room seems almost deceptively normal compared to the others. He's massive like Dax, with olive skin and gold eyes. There's an air of authority about him, and an endless abundance of patience. He smiles at me when I meet his gaze, his expression kind.
I'm positive every one of them is Fae like Dax. Not the girl, though. She's human like me. She's beaming at me, practically quivering where she stands as if it's taking everything she has not to race forward to introduce herself. I like her immediately.
"Rissa, these are my brothers," Dax says, leading me down the final few stairs. My feet hit the bottom and I stop, refusing to move any further. "Damrion." He points at the Fae who smiled at me. "Adriel." The scarred Fae. "Malachi." The Fae with humor in his eyes. "And Kyvon. We call him Reaper." Reaper gives me a salute. "And this is Abigail."
"Hi," I whisper, my stomach fluttering with nerves. How the heck do you introduce yourself to a room full of warriors you're pretty sure have been alive longer than everyone you've ever met, combined?
"Valkyrie," Damrion says, his voice a deep rumble, like a rockslide.
"Sup, Rissa?" Malachi grins at me.
"Sup?" Reaper shoots a scornful look at Malachi. "Howhaveyou lived this long?"
Malachi hefts his finger in the air, making the human girl giggle.
Damrion shoots a quelling look at the two warriors.
"Hi, Rissa." Abigal skips forward to meet me, flinging her arms out. Before I can react, she pulls me into a fierce hug. "I'm really happy you're finally here. I knew Dax would find you."
"Um…hi." I hug her back, taken off guard by her warmth and exuberance. It's unexpected, especially in a place like this. And then her words register, crashing together with Dax's cryptic comment from earlier that he'd show me how he knew I was thinking about sneaking out of the window. I gasp, pulling back to look at Abigail. "You knew about me?"
"I saw you," she says, bobbing her head. Her red braid bounces with the movement, little baby hairs around her face shifting too. "It's what I do. See things."
"She's a psychic?" I ask, looking to Dax for confirmation.
"She isn't like the humans you see on television, Valkyrie," Adriel growls. "She's a powerful Seer. One of the most powerful we've ever known. What she sees always comes to pass.Always."
I flinch at the rebuke in his tone, as if my question somehow offended him even though I didn't intend it to be offensive.
"I'm like you," Abigail says, her soft tone a stark contrast to his. "One of my ancestors was a Valkyrie. There are others like us here."
"They see the future too?"
"Nei, elskan-ljós," Dax murmurs, placing his hand on the small of my back again. "Not all. Not even most. Some sense when things are going to happen. Some can predict the weather,or wars. Some are skilled with healing. But most possess no gifts at all."
"There are no others here as strong as Abigail." Malachi meets my gaze. "At least, there weren't."
"Awesome," I say with false enthusiasm. So I guess that means I'm as much an oddball here as I have been my whole life. It's an uncomfortable realization. One I should be used to by now, I suppose. But when you've always been the weird one, the one who sensed things no one else did, people always look at you differently. No matter how hard you try to fit in, you always stand out anyway. I guess I get to do that here too.
I don't relish it. For once in my life, I don't want to be the girl with a dead mom and a murderous father. I don't want to be a freak of nature. I just want…what? I've never known exactly how to answer that question. It's like the answer is on the tip of my tongue, but it eludes me.
Dax shifts beside me and my gaze flickers in his direction. Even in profile, he's one of the most handsome men I've ever met, so fierce and radiant. Like the sunrise on a battlefield.
An answer bubbles up from deep within my soul. One that terrifies and excites me in equal measure.
Him.I want him.
I want his lips on mine again like they were upstairs.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the thought, but it refuses to budge. It's in there now, stuck. He's in there now, burrowing deeper the longer I'm here. I didn't tell him, but that's why I wanted to flee. Not because of Valhalla or the Forsaken or any of the not-quite-believable things he told me. But because, out of all of them, he's the thing that scares me the most.
