The Ravenous Dark, page 18
"That was a one-time thing, B," Franklin said.
"It's happened twice," Bailey argued. Franklin waved off the statement and shrugged. Bailey's temper flared. "I was hunted down by a storm of shadows two floors up. It ate up all the light." It was going to eat me. "I thought I ditched it by the time I got down here, but then Luka showed up. There was this ugly black spot on his hand, and I think—I think it must have infected him because his eyes were completely black, too, and the shadowmancer appeared. One minute Luka was raving on about being hungry, but then when the shadowmancer appeared he attacked me."
Both Wildings turned solemn.
"Shit," Q rumbled. He looked to Franklin. "What do you think, boss?"
Franklin wore a studious frown as she pondered Bailey's story. "Was it the black spot that killed Luka, or the shadowmancer?"
"I think the shadowmancer was controlling Luka somehow, but it was the black spot that did him in. Those scratch marks on his neck? He did that to himself. At one point, the black spot leeched its way up to his face. Then he started convulsing. It must have killed him from the inside out."
Franklin's frown didn't lessen. "Put him down, Q."
The body landed on the floor with a cringe-worthy thud. Franklin walked over to it and crouched. She glanced at Bailey.
"Which hand had the spot?"
Bailey blinked. "Oh, um, his right. I think." Franklin inspected both in clear view of the others, but no spot was visible. "I swear it was there," Bailey insisted, drawing closer to the body as well. Franklin stood. "After he kicked the bucket, all the black stuff—the veins, the weird spot on his hand—they all disappeared. It was like his body absorbed it or something."
A sharp whistle rang down the hall. Emmanuel stood at the far end with a thumb stuck up.
"Go ahead and take care of the body, Q."
The bear shifter hiked up an eyebrow but didn't say a word as he hoisted Luka's body over his shoulder once more and plodded down the hall. The two women watched him go in contemplative silence.
"Thanks for the help," Bailey said when the men were no longer in sight. Franklin grinned.
"Happy to be of service, but I've got to say, B, this isn't a good look. Killing off a member of a Major Household—"
"I didn't kill him."
Franklin heaved a sigh and rested a hand on her hip. "Listen, I believe you, but the rest of the court? Without any witnesses, you might as well have staked him yourself in a fit of she-wolf rage or some bullshit like that."
"But the shadowmancer already attacked twice."
Franklin arched both eyebrows. "So? That's old news."
"But—"
"It doesn't matter, Bailey," Franklin said sharply. "You're not going to win if it comes out that you were the last person to see Krovopuskov, let alone that you saw him die. You'll just be the girl who cried wolf, and don't think for a second, they won't relish in the irony of that."
Bailey bit her tongue.
For months, she witnessed the inequality and injustices the "secondary" supernaturals at court dealt with on a nightly basis. The lack of respect, harsher punishments, and barred access to certain areas of the Dark Court—mainly on the upper levels—always left a bitter taste in the back of her mouth.
It was a comfort to know the Vranas were slowly making progress on reform, but that comfort was small. She and River were shielded from the worst of such treatments while under the Vrana's care, but she doubted that protection would hold under the weight of the full court's disapproval.
Franklin was right. She couldn't breathe a word about this to anyone. A gentle weight landed on her shoulder. Bailey broke from her dour reverie and looked at Franklin. The leader of the Wildings gave a softer sigh and squeezed her shoulder.
"Personally? I don't give a fuck that Krovopuskov's gone. Good riddance. That's one less asshole vampyré we have to worry about harassing us. Right? Don't sweat it, B. The Wildings have your back. We won't say a thing about what happened. Before we left, I had Nia round up a few dormice shifters. They're going to do a thorough sweep of this area and make sure this can't be traced back to you. Then Nia and I will come up with a game plan on how to spin this when people start asking where he is."
A wave of relief washed over Bailey. "Thanks. Again."
Franklin laughed as the energy drained from Bailey with a slump of her shoulders. "Don't tell me you're calling it a night? Come on, the moon's still out, which means there's still mischief to be had." Franklin gave her shoulder a small shake. "What? Offing a vampyré doesn't get your adrenaline pumping?"
"I didn't—"
"Semantics, B." Franklin stepped back. The grin that sprouted on her face split the cut healing there. It was apparent Franklin had already gotten into some mischief before Bailey called on her. She wasn't surprised. "Come on… you know you want to."
Temptation teased her. Even Bailey's wolf was intrigued at the prospect of extending their nightly adventure.
"Maybe."
Franklin groaned but didn't push the matter. "If that maybe turns into a yes, you can find me and a bunch of the others in the Styx."
"You're not going back to the old fighting pits?"
She shook her head. "We were only there to clean up after a disagreement got a little out of hand. Anyway, you're more than welcome to come hang out. The Styx always proves good for business, so you might even snag some extra cash."
A bleak creaking noise stalled Bailey's response. The women looked to the wall, watching as the large tapestry hanging there was pushed aside to reveal three persons carrying an assortment of cleaning supplies.
"Looks like the cavalry has arrived," Franklin remarked. "I got it from here. Why don't you head back to your place and clean up if you decide to join us? The gossip mills are in full swing tonight, and that shiner on your face will stir them into a frenzy."
Bailey's fingertips grazed her cheek and winced. "Good idea. See you later. Maybe"
Franklin's eyes narrowed. A flash of emotion ghosted across her face before disappearing. She nodded at Bailey, then turned to the dormice shifters, barking out orders.
Bailey made it to the Vrana's suite in record time. She specifically chose a longer route and ducked into passageways to avoid notice. A sigh of relief passed her lips as the front door closed behind her. She hoped everyone was still out enjoying themselves. Dawn was still a couple of hours off, and—
The slightly tacky sound of feet padding against wooden floors reached Bailey's ears. She held her breath as they neared.
"Hey," River chirped. A chorus of crunches followed the greeting. Bailey exhaled. The crunches died down as River took her fill of Bailey, eyebrows rising as she did. "Were you wearing that before?"
"Is that my cereal?"
River nodded and took another heaping spoonful. Bailey's stomach grumbled. "I'm surprised you're awake," Bailey commented. River shrugged halfheartedly. "Does the fridge have anything worthwhile in it?" River paused thoughtfully before nodding and leading the way back to the kitchen.
"So, what's with the outfit change?" River leaned against the kitchen's door frame as Bailey raided the fridge.
She didn't answer right away, pulling out several items and setting them on the nearby counter. Once a neat pile of charcuterie was arranged, Bailey dug in. She glanced at River. Annoyance was carving a dent between her eyebrows. Bailey grinned through a mouthful of food.
"Is anyone else here?" Bailey asked after swallowing.
"No." She glanced at the clock hanging above the sink. "I thought you'd be out later. Why'd you cut out early?"
Bailey smirked. "Because of you."
River looked amused. "I'm flattered. What did you need from me?"
"Nothing." River cocked her head and shoveled another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. Bailey hiked herself up onto the kitchen counter. "Everybody else had a reason to cut out early, didn't want to be the lame wolf with no plans."
"Such as?"
"Sex, mostly." Bailey popped a thick-cut slice of salami into her mouth, a smirk still present, as River choked on her next spoonful. The half-witch glared, but it fell short of any true menace.
"Don't worry, if anyone asks, I'll say we had a lovely heart-to-heart in the kitchen."
"Damn straight you will."
Bailey ate the rest of her food in haste, unable to help herself. Her body craved sustenance, and the protein would bolster her supernatural healing. As she licked the trace amounts of fat left on her fingers, she caught sight of the quizzical tilt of River's brow.
"Yes?" She prompted, hopping off the counter. When River didn't respond, she snagged herself a large glass of water, downing its contents in a few messy gulps.
"You never answered my question," River pointed out as Bailey wiped her face clear of water droplets and crumbs.
"Hmm? What question?"
Their gazes clashed. "The outfit change. The bruise on your face. Did something happen on your run? Is Aunt Irina okay?" Bailey shook her head before River finished.
"Everyone's fine. The run was great."
"So…?"
Bailey held out her hand for River's empty cereal bowl and spoon. She passed them along, her quizzical expression still firmly in place. "I ran into a few friends when I got back, and things got a little rowdy. It's no big deal." Bailey avoided River's eye as she washed the dirty dishes.
"You mean the Wildings?"
The she-wolf paused. Though River's delivery was the epitome of nonchalance, her emotions told a different story. Bailey erected her mental walls with exasperation. She didn't have the energy to fend off River's emotions after the night she endured.
"As a matter of fact, it was. Do you have a problem with that?"
"I don't think you should work for them," River said bluntly, crossing her arms over her chest. Her green eyes hardened. The force behind her emotional projection increased. Bailey ground her molars in annoyance. "They have a bad reputation, and Aunt Irina's always talking about how what we do reflects on their household. Working with the Wildings signals to the court that you’re trouble, and in turn, so are the Vranas. Perception is everything here."
"Oh, give me a break. Your aunt gave her approval weeks ago. Besides, you're one to talk about perception."
Bailey exited the kitchen with a huff, hoping the distance might dampen River's irritable projection. A warm hand gripped her wrist, bringing Bailey to an abrupt stop before the opening of the common room. She was instantly inundated with the emotions spiraling through River: frustration, anger, concern, disappointment. Bailey shook off her hold. She did not want to have this conversation.
"What's that supposed to mean?" River bit out.
"For the past four months, you've been hunting down a way to free your lycan side and become a hybrid." Bailey's voice rose as River looked ready to interject. "Everyone at court thinks you're some power-hungry witch! What kind of light does that paint the Vranas in, huh?"
She regretted the words the moment they came out of her mouth. River took a step into the common room.
"That's what the court thinks of me? I'm a power-hungry witch?" She erupted into callous laughter that prickled at Bailey's skin. "Wow."
A mixture of bitterness and outrage bombarded Bailey. Don't let it get to you. Don't let it get to you. Don't—
"You haven't been shy about throwing the Vrana name around to make demands and broker deals to access the magic or information you want, River." Damnit. Bailey sucked in a fortifying breath as she battled her emotions and River's. "Listen, I know how rough this journey has been for you. I want you to succeed, more than anything—" Bailey's voice gave a tremulous crack. She cleared her throat and forced herself to maintain eye contact with River. "But right now, you're setting yourself up for failure."
"Oh, yeah? How's that exactly?"
Bailey bristled at the arctic chill that frosted over River's hushed dissent. Raising her hand, she counted off the reasons on her fingers. "We decided at the start of this we would keep our search on the DL after what happened in New Orleans." A full moon gone wrong, and a small coven of witches slain trying to save River's life. "Yet, in a place filled to the brim with apex predators who are all either out to use or kill you, you've lost all manner of subtly putting not only yourself in danger but me and the Vranas."
Bailey ticked up a second finger. "You're not taking care of yourself. Oh, do not give me that look. You look like shit, River. You should be passed out after what you pulled tonight, not snacking." A third finger joined the others. "And you're taking on way too much by yourself. You promised Irina you wouldn't attempt anything without her knowledge or supervision."
"You and Irina talked about me?"
Bailey took a deep breath and dropped her hand back to her side. "Yes—"
"I'm not a child," River growled. "I've got things under control."
"Not if you're practically killing yourself running spells for three fucking hours without the proper prep or help nearby! Jesus, what were you thinking, River? You're smarter than that."
The lights above them flickered as magic tickled the underside of Bailey's nose. Bailey leveled River with an unimpressed glare.
"I don't need you to lecture me. You're not my mom."
"That wasn't a lecture; it was the truth. You're just too blinded by your desires to give a damn about the consequences of your actions."
With a pop and fizz, a light bulb went out.
"Why don't you try to worry about yourself for a change? I don't need a watchdog to hound my every move. Enjoy your time with the Wildings."
River sped past Bailey, but it wasn't until the slam of her bedroom door echoed from the second floor that Bailey felt as if she could breathe.
"Fuck."
It wasn't their first blowout, but this one left Bailey on edge. She wondered if River's aggression stemmed from tonight's failure, or if the full moon had claimed another victim. Either way, Bailey was hopelessly awake.
When a blast of music crashed through the suite a moment later, Bailey cringed and glared at the ceiling. Sleep would be impossible now.
Bailey contemplated whether to stick around. She wasn't interested in enduring River's temper tantrum, but where to go…
A thrill ran through Bailey. She knew exactly where to go, but first, she would need to clean up, or at least apply a layer of concealer to her face.
What better place to burn her energy and get paid while doing it than the Styx?
Whispers of the Styx's revelry carried all the way to the fourth subfloor. The sound of it made Bailey slow, remembering too little too late that crossing Astrid's path, and that of her lackeys, was more than probable. At least this time, she knew there would be plenty of Wildings to watch her back.
"Hey, Bailey! Wait up!"
Bailey turned and spied Emmanuel and Q wading through the latest influx of courtiers headed down to enjoy the Styx before the moonset. She stepped away from the crowd and waited for the men to reach her side.
"You coming to hang?" Emmanuel's eyes shined brightly. Bailey nodded.
"Franklin mentioned I might be able to pick up some work—"
"What? No!" Emmanuel crowed. "You can't work on a full moon. Take the night off—you've earned it."
Emmanuel's meaningful look was a little too meaningful and earned an elbow in the ribs from Q. The fox shifter laughed it off, though his hand continued to absently rub his side as they headed to the Styx.
"He's right," Q said gruffly, earning a surprised glance from Bailey. "You work too much."
"I like to keep busy." Anything to keep my mind off my troubles.
Q didn't seem convinced but didn't push the subject. As they approached the mid-landing for the sixth subfloor, they came to a halt.
"Holy shit," Bailey muttered.
"Is that Francesca?" A dark flush splashed onto Emmanuel's face as they stared at the scene below.
"Who's Francesca?" Bailey asked. Emmanuel whimpered quietly, as Q answered.
"Some junky thrall Emmanuel's been lusting after. Told you not to get your hopes up—chick was never gonna bang you. All she wants is the fang."
Emmanuel made another pained noise. His hands laced behind the back of his head as he stood witness to his crush getting fucked for all to see, affixed to a St. Andrews cross.
"Tough luck, kid." Bailey clapped him on the back, dragging her eyes off the young woman's naked body, littered with bite marks, and crying out her pleasure without shame. She trotted down the remainder of the stairs, not bothering to see if they followed.
The Styx had devolved into a riot of orgiastic proportions. Several courtiers were stripped down to their flesh, while others sported outfits that could rival the best of the royal household's expensive wardrobes.
"Not on the table, ye slags!"
Bailey stopped just in time before a couple was pushed roughly to the floor and away from the roulette table they'd been fucking against. The men yelped and groaned in pain. They crawled shamefully away as several feet struck out at them until they cleared the alley they inadvertently blocked.
"She's at the blackjack table near the back." Q's hand rose into her line of sight, pointing in the direction of the blackjack table, and presumably, Franklin.
Q cut ahead of her to lead.
Bailey glanced over her shoulder briefly, then frowned. "Where's Emmanuel?"
"Kids a masochist. He's watching that fang banger earn her keep." Q snorted so loud that those passing in the opposite direction spared the giant man a concerned glance. He tossed a smirk Bailey's way. "He'll learn soon enough. New ones always get caught up in the partying and put their dicks where they don't belong—pussies too, I don't discriminate."
Bailey threw up both of her hands. "I wouldn't dream of suggesting otherwise."
Q's smirk broadened as he kept his eyes on her while navigating the crowd. The courtiers parted for him, but from his size or status, Bailey wasn't sure. "You're okay."
"Thanks."
His gaze narrowed thoughtfully as a trace of something sinister shaded the contours of his face. “You got any ink?” She shook her head, trying not to flinch underneath his regard. Q’s smirk deepened, as if he knew the effect he had on her. Bailey’s wolf bristled in her mind, and Q chuckled. “I see you, wolf.”
