Downs, Jana - Ravyn's Destiny [Ravyn Warriors 3] (Siren Publishing Allure ManLove) (13 page)

“Sure.”

* * * *

“I have claimed your castle, sir. That will cost you two articles of clothing,” Salvatore stated triumphantly in his chair across from Destin. Destin grumbled but handed over his arm cuffs and shirt. It hadn’t been long in their game play that they’d decided that both of them were too good to play against one another in the normal way. Salvatore’s solution had been three chess matches on three different boards, the best two out of three wins, and on top of that an extra inducement to play their best, strip chess. Whenever he took an opponent’s higher pieces, the queen, the rooks, the castles, and the knights, Salvatore had to surrender an article of clothing to him. It had definitely been the proper inducement to up both their games. Not only did it distract his opponent, it was damn odd to play chess naked. They’d already stopped twice for “intimate conversations with the enemy” which usually resulted in them getting offtrack for a good thirty minutes before they had to re-dress and begin game play again.

“Castles are only one article,” Destin protested as he crossed his arms across his naked chest.

“But my knight claiming your castle puts you in check, which is an additional article of clothing. So there.” Salvatore’s eyes were sparkling with mirth as Destin grumbled his acquiescence.

They were down to the last chess board now, and the stakes were high. Destin played with his lip ring as he was wont to do when he was concentrating on something. He sensed a trap but couldn’t find where Salvatore put it…There, he thought triumphantly. He moved his bishop.

“Check. I want the pants,” Destin demanded. Salvatore stripped and handed them across the table so the King could deposit them in the small pile he’d already made. Destin nearly swallowed his tongue at the sight of a mostly naked Salvatore sitting across from him. Maybe making him drop down to his skivvies wasn’t such a good idea. It was very distracting.

“So why do you work at Daylight?” Salvatore asked, snapping him back to the conversation. “I mean, you’re a King. Why do you work as a bartender?”

Destin shrugged and sat back in his chair as Salvatore studied the board. “I love my people, but it’s no fun being King all the time. It gets lonely being surrounded by people who consider you better than them because of some accident of birth. Sometimes I feel a little smothered. I go over there, and no one knows what I am or who I am. I can mingle as I see fit, and I can feed on Earth without having to ask or explain.”

“Still doesn’t explain you bartending. I mean, you could barhop and do that.” Salvatore considered a pawn before discarding it. Damn, he had sidestepped Destin’s trap. “But then I wouldn’t have my independence. Switching currencies are a bitch to begin with, and I like making my own money. Plus, I love the people. I meet so many interesting ones. You, for example,” he teased with a wink. “You’d be surprised at the high levels of emotions at the bar. You were lonely when you first came in despite being surrounded by your four companions. That’s what clued me in that they were your bodyguards. You tasted like summer rain.”

“So you were checking me out,” Salvatore teased back. “Did you really live in Georgia?”

Destiny nodded. “I really did. The accent is authentic.” He laughed. “I could get used to our conversations, darlin’.”

Salvatore smiled warmly. “Me, too.” He sat back in his chair in a mirror image of Destin. “I concede a draw. We’re just chasing each other around the board at this point.”

Destin nodded after examining the board. “Agreed.” He yawned. “You ready for one more ride before bed?” He loved being a Summer Fae. His sex drive could keep up with anyone.

Salvatore nodded, his face mostly a grin. “Hell yes.” He stood and all but dragged Destiny toward the bed. The Fae King laughed at his enthusiasm and went in through the chains. He couldn’t remember the last time a lover had so captivated him. Not even Terren had Salvatore’s power. They could be intense and passionate one minute, tender and loving another, and playful and goofy the next. It was great.

“Let me ride you this time, dragon boy,” Destin purred, straddling Salvatore’s hips and sinking onto the prominent erection he found there.

“Your wish, my command. Oh, gods, Destin!” Salvatore started his weird purring noises in the back of his throat. Destin shuddered and began moving his hips in a way sure to bring them both to their knees. He never wanted this night to end.

* * * *

Salvatore woke alone. The bed beside him was cool, and the room absolutely silent. Sunlight streamed through the windows, reflecting off of the metallic chains to create a wall of shimmering links. He sat up, pushing the covers off his chest so that it pooled at his waist.

“Destin?” he called. No answer. He sighed. He knew he was alone, but he’d hoped…He reached out and ran his hands back and forth across the chain canopy and watched them sway and slink together. Last night had been amazing, and he’d thought that he’d done a good job at wearing his lover out, but apparently not good enough.

They’d made love off and on all through the night, talking in the stretches in between. It had been just as magical as he had imagined it would be. He put one arm across his eyes to block out the light and let his memories from the previous night replay in pleasant succession. They’d laughed a lot. Talked a lot. Loved a lot. A few more nights like that and Destin would be begging him to be his Consort.

He stretched luxuriously. His muscles were sore from overuse. It was great. He wondered where Destiny had run off to.

“Good morning, my lord.” Mar appeared out of nowhere just outside the curtains carrying a tray laden with food. Salvatore parted the curtain closest to the fae advisor.

“Morning, Mar,” he said cheerfully. “Where did your lovely King run off to? I’m starting to feel like Prince Charming when Cinderella left the ball.” Mar shifted uncomfortably, and Salvatore’s stomach sank.

“He’s gone back to Earth for work. He said he’d be gone for a while. He’s probably going to stay a few days.” Mar sounded apologetic.

Salvatore pursed his lips. “He’s avoiding me, isn’t he?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Salvatore cursed softly. “Why? We had a really great night.” He protested the situation, but deep down he knew.

“He’s running away
because
it was so good.” Mar set the tray of food on the bed beside Salvatore. “He’s trying to avoid you in an effort to get a handle on his own emotions. Give him a few days.”

“I won’t take anyone else into my bed,” Salvatore vowed. “Spread the word to the rest of Court. I don’t care how hungry I get. I won’t consume anyone else’s emotions but Destiny’s.”

“You can’t do that, Salvatore. You’re newly transitioned. You have to feed daily. It’s just like eating food. You can’t starve yourself for days on end.”

Salvatore felt familiar determination swell up inside him. It was the same type of determination that made Tony groan in frustration usually. “Mar, you underestimate my resolve. Spread the word.”

Chapter Eleven

All the Ravyns were lined up at the bar when Destiny started his shift. Salvatore’s bodyguards looked downright miserable. It was a slow Tuesday night as he walked behind the bar. Only a couple dozen people occupied the whole club.

“Slow night,” Tara, the midshift bartender, greeted. She was closing out the register for his use and transferring over the bar tabs onto his personal account. She motioned to the space Salvatore’s bodyguards sat. “I just cleared away their glasses. They’ve been here since we opened, so watch out for them getting too shitfaced. Looks like they’ve just come from a funeral.”

Destin nodded. “Sure thing. You tried chatting them up to see what’s wrong?” As if he didn’t already know.

She shook her head. “I tried. They all glared at me and asked for refills.” She took out the other drawer from underneath the register and locked hers inside. She deposited Destin’s drawer in the catch and closed it up before handing him the bar keys. “All yours. Good luck.” Destin nodded and watched her gather her purse and jacket before going to tend the customers. He probably should’ve brought a jacket of his own. They’d had quite a chilly October this year. It would look odd if he didn’t have one with him.

After he made his rounds, he reluctantly walked over to the group of miserable-looking bodyguards.

“Hey, fellas. What are you drinkin’?” Destin asked, leaning over to gather the tip they’d left and depositing it in the tip jar. He’d have to remember to give Tara her share when she came in tomorrow. Four pairs of identical golden eyes lit on him. The one nearest him with the auburn hair opened his mouth to order but then stopped. He sniffed the air like a hound scenting quarry. What the hell? Destin thought.

He was completely unprepared when the man launched himself over the bar and tackled him hard to the floor. The other three immediately followed.

“Dammit, Dageus! What is your problem?” one shouted.

“What the hell are you doing?” asked another.

“What is going on, Dageus?” They then broke down into another language the Destin had never heard before. It was a quick, lyrical language that sounded almost like his ancient language with slight variations in tone.

Destin shoved at the man on top of him. His back hurt, and his head was now spinning from its impact on the floor.
Ow
. The other man wasn’t hurting him per se, just making it very difficult for him to move comfortably.

“Get off me!” he shouted, hoping the security would be arriving at any moment.

“Where is our Prince?” The other man growled in his face.

“Huh? Prince? I don’t know any princes. Get the fuck off me, man!”

“Where the fuck is Salvatore, you little prick?” Dageus demanded, shaking Destin like a rag doll.

“Dageus! This guy is just a bartender.” Tony tried to drag Dageus off the other man.

“The fuck he is! Smell!” The Ravyns paused and took deep whiffs of Destin, and the Fae King scowled. The other men turned as one to glare at him.

“See?” Dageus rumbled.

“It’s faint because he’s showered. He smells like Salvatore and sex.” Tony blinked. “You’ve been fucking our Prince?”

“Prince?” Destin returned the question with another question. He felt the blood leech out of his skin. That explained it. It explained the bodyguards, the vampires, the extra power.
Shit
. Salvatore was a royal like him. “Prince of what?”

Tony and Dageus hefted him up like he was nothing and threw him into the back bar, making the glasses rattle. “Prince Salvatore is the High Prince of Demontia, heir to the Dragon Throne. Now where is he, asshole?”

His lover was a Demon Prince. Lord and Lady, no wonder he’d been so strong. Demons and Fae were not that far apart biologically. Demontia was a hell of a place to rule because Demons were the more aggressive cousins to Summer Fae. No wonder Salvatore had admired his kingdom and its relative peace.

“Does that mean you’re the Ravyns? The Guardians of the Dragon Throne?” Destin asked as the one called Dageus started shaking him again.

“What’s the problem, boys?” The voice of the head bouncer, Nick, was a welcome interruption.

“Thank god! Nick, get these guys off of me,” Destin called from behind the mountain of men. He really, really, really didn’t want to use his powers here. He glanced at the shadows that were creeping up behind the Ravyns. “No!” he shouted at them. The last thing he needed was to injure or kill one of the Demon Prince’s—Lord and Lady, Salvatore was a Demon Prince—sacred bodyguards.

“Guys, give Sam a break, will you? I know you all are grieving, but it’s not his fault,” the vampire bouncer said reasonably. Destin almost didn’t recognize the name he used at the bar. He’d been thinking of himself as Salvatore’s “Destiny” for weeks now.

“He knows something about it, Nick,” the leader of the Ravyns addressed his would-be savior. “He smells like our Prince, and it’s recent.” The bouncer’s eyes widened comically, and he gestured toward the alley where the employees took their break.