The Elfbitten Trilogy

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The Elfbitten Trilogy Page 3

by Leila Bryce Sin


  “Told you.” He winked at me before moving down to help another customer. I thought about turning to watch Roxy again, but something about the size of the shifter made it seem obscene. I was close enough to everyone that I could feel the magic and power they were raising. I couldn’t imagine there were enough people here to contain it all.

  I lifted my hand in front of my face and snapped my fingers, watching the spark flash between my fingers. I hadn’t been able to do even that much just this morning. Ever since Cillian and I had broken up – well, since he dumped me really – I had been on a total self-pity spiral. Roxy had come by every couple of days to make sure I was eating and showering, which of course I was. I was probably eating too much, but I hadn’t bothered to change into real clothes or leave my apartment. The plants around my place had started to die since I wasn’t tending them anymore and I couldn’t ask Roxy to waste perfectly good magic to bring them back to life for me.

  This morning, six weeks to the day after my break up, Roxy had lost all patience with me and my pity party. She’d nearly ripped the door off the hinges when I wouldn’t roll out of bed to answer her demanding knock, her power ripping through my apartment, effectively knocking me out of the bed. Her eyes shined with magic and anger when she stormed into the bedroom, her hair floating on the waves of power emanating from her core.

  “That is it, Taryn Malloy!” she yelled, stalking around the bed and grabbing me by the back of my nightshirt. “Cillian Moran is not worth this!” she dragged me across the floor until we reached the bathroom, I spun on my back when she let go so she could reach in and turn on the cold water tap of the shower. I tried to scramble to my feet, but because it had been so long since I had raised any power, she was faster and stronger than me by far and she simply grabbed my ankle and dragged me back. She picked me up around the waist and nearly tossed me into the shower, the icy water shocking me and stealing my breath in a gasp.

  Roxy slammed the glass doors shut and held them there until I got to my feet and banged against the panel demanding to be let out. She slid one side open just long enough to rip the soaking shirt off of my body and push me back in.

  “Wash!” she commanded, sliding the door shut in my face, cutting off my protests. Eventually I conceded and took the shower, if only to keep from freezing. When I got out, she gave me a towel and a robe and took to combing out the mess of tangles my hair had become.

  “We’re going out tonight,” she said, pulling the brush through my hair as I sat at my vanity, cupping a mug of coffee between my hands. “You should’ve been able to fight back, or at least resist me, and you were as weak as a human, Taryn.”

  “I know,” I muttered.

  “Do you think he’s sitting at home wallowing in pain that you’re gone?”

  “I wasn’t the one that left, Roxy.”

  “Exactly. You’re giving him too much.”

  “He doesn’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she argued, setting the brush down on the tabletop. “You’re still acting this way for him; he doesn’t deserve that. How long did he say he’d been seeing the fairy whore?”

  “Six months,” I whispered into my mug.

  “And you were together for three years.”

  “I know, Roxy!” I yelled, throwing my cup against the wall. It shattered into hundreds of ceramic pieces, the coffee splattering the wall, dripping to the floor. I had sprung to my feet without realizing it. My fists were balled so tightly my ragged nails were cutting into my palms. The scent of blood wafted up, making my mouth water. “You don’t think I know he’s been humiliating me for six fucking months? I know, Roxy!” I screamed. “He’s been fucking her all over town and everyone fucking knew but me! I’ve been here! In our home! Cooking for him, cleaning up for him, paying our bills, and he’s been out fucking her!” I was panting in my rage, my body was shaking with the effort to contain my pounding heart and Roxy stood there, calm and smiling.

  “Good. It’s about damn time you got angry.” She turned away from me and walked into my closet, disappearing from sight. I blinked, coming back to my senses, wondering what she was doing, so I followed her in. When I got there, I found her laughing.

  “What?”

  “Oh my gods, Tare, are these crotches from his pants?” she asked, holding up a handful of fabric.

  “Yes, they are,” I said simply. The night Cillian had told me about his affair, after I had thrown him physically from the apartment and locked the door in his face, I had gone on a rampage destroying anything of his I could find. I spent about an hour on the floor of our closet cutting out the crotches of all the pants he hadn’t packed, crying my eyes out like an idiot.

  “That’s brilliant,” Roxy said, dropping the sad scraps of fabric to the floor. She started rummaging through my closet until she came up with the outfit she wanted me to wear tonight, insisting that the best way to get over a man was to get under a new one.

  Roxy never had to worry about getting over or under or next to a guy, refusing to ever commit to a relationship. After seeing what Cillian had done to me, she insisted it was just another example of why her way of life was the best. Staring at those scraps of fabric, I couldn’t really argue with her. But I really thought Cillian and I had something; I really thought we were going to be married and live happily ever after. More embarrassing than that, I thought his strange behavior over the last few months was due to the fact he was finally going to propose. Even when he sat me down to talk that night, I thought that was the moment he was going to do it.

  I closed my eyes against the memory and shook my head to clear it. I refused to play that scene over again. Roxy was right; I needed to at least make an attempt at getting my life back together. I felt the skin at my shoulder pull when I shook my head and touched the sore spot where the Hunter had bitten me. It sent a zing of power through my body, making me clench my thighs. I had been without my magic for too long. Having some measure of it back made me look back at the last six weeks with disgust. Yes, Cillian had been my world for the last three years, but look how easily he had cast me aside! And I nearly killed myself mourning the loss of our relationship. As a Bright Elf, I lived off of the magic created by life giving acts, like love and lust. Going six weeks secluded and alone, sad and despondent, had drained any magic I had stored before that awful night. If Roxy hadn’t done what she did this morning, I might’ve only had a couple more days to live.

  I sat up straighter in my seat, squared my shoulders, and threw back the last swallow of my drink, the purple concoction stoking the fire in my belly and making my head swim briefly. I grabbed Roxy’s drink and slid off of the stool, landing light footed on the tile floor. I turned my head to look for Roxy, seeing her sitting in the shifter’s lap, the pixies crowded around them as she chatted happily, one arm draped around his shoulders. I was surprised to see her simply talking, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that didn’t last very long. I felt the tender skin on my shoulder pull again and realized I had no idea what the wound looked liked.

  I turned for the door and, before I could stop myself, I looked over to the dark corner I had spied the vampire sitting in. He was gone. I felt a confusing sense of disappointment when I realized he wasn’t there. More terrifying than that, I realized, when I caught his eye, I had hoped he would approach me. I touched the bite mark again, sending a pleasant shiver through my body. I was feeling reckless tonight. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and made my way back into the club, heading for the ladies room again so I could examine the bite mark.

  I set my glass down on the edge of the sink and brushed my hair to the side, leaning close to the mirror. There were two perfect half-moons punctured into my shoulder, just where the muscle curves into the neck. The skin around it was red and tender, but not swollen as I had thought. It didn’t really look that bad, but I had a smear of blood leading from it down to my cleavage where Roxy’s finger prints were still visible. I grabbed a paper towel and dampened it to clean my skin
. Once the blood was gone, it looked even better. I could tell the blood had clotted, but it wouldn’t take much to get it going again. And every time I touched the actual bite mark, tiny shocks shot through my body, making me shift my hips. Now I understood why there was so much talk about being with Hunters. This bite alone would keep me on edge all night.

  I stepped out of the restroom, leaving the empty glass behind. When I turned down the hallway, I saw a figure leaning against the wall, one booted foot against the wall, bending his right leg. He had his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his leather plants and his head bent forward as if he was studying the floor. From here I could smell the mix of leather, earth, and blood wafting off of him. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. I had to walk past the vampire to get back to the club. He wasn’t doing anything to threaten me, but there was something predatory about his very presence and I had a feeling he had been waiting for me. I thought about the way his nostrils had flared when he saw me staring at him. And just moments ago, I had been wishing for his attention. Something had come loose in my head. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and started forward, proud of how steady my footsteps were.

  “Taryn, was it?” he asked as I drew level with him. His voice was lightly accented, making the R in my name sound entirely different.

  “It is,” I answered, unsure I actually wanted to. He lifted his face and pursed his lips. His black curls swung back, showing his eyes were a pale blue like most vampires; years of avoiding the sun bleached the color from their eyes as much as their skin. His hair was thick, long, and curly, a deep black that shined blue when he moved his head.

  “Andre,” he said, holding out his hand for mine. I reached out and let him take my hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Andy,” I tried to be flippant, wanting to break this strange tension between us. He gripped my hand and pulled me into his body, raising my hand to his lips. He held my hand with both of his, turning it over to press a kiss to my palm. My stomach flipped as he held my gaze. He was much taller than me, making me press my chest into the V of his ribs. The thin t-shirt let me feel the play of muscles hidden underneath. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He dropped my hand and gripped my shoulders, bending forward until his face was almost pressed into the bend of my neck. He inhaled again. He wasn’t even touching the bite mark, but I felt the answering tingle shoot through my body, making me want to press harder against him, but my fear was stronger, making me hold still.

  I pulled free and stepped back, clutching my hand to my chest as if he had wounded me. I glared up at him, feeling my brows drawing together. It had been one thing if we’d been on the dance floor or if he’d bought me a drink at the bar, but to wait for me outside the restroom and be this forward was not my thing.

  “My apologies,” he stood up straight and inclined his head in a small bow. I kept my mouth shut. “Elven blood is just so,” he paused, inhaling deeply again, “intoxicating.” I quirked a brow at him, as if that was something I didn’t know. It was in our blood that our magic was strongest.

  “Well,” I nodded back at him and turned to go. I got about five feet before I glanced over my shoulder, but by then he was already gone. I shook my head and continued forward into the club, my knees just a little weak from that momentary encounter. I blew out a breath and shook myself, trying to shed the slightly creepy feeling the encounter had left behind.

  “Creeper,” I muttered to myself as I continued down the hall. As soon as I stepped back into the club proper, I wished I hadn’t. I felt my heart thud in my chest before it dropped to the bottom of my stomach. My knees threatened to go out from under me and the room swam in front of my eyes. Cillian and the fairy bitch were together in a booth on the far wall.

  “Taryn!” Roxy called as she bounced over to me. Her once tight cotton top was hanging in shreds, letting her breasts sway freely, and her pink nipples were peeking through the tears in her shirt. I blinked at her slowly, feeling the color draining from my face.

  “Tare?” Roxy bent closer to my face, hers lined with worry now. “Babe, what is it? Did something happen?” She gripped my shoulders to turn me to face her. When I didn’t answer, she gave me a gentle shake. I had to swallow twice before I could get my mouth to work properly.

  “Cillian,” I whispered, finally focusing on her face.

  “What about him?”

  “Fairy bitch.”

  “What about them, Taryn?” Her voice rose, hinting at her fear of what had me so gob smacked.

  “Here,” I croaked.

  “Where?” She spun around, searching the crowd frantically. I felt her magic spike in anger, lashing out from her core. “I’ll tear him apart! Where’s the son of a goblin?”

  “There.” My voice was a little stronger now and I nodded in their direction. I had no idea how long they had been here, but it was long enough that the fairy bitch had already ditched her clothes, her dress draped over the small table. She was wearing candy apple red stiletto heels that were so shiny that what little light was in the club glinted off of them. She was standing in front of the table now, dancing for Cillian who was lounging in the booth, still fully dressed. He was holding a drink in one hand, a slow stupid smile spreading over his face as he enjoyed the show.

  “Gross,” Roxy observed. But really, there was nothing gross about her. She was over six feet tall and all voluptuous curves. Her skin was flawless and shimmered with fairy magic. Her hair was silver floss that spilled down her narrow back. When she spun around, bending forward in front of Cillian, I could see her face, all smooth lines and the very definition of femininity. Her mouth was full and welcoming, her eyes half closed in a come-hither look I could never master. Even her ears were a softer point than my own.

  She whipped her head back, throwing her hair over her shoulders in a silver wave as she undulated, standing back up. She ran her hands through her hair, arching her back, showing everyone in the club what they were missing. When she opened her eyes, she saw me. I know she did. Her eyes widened momentarily and her lips pursed in a sly smile. She sashayed her hips as she took a step backwards and, without looking, she lowered herself down into Cillian’s lap, grinding her ass into him as she gripped his knees for balance. Leaning her shoulders back, she rested her head on his shoulder and kept gyrating against him. I saw Cillian close his eyes and tilt his head back.

  “That filthy bitch,” Roxy hissed. Her anger was growing, washing over my body, calling to the feral magic pooled inside of me. I felt the answering heat course through my body, my power lashing out of me, making my hair dance on the invisible wind around me. Tiny electric sparks snapped at the tips of my fingers. I could hear myself screaming at Roxy earlier that morning, giving voice to all the rage I had locked up and tried to hide. I imagined walking over there, grabbing the fairy bitch by her hair, and yanking her off of Cillian and throwing her across the room, smiling at the thought of her bones snapping on impact. I thought about tearing at the skin on Cillian’s face until he was left an unrecognizable mess of blood and ruin.

  “Come on,” I said to Roxy and started forward. We stalked across the room until I was standing in front of their ridiculous display. I waited, hands on my hips, most of my weight on one foot so my body shifted to the right. Roxy was an angry swarm of bees at my back.

  “Oh, hello,” the fairy bitch said in fake surprise when she finally opened her eyes to acknowledge me. Her voice was an annoying tinkling of chimes, making her sound like a child, which just made her display seem slimy.

  “Tare!” Cillian yelped when his attention focused on me. He actually jumped in his seat, trying to scramble backwards, away from his date.

  “Taryn,” I corrected, proud of how steely my voice sounded.

  “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing coming here, Cillian?” Roxy demanded, pressing forward. Her anger snapped at my skin and I saw the fairy bitch recoil just an inch, letting me know she felt it too.

  “It’s a public club,” Cillian stammered, clearly conf
used by the question.

  “You’re not welcome here, you kinbetrayer!” Roxy screamed, bending forward to invade their space as she threw the insult in his face. The patrons around us started to quiet their conversations and turn their attention to us.

  “How dare you,” the fairy bitch started, but Roxy’s hand shot out and slapped her across the face hard enough to be heard over the thundering music.

  “You don’t speak,” I said coolly. She pushed away from Cillian to tower over us. Her eyes flashed to black and her lips pulled back into a snarl. “If you put a hand on us, I’ll end you.” She looked at me, considering my words, but she didn’t back down, her hands even crooked into claws. Roxy reached forward and shoved her into the table, but she was so tall it merely caused her to sit on it.

  “Stay put and keep your dirty whore mouth shut,” she ordered.

  “Cillian,” I pulled my attention away from the murderous fairy and looked at him. His face was pale with fear and anger, making his grey eyes look murky. Even his usually perfect, soft blond curls were lank and looked a little greasy.

  “What?” he demanded when I didn’t continue.

  “You need to leave.”

  “You can’t tell me to leave,” he blinked at me, his indignation making his color rise.

  “Yes, I can. You’re a kinbetrayer. I don’t think anyone here would argue with me about throwing you out,” I said, feeling the attention of the crowd we had gathered. Even some couples on the fringes of the dance floor had forgotten what they were doing and were watching our show.

  “What are you going to do if I refuse?” he lifted his chin, his thin lips pursing. Suddenly I saw him for what he really was – a spoiled brat man-child. I blinked, feeling my anger receding inside of me, the wind around me died as I tilted my head to the side.

 

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