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Yes.
Yes.That’s it, I want to scream.
Yet I don’t understand whatitis at all.
Her low, sensual voice is lovelier than any I’ve ever heard—a strangely deep and powerful sound for such a small woman. She clearly has a hell of a set of lungs on her.
She should be singing for a living, rather than running this club. She has the looks for it too; she’d become a pop star if she tried. I tell her so, and she laughs.
“I used to sing, actually.” A shadow darkens her gaze. “In another time, and another place.” She shakes her head, pushing the memory aside. “The lyrics were once different, but they changed over time, to reflect modern events. It is strange that you would hear it.”
Her golden-brown eyes seem bright when she stares at me in silence, scrutinizing me in a way I don’t find comfortable.
I shift on my seat.
“Strange,” I agree. Quiet or not, the Hall is still a nightclub. I shouldn’t hear anything except what the DJ’s playing for us. “It’s pretty depressing, for a children’s story.”
“So are most tales. If you want someone to have a terrible life, wish they were a fairy tale princess.”
I wrinkle my nose, thinking about poor Sleeping Beauty, raped in her tower only to be awoken by her newborn children. “You can say that again. The happiest of them marry strangers who don’t even tend to bother to ask. But most just die.”
“Tales were always meant as warnings. I don’t know when humanity decided they should end happily, but I think they’ve lost something.”
“An opportunity for dramatic endings?” I joke.
Cissa smiles, showing those perfect white teeth. “Common sense.”
We sip our respective drinks in silence until Eochan walks out of the basement in the company of a tall, handsome man dressed like he’s applying for the part of Prince Charming on a stage.
His getup’s particularly comical to me after our talk of stories: he looks like he was plucked right out of the pages of a fairy tale.
He wears a rich black and blue costume, flawlessly executed, and even has a crown on his shoulder-length white-blond hair.
More surprising yet, I see he has extended ears when his head shifts to the side as he whispers to Eochan. He takes his cosplay seriously.
Eochan sighs and shakes his head. Then he spots his girlfriend and smiles, crossing the room to join us.
The stranger’s annoyed at the interruption. He lifts his gaze to sneer in Cissa’s direction.
That’s when he notices me.
That’s when he, too, smiles.
Oh, boy.
CHAPTER FOUR
I SHOULD HAVE CALLED MY SHRINK
Darina
He’s not the first man who’s looked at me like he wants to take a bite. He’s not even the first today. I grimace and focus on my drink again. The costume, I don’t mind, but the entitlement in his demeanor is another story. He exudes arrogance, leering like he believes I already belong to him just because he wants a taste and he’s half pretty.
That overconfidence can be hot…when I want a bite in return. And I really don’t.
I tense, watching him stride right to me, ahead of Eochan, and completely ignore Cissa who pleasantly waves.
“Junis. This is Darina, one of our regulars. Darina, Junis, my cousin.” She wrinkles her nose.
