Covet the Night, page 16
Becca scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Really? Everyone’s talking about us and not the Cellar massacre?"
"A massacre would imply the killer deliberately sought to murder those supernaturals. Are you saying your fallen human sister set out to murder all those people in conjunction with the vampyré?" Ruby's feminine laughter sounded again. Gwen winced. Becca lost the rosy color in her cheeks. "The Cellar was an unfortunate incident, and the offending party has already been dealt with. So, no," Ruby said loudly to overcome the cheering and crowded back toward the pair, "they aren't talking about the Cellar incident. They're talking about the humans who sassed a pair of demonesses and walked away without a scratch."
"Who?" Ruby cocked an eyebrow at Gwen's vague question. "Who was the offending party?"
Ruby's smirk was flat. "Who do you think? One of the sorcerer clans."
The confirmation rubbed Gwen the wrong way, but she couldn't explain why. As she swirled back to the front, she felt both Becca and Ruby studying her reaction. Gwen made sure none of her inner conflict came to the surface.
She didn't have to hide her true emotions for long.
The crowd had gone abruptly still. Gwen strained her neck to see what had happened and stood to peer around those who blocked her view. The wolverine was laid out flat, chest heaving. Its amulet hung triumphantly in the bear's jaws. A jolt of surprise went through her, and then the crowd erupted into applause. Carried by their spirit, Gwen clapped and cheered as well, reining in her exuberance when she received a pointed look from her soon-to-be sisters in red.
Gwen returned to her seat stiffly. Two shirtless men came to help the fallen wolverine out of the pit, but the defeated shifter snapped at their helping hands. He hobbled back through the fighter's entrance on his own. Some applauded the wolverine's exit, but most jeered. Gwen shot wide eyes Becca's way at the rude shouting.
"Maybe it's a European thing?" Becca's explanation made Gwen smirk as she found a comfortable position in her seat, half slouched, and one leg crossed over the other.
"Maybe it's a Dark Court thing?" Gwen countered.
Before the two could go on any longer, Count Delacroix resumed his place at center stage. "Wasn't that thrilling!" The count paused to receive a generous round of applause. "And we've one last special treat in store for you before our main event…." The ends of Count Delacroix's smile twisted with glee as he stepped back into the shadows. Whispers tore through the crowd as the air thinned palpably.
A heartbeat later, a loud crack permeated the room as a bolt of magenta lightning struck the center of the fighting pit. Dust, dirt, and blood ricocheted everywhere, dousing the closest to the pit with grime.
When the dust settled, Gwen gasped. A woman stood where the lightning had hit.
Gwen pressed a hand over her racing heart. It was Valdora, dressed in a long-sleeved velvet dress made of rich purple. Gwen couldn't easily forget the renowned tempest who'd drawn Laurel's disdain so easily.
Valdora waved benevolently at the crowd. "It is my great pleasure to entertain you all tonight," she announced graciously. "Now allow me to extend that pleasure to you!" The phantom wind returned to extinguish the remaining chandelier, casting the room in complete darkness.
A notable charge sizzled through the air. Excited murmuring ignited throughout the room. Gwen's breath caught as wild anticipation and trepidation lit up her nerves.
Crack.
Valdora stood illuminated beneath a continuous bolt of lightning of her own making. It rippled and flashed between her palms and the chandelier above. Gwen cringed back as the scent of burning wire tingled her nasal canal. Wary delight turning to numb awe as the lightning transitioned from brilliant glaring white to electric pink. The crowd broke out into rapturous applause.
Gwen clapped along politely, unable to fully enjoy the show with the events from the past two nights fresh in her mind. Once she was a vampyré and her body near indestructible, she'd find the magic acts more agreeable.
As the crowd's applause melded into synchronization, Gwen's trepidation rose. Valdora's arms were visibly shaking. The crowd was greedily demanding more as if they knew what was to come and refused to wait any longer. Gwen nervously reached up to toy with the ends of her hair, unable to join in on the exuberance. Her fingers froze as she watched Valdora begin to lower one arm.
The bolt was tearing in two to follow the descending palm.
Valdora cried triumphantly as her arm drew parallel to the ground, and the second split bolt shot out of her lowered palm. She'd become a conduit for the lightning—and by her echoing moans, she didn't mind one bit.
The blood drained from Gwen's face as the lightning jumped over the crowd, its lashing bolts stroking and licking the bodies of courtiers, who writhed in pure ecstasy.
Soon the room was filled with joyous laughter, cheers, and lewd climaxes. The hedonistic delight of the audience left Gwen blushing and squirming in her seat until she realized the electric pink bolt was making its way around the grandstand. Her blood ran cold.
The healing balm had left her with terrible cramps. The demoness's brief manipulation had given her a monstrous headache. What would Valdora's magic do when mixed with her tincture?
Gwen contemplated fleeing as the lightning grew closer but abandoned the idea almost immediately. She couldn't afford to make a scene or draw attention to herself by leaving now. What would people say? What would she say? She sat stiffly, awaiting its arrival with a clenched jaw. The caustic smell of burning wire vanished as it struck the column next to Gwen, replaced by the scent of crisp and clean air found the split second before a summer rainstorm. She closed her eyes and shuddered in a breath as the lightning touched her.
Pleasure engulfed Gwen, seizing her deepest desires and dragging them to the surface with searing authority. Every part of her was on delicious fire. She knew she was making obscene noises, but at least her voice was lost among the crowd.
Great God.
Gwen's hands clenched to fists, then splayed across her thighs as the taunting bite of ecstasy traversed her body. The electric magic was relentless in its siege. Her core throbbed. Her meager breasts ached to be touched. The mere slide of the fabric against her skin as she breathed left her quivering. Higher she climbed, reaching a point of almost painful exaltation when the magic pressed deeper inside her to wrap around her bones.
The subtle shift left Gwen gritting her teeth as pain entered the equation, slowly at first and then plowing past all sense of pleasure. Her enraptured moans turned to whimpers of acute agony. Her head twisted to the side.
She didn't understand. Why had the magic suddenly turned against her? Was this in reaction to her tincture? So soon?
Gwen trembled as a lone tear dripped down her cheek. Her scream was silent, caught in the clutches of the magic. She was dying from the inside out.
In the next instant, it was over.
Gwen's body slumped. She panted and grimaced as the pain slowly ebbed from her body—but not completely. She wiped away the tear prickling her lash line. She'd never hurt this badly before.
An icy hand rested on her shoulder. "Gwendolyn, what's wrong?"
Gwen could only manage to shake her head and shrug weakly. Indigo, Antonia's sire-to-be, eyed her with calculated concern, her reassuring touch moving away to wipe under Gwen's nose. She was too tired to retreat from the touch, but her heart gave a little shudder as she saw the smear of red left on Indigo's fingers.
"The spell must have had an adverse effect on you," Indigo pondered aloud. "Pity. Shall I call over Laurel?"
Sucking in a breath, Gwen heaved herself into an upright position against her body's protest. "I'll tell her myself after the fight." She flicked her gaze to where Laurel sat a few rows down and a column over. A man was pressed against her side, their faces locked together. "I'd hate to interrupt."
Indigo grinned. "Me too. The last time someone interrupted Laurel, they got their tongue ripped out." Then she turned and began to talk animatedly with the sister on her other side.
Gwen sat silently, sniffing back what little blood remained in her nasal canal and pinching the same soft patch of skin as before. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Becca's hand flutter in front of her face to calm the rosy hue on her cheeks.
After a few minutes, the younger girl cleared her throat. "That was… quite the display."
Gwen's cheek twitched, and she responded somberly. "Quite."
Becca ran her eyes over Gwen, her brows pinching together. "Is this how you usually look… after?"
Gwen shook her head.
"Unfortunately, her spell brought more pain than pleasure for me."
The healthy flush from Becca's cheeks dropped by several degrees. "Oh shit. Are you all right?"
"I'll survive." Hopefully long enough to make the initiation. Gwen offered a tight-lipped smile to the other American and attempted to breathe through the lingering pain.
Fifteen minutes later, when the last of the audience was treated to their magical climaxes, Valdora received a standing ovation. Gwen rose begrudgingly after a sidelong glance from Indigo. The tempest bowed and, with a wide sweep of her arm, relit the chandelier above the pit before departing just as she came—in a flash of lightning.
Gwen dropped back into her seat, biting back a distraught moan as her body throbbed in discomfort.
"Here." A hand cut into Gwen's peripheral vision. She flinched at first before inspecting Ruby's offering closer: a small blue pill. "Take it."
Gwen frowned. "What is it?"
"Something to ease the pain you're obviously in." Ruby sighed as Gwen's expression remained. "Truly. I keep them on hand in case Nova gets into a fight. They help ease the ache and promote faster healing. There's no need for you to suffer."
Becca shook her head discreetly as Gwen's frown fell away. "Don't," she advised. "You know better than to take some pill from a—"
"And I know better than to try to poison one of the Roux's precious initiates," Ruby interrupted effortlessly, both eyebrows raised. "There's enough bad blood between our families as it is," she continued in a gentler tone, big brown eyes softening. "Please, take it. You'll feel better, I promise."
Gwen glanced at Becca, who was chewing on her bottom lip. She caught Gwen's eye and lifted one shoulder.
Fuck. Gwen didn't doubt the pill would make her feel better, but it would also make her feel worse later. What if she couldn’t hide her pain? Would the sisterhood grow suspicious? She couldn’t afford the attention or the inevitable magical remedy they would provide her with, which would, of course, only hurt her further. Anxiety gnawed at Gwen’s insides as her thoughts spiraled. Surely, they’d make the connection that something was amiss and if they dug deeper and found out about her cancer? That would be endgame for Gwen, Laurel, and the others by Madame Roux’s hands.
Ruby’s hand inched closer. With Becca’s probing gaze on her, Gwen plucked the pill from Ruby’s palm. She'd go straight back to her room after the fight, soak in a steaming hot bath with another couple of aspirin to hedge the worst of the pain that would come with dabbling in more magic, and hope her acting skills were up to par.
"Suck on it," Ruby instructed quickly as Gwen popped the pill into her mouth. Gwen did so, eyes widening comically as minty freshness erupted on her tongue. "How do you feel?" Ruby asked after a minute.
"Like I've been swallowed by a cloud," Gwen said with such relief that she colored in embarrassment. Even Becca's credulous expression cracked at the pure ardor with which Gwen spoke. Every delicate suckle from the medicinal mint brought about a wave of soothing warmth. Gwen melted in gratitude. "This is heaven."
"I think it's working a little too well on her." Nova eyed Gwen with wry amusement.
Ruby grimaced playfully. "Maybe. Jax did intend them for supernatural consumption…."
Jax. The name was oddly familiar to Gwen, who was quietly losing her better senses as a different kind of euphoria left her in limpid relaxation. Where had she heard that name?
Her eyes widened only marginally as forgotten memories came to the surface of her dazed mind. He was a sorcerer in the Vrana family. Or was he employed by the Vrana family? It didn't matter. Either way, he belonged to them. Gwen thought it would be a wonderful idea to invite him into the Roux family's service, for his mint was ten times better than whatever tincture Laurel had found her.
And ten times stronger.
"Should her head dip like that?" she heard Becca ask.
Are they talking about me? Gwen's gaze refocused, and she discovered she was staring at her lap. She didn't remember dropping her chin to rest on her chest like that. How curious.
A howling cheer broke through the dense fog, pleasantly clouding Gwen's head and pillowing her aches and pains. She blinked several times, righting herself till her spine fully met the seat's back.
"Are you all right?" Becca's fingers grazed Gwen's forearm to get her attention
"I'm fine, just…." Gwen licked her lips as she fought the fog back some more. "I think I might be high." She’d indulged pre-Dark Court, but this was an entirely different experience.
Becca snorted and grinned. "You are definitely high."
Gwen laughed deep from her belly, and Becca did too. She knew she must look ridiculous, but she didn’t care. The only other time she'd felt such peace within her body was when she'd first taken her tincture. But the tincture had left her revitalized, not high.
Her laughter simmered to a giggle as the crowd's general liveliness filled the arena with excited talk of Valdora's display mixed with blatant disdain for her show of power.
Gwen couldn't summon the energy to figure out where her feelings lay on the matter. All that mattered was—
"William."
She clenched her hands in her lap, spotting him in the entrance hall. She was immediately struck down from her high as their eyes somehow met through the rambunctious crowd. Gwen swallowed, unable to tear her eyes away from his shadowed figure. A strange feeling wrapped around her heart that she was helpless to ignore.
She scooted to the edge of her seat as Count Delacroix made his way to the fighting pit. He raised a hand to quiet the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen, scoundrels and whores"—bawdy calls hollered back at the count in good fashion while others whistled or booed insincerely—"it's time for the fight of the century! Tonight, the Beast will take on the young Hugo de Armas for the last of the Mubark sunlight rings. Place your bets with your bookmaker now before time runs out!"
Through the clamor that ensued, Gwen's eyes remained on William and his on her.
She'd thought of him the past few nights, about his kiss and passionate declarations and propositions. Gwen nibbled on her bottom lip. She knew his flattery was merely an attempt to derail her from the Roux's initiation, but she'd dreamed they were genuine, nonetheless. What woman wouldn't wish for that kind of earnest devotion?
He was a fearsome sight in the shadows, with his hair pulled back and torso on full display. But Gwen was not afraid.
Tattoos covered the majority of his skin, his arms and chest the primary canvases, leaving his abdomen bare to show off the carved muscle there. He wore only the bottom half of a gi. The white pants looked loose to make fighting easier, but there was no hiding the impression of muscle as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
As Gwen's eyes drew back up to William's, she was met with a self-satisfied smirk.
She quickly looked away, her gaze landing on his nearby opponent. Hugo de Armas was even taller than William, a feat Gwen thought impossible in the Dark Court, but he wasn't nearly as muscular. There was no denying his fine physique, yet she wondered how he'd made it all the way to the final round.
As Hugo turned his gaze over the audience, she saw a pair of jagged scars running down his cheek. His expression was painted with apathy while a dainty woman fussed about him. In truth, the woman looked more anxious than the fighter, but a few words from Hugo seemed to calm her. The towering man bent almost in half to kiss her even as she stood on the tips of her toes to meet him.
A few wistful sighs sounded around the arena.
What is the name of Hugo's lover? Gwen squinted at the pair, digging through her memory with no success.
"Stare any harder, and you'll fall out of your seat." Ruby's hand fell on her shoulder and tugged her back with ease.
Gwen turned and glared. "I wasn't going to fall out of my seat."
"Weren't you?" Ruby spun to Nova, who viewed the proceedings with bland interest. "Tell her she was going to fall out of her seat."
Nova's deep chocolate eyes, lined thinly with silver, flicked to Gwen briefly before adhering back to the fighting pit. "You were going to fall out of your seat." Her words were drier than the Sahara.
Ruby smirked at Gwen. "Do you know our William?"
Gwen stiffened. "Your William?"
Ruby hummed knowingly, eyes absorbing Gwen's every reaction. "The Gunwyns are quite close with our family. We sponsored their entrance, did you know? They're the last family to be given the title of Major Household."
That doesn't make him yours, a voice inside Gwen's head said sourly.
"We've met." She strived for a neutral expression.
"Have you now?"
Gwen blushed at Ruby's tone. Thankfully, Becca stepped in to reply. "He was at the ball held in our honor," she said matter-of-factly. "He introduced himself to all of us."
Gwen eyed Becca discreetly. She'd not mentioned their time with him in the Cellar Bar. Gwen thought that was for the best.
Ruby made some noise in her throat, casting a sidelong glance at Nova. The Native American woman wordlessly offered her hand to Ruby, eyes still vigilant on the pit below. Ruby laced their hands together, a pleased, fond smile encapsulating her lips.
"Is that all?" Ruby asked. Gwen nodded. She didn't trust her wayward tongue, and an odd rush of insecurity had invaded her. She really should mind her words better. "By the way he's looking at you, you'd think there was more between the two of you."
